The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2) - Jamie Beck Page 0,91
them. Thanks.”
“No thanks required.” Logan tugged Claire to his side and wound his arm snugly around her waist. “I’m the lucky one.”
“As usual.” Ben glanced at Claire and back to Logan. “Things always come pretty easily to you. I hope you appreciate it this time.”
Claire tapped Rosie before either of the two cavemen threw more shade. She turned to Logan. “Would you mind getting me a drink?”
“Of course. I’ll be right back.” He looked at the others. “Anyone else?”
Peyton grabbed for his arm like it was an escape ladder thrown into a deep well. “I’ll come with you.”
As soon as they left, Claire whirled around on Ben. “I don’t need a watchdog. Please cut the stink-eye.”
“Sorry.” He crossed his arms. “I didn’t want Logan using his charm to coax you into dealing with Peyton before you’re ready.”
Shame shot heat through her. “Because there isn’t another reason he’d like to spend time with me?”
“That’s not what I’m saying—” He looked at Steffi and Ryan for help, but they wisely stayed mum.
“It kind of is what you’re saying by jumping to that conclusion, Ben. Thanks for your concern, but don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I have no more false illusions about Logan than Melanie does about you.”
Ben winced at the mention of his regular booty call. “Sorry. Big-brother mode is hard to turn off.”
“Forgiven.” She smiled and turned to Steffi. “We should use tonight to drum up business. Everyone who’s anyone is here.”
“On it.” Steffi saluted her with a smile.
Logan and Peyton returned, and he handed her a glass of white wine. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” She threw back a full gulp. She’d need several more to help her converse with Peyton for the next three hours. “Let’s check out the auction items before the bidding heats up.”
“Good idea.” He turned to the gang before leading her to the long tables flanking the main room. “We’ll see you later.”
“Thank you for rescuing me from Ben. I think he wanted to bite my head off,” Logan whispered in Claire’s ear, glad to be putting some distance between himself and Ben Lockwood. “Tell the truth, did you two ever have a thing?”
“No.” She batted at him. “I told you, we’re like siblings. We stuck together after you all took off.”
Logan cast a glance over his shoulder. Ben was no longer glaring at him. “Well, I’m glad to have you to myself for a few minutes. In fact, can I persuade you to duck into an alcove with me?” He nipped at her shoulder.
She smiled, narrowing her eyes, and squeezed his arm. “I always knew you’d make a perfect rogue earl.”
“Is that a yes?” He tugged at her hand.
“Be serious. We’re here to raise money, so let’s check out the items.”
Logan rarely bid on anything because of his family’s affiliation with the event and donors. That, plus the fact that his deep pockets would unfairly tip the scales against those with modest bank accounts. He walked beside Claire, occasionally nodding hello to neighbors and acquaintances while she scrutinized each bid sheet.
She paused by the pair of tickets to the final women’s round of the US Open. Logan noted the longing in her eyes.
“Do you go often?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I never go.”
“Why not?”
She placed her hands on her hips and tipped her head, her expression reading “Duh” loud and clear. “Until last month, I avoided the city.”
“Well, now that you’ve broken that rule, would you like these tickets, or is it too painful to watch what might have been?”
She tipped her head side to side and shrugged. “Ten years ago, when some of the women I’d played with started popping up, it hurt to think, ‘That could’ve been me.’ But it wasn’t meant to be. Now I watch tennis on TV all the time without getting jealous.” She sighed. “The last serious live competition I went to was my own. Anyway, look at the retail value on those tickets. Fifteen hundred dollars is a bit rich for my blood. I need rent money for retail space.”
She moved to the next article on the table, inspecting the items in the gift basket.
But Logan remained in front of the tickets. “If you had the money, would you go? Or would you find another excuse to avoid the crowds?”
She paused, glancing over her shoulder at him. “I’d like to think I’d go, but honestly, I don’t know. Last time I ventured out on my own was a near disaster—literally and figuratively.”