Neat (Becker Brothers, #2)(81)
He looked at me like I was a priceless, one-of-a-kind, first edition of his favorite novel.
“I thought you were gone,” he croaked, voice low. “I came by earlier this morning, and the shop was so empty, and you didn’t answer… I’ve been looking all over town for you.”
“You have?”
He nodded, that favorite wrinkle of mine making its appearance between his eyebrows. “Mac came to my office first thing this morning and told me he talked to your dad, that he convinced him they made a mistake by giving you the management position. He said it was mine, and that you had quit, that you were selling the studio and leaving town and…” He swallowed, shaking his head. “I just knew something was wrong, something was off. I had to find you.”
I laughed, wiping my nose with the back of my wrist with a shrug. “Welp. Here I am.”
A hint of a smile touched his lips, but it disappeared quickly, his eyes searching mine. “What happened?”
“I don’t even know where to start,” I said, blowing out a breath. My hands gathered at the center of his chest, and I looked at them instead of at his golden eyes. “I was sick all that night, after what happened. I wanted to run to you, to beg for you to believe me when I said I had nothing to do with what happened. But after our fight…” I shrugged. “You were right. I may not have played an active role in it, but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew what my father was capable of. I knew making any kind of deal with him was dangerous.”
“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you.”
“You shouldn’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “I deserved it. And that next day, after wallowing in self-pity, of course, I came down here and I drew a sketch of you in my bed. And I looked at that picture of you on my wall. And I felt you in every inch of this room, of the room upstairs, of my life,” I confessed. “And I knew I had to make it right somehow.”
Another tear slipped down my cheek, but it didn’t make it far before Logan was thumbing it away, and somehow, that made my chest squeeze even tighter.
“I told my dad he needed to make it right, that he knew as well as this entire town did that that position was yours — not mine. I told him if he didn’t make it right, I would go to the Gazette with what happened that night when I was fourteen.”
Logan inhaled. “Mallory…”
“I know,” I said, glancing at him before my eyes fell to my hands on his chest again. “I know. Trust me, I didn’t want to. I don’t want to ever talk about that night with anyone ever again. But, I was willing to do it, if I had to. And I knew my father well enough that it wouldn’t come to that. He doesn’t want another mark on our name — not now, especially after everything that happened with Mayor Barnett this summer.” I sniffed. “Anyway, the next day, he told me I had two weeks to get out of my apartment, that he was sending movers to take all the furniture and art supplies to auction, and that I was never to talk to anyone in my family ever again.”
Logan shook his head, framing my face with his hands and forcing me to look at him. “Why would you do that?” he asked urgently, searching my gaze. “It’s just a job, Mallory. I could have done something else. I could have—”
“It’s not just a job, and you know it,” I argued. “It’s your family’s legacy. It’s the position you’ve worked your entire adult life for — and the one you damn well deserve, too.”
“But, your family,” he whispered, then he looked around. “Your dream.”
“My family was never family to begin with. Family sticks together, no matter what. They love each other and understand each other and they would never, ever, do what my father did to me — not when I was fourteen, not now.” I shivered. “And my dream is to bring art to kids. But, I don’t need my father to make that happen. Maybe I’ll go into education, or maybe I’ll open up a shop of my own. Whatever I decide to do, I know one thing for sure — I don’t need my father to do it. I don’t want any part of his legacy, not with the way he’s living it. I’m ashamed I even came back and agreed to that deal with the devil in the first place.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Logan assured me.
“No, I did. I did. And that’s okay, I admit it, and I did what I had to do to make it right. When I came back, I was lost. I was fresh out of college and jobless with no money or career possibilities ahead of me. I fell right back into the trap I fought my whole life to escape. It was a moment of weakness, a moment of being on my knees. But, I’m standing again now.”
The left side of Logan’s mouth quirked up, and he nodded. “You are.”
“On top of all that,” I continued. “I realized something very important that day after I watched you walk away from me.”
“What’s that?”
“That if it means I can’t have you, if it means hurting you, then it’s not right. I don’t care what it is.” My hands began to tremble as I slid them up the rough fabric of his jacket, my eyes flicking to his mouth and back to those honey eyes. The blanket I’d been tucked under fell to the floor at our feet. “And I’m going to say something so crazy, you’re going to want to commit me. Because I know it’s too soon. I know that to most people, it would seem impossible. But…” I swallowed, shaking so bad I had to fist my hands in his jacket to keep from tumbling over. “I think I love you, Logan Becker. You poor sonofabitch.”