Logan - Lane Hart Page 0,9

it.”

Brayden’s fists clutch the front of my shirt as if she thinks I’m actually gonna leave her to go kick some ass. While I would like to, not only do I know I would just end up being thrown in a cell, but also, I’d much rather be here comforting her than punishing those motherfuckers.

I need to do more than hold her, so I finally force myself to ease away.

“Is it okay if I go grab you some clothes from my bag? I left it right on the bed,” I explain.

“Yeah,” Brayden answers with a sniffle before she looks away and grabs some tissue from the box on the counter. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Even though I don’t buy that for a second, I won’t be gone long, so I get to my feet and hurry into the bedroom, grabbing one of my undershirts and the first pair of boxer briefs I find to return to her. It’s not a great outfit, but it’s clean and the best I can do.

Back in the bathroom, I lay the clothes down on the counter and try to dry Brayden off a little more, starting with another towel in her hair.

“Thanks, Logan,” she tells me. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess.”

“Stop apologizing,” I tell her. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back to check on you sooner. You should’ve yelled for me.”

“This isn’t exactly how I wanted the first time you see me naked to go,” she says, making me pause in my attempt to dry her off. Confused by her words, I pull the towel away from her hair to see her face.

“We’ve met before,” Brayden tells me. “Clearly, I was memorable,” she adds with a roll of her eyes to downplay the fact that I think she’s a little hurt that I don’t remember her. Why don’t I remember her?

“Where?” I ask after I comb through every encounter I can think of in my mind, and none of them hold even a hint of her beautiful sea-green eyes.

“My parents have a New Year’s party every year at our house for the law firm,” she answers. “You were there this year.”

“Oh, right,” I agree. “I had just interviewed at the firm and was too busy kissing ass to enjoy myself or talk to anyone other than the partners,” I explain, because there’s no way I would’ve forgotten Brayden if we had met. She’s gorgeous, even with her wet hair plastered to her face, so I’m sure she would’ve been a knockout all dolled up in a cocktail dress.

“And your sister Page is married to my friend Sadie’s boyfriend’s brother,” she adds.

“Small world,” I reply before I straighten and take a step back, surprised that we hadn’t come face to face before tonight. “So, I guess I’ll leave you to get dressed, if that’s okay? The t-shirt and boxers are all I have unless you want a dress shirt or slacks…”

Oh fuck.

Why did I mention the dress shirt? That’s like the sexiest fucking thing a woman could wear – my dress shirt and nothing on underneath with her hair all tousled after we fuck. It’s so much hotter than any lingerie out there, and now I’m a gigantic pervert for even thinking of Brayden in nothing but one of my button downs for just a half a second after all the shit she’s been through this week. What the hell is wrong with me?

“These are great, thanks,” Brayden says, snapping me out of my self-loathing. “Will you leave the door open?”

I’m being tortured. I don’t know exactly what I did to deserve to be punished in such a way, but having an incredibly beautiful, naked woman in front of me who is absolutely untouchable is just wrong. So is the fact that, for good and obvious reasons, she’s incapable of putting at least one wooden door between me and her incredible naked body. I’m such a pervy bastard for remembering every one of her curves in great detail just from the quick glimpse I got when I lifted her out of the tub.

“Yeah, sure,” I tell her, having to clear the gravel from my throat when I force myself to turn around. “Please yell for me,” I say and then cringe at my phrasing. “I mean, yell if you need me or anything...”

Dammit. Even that usually innocuous statement sounds like an innuendo at the moment.

I need to get my head out of the gutter and back to business before I make a fool of myself. All