Stranded with a Billionaire (Billionaire Boys Club #1)(70)

“And do you want kids someday?”

It was a tough question, but she’d been expecting it. Bront? chewed, thinking for a long minute. Then she dabbed her mouth with a napkin and gave him the only answer she could. “Someday, with the right person.”

He nodded.

“You?”

Logan’s eyes were on her again. “Someday. I’ve already found the right person. I’m just waiting for her to be ready.”

Bront?’s nervous giggle surprised neither of them.

***

The only movie that they could get tickets to was an action movie, but sitting in the dark with Logan was pleasant no matter what the flick. Though the movie theater was crowded, she still enjoyed herself, and spent half of the movie with her head on Logan’s shoulder, waiting for him to make a move. After all, date movies were for making out, weren’t they?

Except he didn’t, and when they walked back to the subway, Bront? was a little confused. Their date had gone so well. She’d found out so much about him and been so comfortable with Logan tonight, but he was keeping it platonic. Extremely platonic. And she didn’t know how to handle that. After all, they’d been intimate before.

Extremely intimate.

Since it was late, he walked her back to Gretchen’s apartment building, and they stood on the stoop, gazing at each other.

“Are you going to give me a kiss good night?” Bront? asked.

Logan looked up at her with a slow, assessing gaze, and then shook his head. “Not tonight.”

“Why not?” She flushed at how forward that sounded. “I just mean . . . we’ve already been lovers. I—”

“Bront?,” Logan said in a soft voice, hushing her. He stepped closer, and his hand moving to her waist, tugging her a little closer to him. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. It’s that if I start, I don’t think I can stop.”

Her entire body felt suffused with heat at his words. “Logan, I—”

“No, let me finish,” he said. “You need this to feel comfortable with me again. You want to date without the money or the power. I understand that. And now that I’ve had some time to settle into the idea, I like it. So we’re going to take things slow.” He took her hand in his, and then raised it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles. “We’re not going to take things to the next level again until you’re ready. But I don’t want just sex from you, Bront?. When we go to bed together again, it’s going to be you and me. Strings attached and all. So think long and hard about what you want. Because I know what I want. I want you.”

So direct and to the point. She felt breathless, gazing up into his serious face. “I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet,” she told him honestly.

He pressed another kiss to her knuckles and smiled. “Then we date again. What are you doing tomorrow night?”

“I have to check my work calendar to see if I’m free,” she began.

“Bront?,” he said patiently. “We both know you can be free tomorrow night. Don’t play games.”

He had a point. She was just pushing to see if she could win, and it wasn’t fair to him. “I’m free. What do you want to do, then?”

“Be with you.”

At this rate, she was never going to stop blushing. He made her feel . . . a little excited, but strangely pleased. She rather liked being the center of his universe, even if at the moment his universe consisted of small, easy dates. “Do you want to go bowling? Dinner?”

“Have you been to Broadway yet?”

Excitement flared through her. “Oh! No, I haven’t, but I’m dying to. I would love to see a show! Isn’t it too late to find tickets to anything good, though?”

“Leave that up to me. I’ll pick you up for dinner tomorrow.” He reluctantly released her hand. “Think of me tonight?”

“I will. Good night, Logan.”

She watched him descend the steps of her building and head back down the street to the subway. He didn’t look back at her, but that was okay. Her entire body was still warm from his words.

What do you want to do, then?

Be with you . . . Think of me tonight.

Strange how admitting that she would think of him somehow felt more intimate than a dozen kisses.

Bront? went inside, heading up to the apartment. Gretchen hadn’t moved from the space she’d occupied when Bront? had left hours earlier, except her bun now had several pencils stuck into it, and the cat had moved to curl around her feet. She looked up at Bront? as if surprised, then glanced at the clock. “Oh. Oh. It’s late.” She rubbed her eyes and stared at her computer screen. “Well, shit. I think I lost track of time. How’d it go?”

“Good,” Bront? said with a dreamy sigh. “And bad. I’m still totally in love with him.”

“Just don’t tell him that,” Gretchen said, reaching down to pet Igor. “I guess I’ll stop hating him until you two break up again.”

Bront? made a face. “Very funny. We’re going out again tomorrow night.”

“Fine with me. That’ll give me a chance to fix this last chapter I wrote. It’s horrible.” She stared at the screen and grimaced. “Good thing this book won’t have my real name on it.”