Wild Girl (Wild Men Texas #3) - Melissa Belle Page 0,45

five o’clock at The Cowherd, and I have to talk to him before that.

I bang for over two minutes on his door, but he’s not home. I walk over to his parents’ house. He’s not there, either; in fact, nobody is.

As I’m leaving the ranch, I run into Reid. When I ask him where Logan is, he looks at me in surprise.

“He’s on his way to the airport,” he says. “For his wedding in Florida. I’m taking a later flight. Aren’t you coming?”

I stare at him. “His wedding is here in Darcy. Tonight.”

“Not anymore,” he says to me. “Logan changed his mind last night. Today’s wedding is canceled because he decided to just have one wedding in Florida.”

“But the legend…” I begin wildly. “Jane Austen’s ghost…”

Reid shakes his head. “I don’t get why he’s copping out of town at the last minute.” He gives me a second look. “Although I think I may have a clue.”

Right. He’s avoiding seeing me.

“He and Gigi are now having a private wedding ceremony on July fourth in Florida,” Reid explains. “And the public reception is still on the seventh. Logan tried to move the date up even more, but he couldn’t.”

I look at Reid, feeling so sad all of a sudden. “July fourth? But that’s the day we fly out, so by the time everyone gets there…” Logan will be married.

“All the reporters are gonna stay stationed at The Cowherd on July fourth to see if the cell door opens or not,” Reid says.

I bite my lip so hard it bleeds, and a tear slips out of one eye.

“Hey, maybe you can still catch him.” Reid tries to cheer me up. “His flight hasn’t left yet.”

But when I get to the airport, they won’t let me past security.

“I have an emergency message for one of your passengers,” I say.

“Only if you buy a ticket. I’m sorry.”

I go to the counter and inquire about changing the departure date on my ticket.

“Sure!” The bright-eyed woman behind the counter looks up my information. “Let’s see now…oh, dear. Everything is booked solid, unfortunately.”

“Every single flight?”

“You could come back tomorrow morning and try to go stand-by,” she suggests. “But it’s July fourth week.”

“Thanks.” I turn away and make my way back through the airport.

I walk to my SUV, get in, and drive home defeated.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When I walk through my front door, I can’t relax. I’m so agitated I feel desperate.

Just desperate enough to finally do it.

I reach into my purse and pull out my diary.

I’m almost finished with it, almost done reading the last set of stories where Logan Wild is a single and available man, a man who’s marked so much of my childhood and ascension into adulthood. I feel sad for a second, like I didn’t actually learn the lessons I was supposed to, and maybe it’s too late to get it right.

I sit down at my kitchen table and open to my final entry before I ran out of space.

Our wedding night in Las Vegas.

Seems like such a long time ago now. I didn’t know how much I took for granted on that trip, like my naïve belief that Logan would always be available to me whenever I needed him and that we could just keep having sex without thinking about commitment.

I remember the day before we left when I went over to his cottage.

“Logan, will you drive to Vegas with us?”

He’d just gotten out of the shower, and all he was wearing was a towel around his waist. I tried to keep my eyes trained on his face, but I couldn’t help peeking at his bare chest and his white towel and how it didn’t leave a lot to the imagination.

Logan gave me an amused smile and made no effort to put on a t-shirt or turn away.

“What will we do in Vegas?” He reached out and touched his hand to my neck until I shivered.

“You and I will support our two friends as they walk through the gates of permanent coupledom.”

“Permanent coupledom. You say it like they’re two swear words. Like you’re spitting them out of your mouth to make sure none of the stain stays with you.”

“Logan, shut up and come with me. Please?”

He pulled me inside his cottage and disappeared inside his bedroom. When he reappeared, he was dressed in a t-shirt and my favorite pair of his jeans. And he had a suitcase.

“All right. Let’s go.”

I return my focus to my tiny kitchen, which feels even smaller now, and lay my