The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(53)

Logan returned his phone to his pocket and strolled back to where he’d left her. “Ben’s under the weather, so he canceled, which means I’m saving you from being the third wheel.”

“You’re very bossy.” She scowled, even as her kamikaze heart leaped at no longer having a good excuse to refuse his invitation.

“But you’ll forgive me because we’re painting outside the lines today, and I’m treating you to a lovely meal by the sea.”

Painting outside the lines. Ha! Her pulse fluttered while she groped for another reason to bail. Prolonging this outing was a bad idea on so many levels, not the least of which was that it meant they’d be driving home on the highway in the dark. “You promised we could turn around and go whenever I wanted.”

“I did.” He clasped his hands behind his back and looked at her, holding very still. “Is that really what you want, Claire?”



If Logan had less self-confidence, he’d be quite humiliated. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d planned an outing specifically for any woman, let alone one who couldn’t wait to get away from him.

“You’re making me nervous.” She bit her lip.

“I could say the same to you. I’ve never had so much trouble convincing someone to join me for dinner.”

She looked at her feet. “I should text Steffi.”

“Ryan will fill her in. Besides, I’m sure she’d rather you be on an adventure with me than at dinner with her and Ryan.”

“The adventure part, probably.” She tipped her head to one side. “The you part . . . I doubt.”

He grasped his hips. “Steffi loves me.”

“True. But . . . well, I don’t want her to get the wrong idea.”

“Wrong idea about what?”

“Us.” Claire’s hands turned upward as if the answer were so obvious it needn’t have been stated.

“‘Wrong.’ ‘Nervous.’ All these negative words.” He affected a pout, tilting toward her. “Let’s stay focused on the positive—the possibilities.”

“I’m already way outside my comfort zone. I know you mean well, but I also think this is a bit of a game for you. You’ve turned me into some temporary project.”

“That’s not true.” Maybe it had started that way, but now it was more. Regardless, he admired her for calling him out. Her refreshing authenticity moved him. He didn’t need to pretend anything around Claire, which relaxed him in ways he hadn’t even known he’d needed. “I wish you’d believe that I’m exactly where I want to be.”

“So do I, Logan.” She’d said it so softly he almost missed it. Then she turned and started toward the next stop on the tour, headset back in place, leaving him uncertain about whether he should cancel the dinner reservation.

It seemed that the tour no longer held her rapt attention, which meant she was mulling over the pros and cons of his invitation. He trailed behind her, giving her space, trusting that she’d come around if he was patient.

She and Rosie strolled ahead, down the hallway. Given his history, he couldn’t blame Claire for her suspicions, he supposed. Even he couldn’t quite explain his recent obsession with her.

There was nothing particularly sexy about her Stewart-plaid dress, ivory tights, or oversize ivory cable-knit sweater. The ankle boots and chunky silver necklace gave the ensemble the slightest edge, but nary a hint of cleavage or skin. Yet he found himself curious about what she’d hidden beneath all those layers. Would she be as open and honest in bed as she was out of it? How refreshing might it be to wake up beside a woman he actually enjoyed talking to and with whom he could just be himself?

He’d gotten lost in his musings, so he nearly ran her over when she suddenly stopped and turned on him. “I’ll stay for dinner.”

“Excellent.” He held his arm out for her. She looked at it and smiled before clasping his forearm.

They finished the tour without talking much, but he noticed that she’d started limping. “Does your hip hurt?”

She shrugged. “Sorry if I’m slowing you down.”

“You’re doing great.” A blast of cold air greeted them when he pushed open the door. “In fact, I think you’ve earned yourself a bottle of good wine, or perhaps you prefer champagne?”

She shook her head as they crossed to the car. “If I drink a bottle of anything, I’ll fall asleep at the table.”

“I’ve had worse dates,” he teased, opening the car door for her.

“I doubt that.” She slid onto the seat with an audible sigh. He closed the door and walked around the car.

“I’ve never had any woman fall asleep on me, but there have been some who put me to sleep.”

She batted his arm. “That’s not nice.”

“Neither were those women,” he teased, starting to drive the mile or so to the restaurant.

“Then why did you ask them out?” Her brows pulled together.

Such a naive question. Or perhaps a straight shooter like Claire wouldn’t go out with someone based on sex appeal alone. In any case, best he treated it like a rhetorical question and didn’t answer.

After a moment passed in silence, she said, “I have to ask you something, and I’d like you to be honest.”