The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(50)

Maybe so, but there was a reason clichés existed. He lifted his tux off the knob, refusing to be lectured about dating by his sister. “I’m going to hang this up in my room. When I get back, you let me know if we’re shopping for dresses or working on the project.”

While he was in his room, Ryan called.

“Hey, buddy. What’s up?”

“I need a favor,” he replied with a hushed voice.

“Okay. Shoot.”

“I’ve been planning to propose to Steffi this weekend, but she didn’t know that and invited her brother and Claire to go out with us on Saturday. I don’t want to tell her and ruin the surprise. So Ben volunteered to come up with a last-minute excuse, but that leaves Claire. I’d call her, but I’m not sure I trust her not to accidentally tip Steffi off. Could you invite her to do something under the guise of the work she’s doing for you? That way, Steffi wouldn’t worry about her and I’d get my girl to myself for the night.”

“Congrats, pal. That’s a big step.” Logan had yet to see a marriage he truly admired or envied, but maybe Ryan’s second would be the first. “I’ll be glad to run interference. Consider it done.”

“Great, thanks. I owe you.”

“No problem. Good luck!” Logan hung up and crossed to his window, which looked out over the Sound. The day’s cold rain had washed away most of the snow, leaving a windswept tableau of grays, blues, and browns in every direction.

He’d been lucky to grow up in such a beautiful location with all the advantages he’d had. None of them, however, were helping him much where Claire was concerned.

For a few minutes, he considered how to get her to cancel her plans without raising her suspicions. He wanted to take her on another adventure before cold feet and her mom froze her here in town again. He needed an idea that would appeal to her passion for design and beauty. Near enough for her to manage, but far enough to get her out of her comfort zone.

He dialed her number. When she answered, she sounded surprised. “Logan?”

“That’s me.”

“I know. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just calling to say good night and ask a favor.”

“Another favor?”

He rested one hand on the window frame overhead while watching a gull fly by. “Do you trust me?”

“I don’t think so.” She snickered.

“I’m serious. Do you trust me?”

She paused, which bummed him out. “I don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“If I asked you to go someplace with me, would you come without asking questions? Would you trust me that I would keep you safe and you’d enjoy the excursion?”

Another prolonged silence followed. He might have to tell her the truth about Ryan’s request if he couldn’t coax her into an adventure.

“I guess so.”

The shock of it made him break into a smile. “Awesome. I’ll pick you up Saturday at noon. Dress comfortably.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You said you’d trust me. Go with the surprise. I promise you won’t be sorry.”

“Logan . . .”

“Hmm?” He settled his hand against the cold glass and removed it, watching his palm print slowly fade. Here and then gone, like much in life. But if he blew warm air on it, the prints would reappear . . . like a memory.

“If I want to turn around, promise we will.”

He closed his eyes. “I promise.”





Chapter Eleven

Claire readjusted the lavender-scented eye mask Logan had handed her when she’d gotten into his car an hour ago.

“Keep it on!” He squeezed her hand, which he’d been holding for at least ten minutes, ever since she’d started twisting her fingers together and muttering about how fast she guessed he was driving.

“How much longer?” She continued bouncing her right knee.

“Mmm, less than twenty minutes.”

Twenty minutes that could feel like another hour. She tugged at the bottom of the mask. “I’m so disoriented. I don’t think I like this.”

Logan might be as fluid as water, but clearly she was as immutable as an iceberg.

“Compared with our trip to the city, you haven’t clutched your stomach or clenched your jaw. Blocking your vision also let you focus on the guided meditation CD, didn’t it?”

She’d take him to task for his self-congratulatory tone, but, truthfully, his tactics had kept her from overthinking, until now. “Can you at least tell me where we’re headed?”

“And spoil the surprise?”

It would disappoint him, but she’d reached the limit of her ability to surrender all control. “Well . . . yes.”

“But I want to see your reaction when we get there.” His displeasure rang out. “Just a little longer . . .”

She sighed. “I feel stupid. Imagine what other people who see me are thinking.”

“That you’re being kidnapped by someone with great taste in blindfolds?”

She’d laugh if the reason she was wearing the blindfold weren’t so pathetic.

“Claire, who cares what other people think? We’re having our own adventure.” He must have glanced over and seen her wrinkle her nose. “How about this? If you can guess where we’re headed, you can take off the mask.”