The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,66
remembered the Lilac Lane League scrapbook, which was in her old bedroom at her parents’ house. It’d been filled with all kinds of hopeful wishes, and look where those got her.
She felt herself tightening into a ball on the kitchen stool. Logan must’ve noticed, too.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ruin the morning with a lecture. I’m not used to frank conversations with women, so please be patient while I learn the boundaries.” He rubbed her back. “Let’s change the subject. What’s on your agenda today?”
While trying to tamp down her embarrassment at what he’d discovered, she sipped her coffee. “Reality and work.”
“It’s Sunday, and reality is overrated.”
That remark earned him one of her side-eye glances. What must life look like from inside his head? “I got nothing accomplished yesterday.”
“Not true.” He nipped at her shoulder. “We got a lot accomplished yesterday. Let’s not backtrack now.”
In the dark, she’d been bold, but sunlight spilled through the window now, and like a hermit crab on the shore, she needed to duck for cover.
“I have to finish a plan for your home. And I need to talk to Mrs. Brewster.”
“That can wait until tomorrow.”
“I thought you were eager for me to show you sketches?” She pushed the omelet around the plate.
“There are more urgent things I want to see at the moment.” His foot hooked on to her stool, and he tugged it closer. He toyed with the robe’s lapel and caught his lower lip in his teeth. “Are you wearing anything under that robe?”
Instinctively, she batted his hand away. “Logan, be serious.”
“I am. You look enticing in the light coming through the window. How can you expect me to keep my hands to myself?” He ran his hands along her thighs, which sent a shock of heat to her core.
“Please, stop.” It killed her, but she pushed them away. Better a little pain today than a mountain of it later.
He raised his brows. “Really?”
“Yes. I painted outside the lines last night, and I don’t regret that at all, Logan. But I know me. If this were to go on, those lines will blur and I’ll end up hurt. I’m not a fluid kind of girl, and as an only child, I never learned how to share all that well.”
He frowned. “I wouldn’t see other women while we’re together.”
She almost laughed. Didn’t he hear himself? Maybe that sacrifice meant something to him, but it was a far cry from what she’d need to hear to move forward. While the odds of any relationship going the distance were slim for everyone, most people didn’t start out rejecting the idea like he did. And honestly, how could she carry on with him when she hadn’t resolved her feelings about Peyton—a point she’d conveniently ignored last night?
Fortunately, a knock at the door saved her from that conversation. “Can you run upstairs and get dressed while I answer that? It could be my mom, and she’s as fluid as this granite countertop.”
He sighed. “Fine.”
After stashing her binder back on the shelf, they scurried to the front of the house.
The doorbell rang next, but Claire waited until Logan hit the top of the stairs before opening the door. When she did, she wished she’d been better prepared. “Steffi? What are you doing here so early?”
Claire noticed Logan’s shoes by the coatrack too late. Hopefully, Steffi wouldn’t see them.
“It’s not that early, and I wanted to catch you before you went to church.” Steffi strode into the living room like she still lived there, then spun around and extended her left hand to reveal a diamond ring.
“Oh my God!” Claire screeched, grabbing her hand for a closer inspection. The princess-cut stone sparkled almost as much as Steffi’s eyes. “When did this happen?”
“Last night. Apparently, Ryan had been planning this with Lucia’s staff for a while. Of course, I had no idea when I invited you to join us. Our table had beautiful white lilies, and he did the whole traditional bended-knee thing. People clapped. It was completely corny and wonderful.”
Claire hugged Steffi as joyful tears stung her eyes. “I’m so happy for you.”
“Thank you.” Steffi eased away to stare at her ring again. “These past few months have been a dream. I’m honestly a little nervous that it’s all going to disappear.”
“It won’t. You deserve to be happy.” Claire smiled even though she was saddened that she and Steffi both lived in fear that happiness would be stolen from them. Paranoia was one of many invisible scars of