The Promise of Us (Sanctuary Sound #2)(65)
“I don’t have the patience for shopping. Based on this, I trust your taste implicitly. I’m not picky and don’t care about designer labels or custom anything. Whatever is comfortable and works, and the sooner we can do it, the better. I can’t wait to call this place home.”
She smiled, although that statement fell on her heart like a hammer because his home was nearly one hundred miles away. If she were sly, she’d order handmade furniture from around the world so that it wouldn’t be completed for six to nine months.
“I’ll get started this week. Steffi will be demolishing Mrs. Brewster’s bathroom, too, so suddenly business is looking up for us. If this keeps up, we’ll be able to rent a small space in town soon.” She drank more of her wine while Logan stared at her in a way that generated combustible heat. But these feelings went so far beyond fleeting passion. A river of gratitude swelled in her heart. “Thank you for hiring me for this job. It’s been a lifesaver, in more ways than one.”
“Oh?” He leaned closer, widening his feet on the floor, refusing to break eye contact. “In what other ways, Claire?”
She finished her wine before answering him, letting its warm tickle fan through her limbs. “As much as I griped, going to the city and Rhode Island reminded me of the life I used to take for granted before my injury. I’m not ready to dash off everywhere or throw my scrapbook in the fire, but maybe, in time, I’ll get more comfortable traveling beyond these few coastal communities.” She shrugged at the meager victory. “At least now I want to try.”
His beautiful eyes shimmered. She’d expected a self-satisfied response, not this heartfelt expression. He reached for one of her hands and held it in both of his. “So I helped you?”
“You did.” She reached up to touch his cheek with her free hand, then let it fall. “And that’s not all. I’m going to pitch your dad for the chance to decorate his new hotels.”
“Really?” Logan let go of her hand and sat back, his smile less certain. “I know I suggested that earlier, but I’m not sure you’d like working with him.”
“I doubt I’d work directly with him much, but a nonresidential project of that magnitude could do wonders for our bank account and rep. At the very least, we’d definitely have the money to lease the retail space I’ve been wanting.”
“And the travel?”
“First things first. We have to win the contract. If that happens, I’ll find a way to force myself to go, just like I did with you. Steffi will be with me.” She shrugged. “Can’t hurt to submit a bid, anyway.”
He tilted his head and folded his arms, appearing to be in conflict with himself. “I thought you didn’t want to get more involved with my family because of Peyton.”
Claire pictured Peyton, who’d courageously come to face more rejection today. “She and I will never be friends like before, but fate keeps pushing us together—at the upcoming gala, as part of Steffi’s bridal party. It’s obvious that I have to rebuild some kind of relationship with her. For Steffi’s sake, and mine.”
Without warning, Logan pulled her onto his lap and laid his cheek against her head. “You have no idea how happy this makes me, for everyone’s sake, including ours.”
Ours. No better word existed in any language. Of course, Logan wasn’t implying any long-term promise. He was firmly an “in the moment” guy. For now, she’d give his philosophy a try to savor each second without projecting ahead to maybes and wishes.
She kept her cheek resting on his shoulder, nestling against him, glad for the chance to say some things without having to look in his eyes. “I’m sorry about this morning and for ruining what had otherwise been a memorable night.”
He felt so warm and yet solid at the same time. It still astounded her that, after all these years and dreams, she could be sitting on Logan’s lap at his invitation.
“Memorable enough to repeat?” He slowly massaged her back and waist, as if waiting for permission to do more. He raised his head, tipping it sideways to catch her eye.
She turned her face until they shared the same breath. “Yes.”
He crushed his mouth to hers, gripping her head with one hand while pulling her snugly against him with the other. She could feel him hardening beneath her bottom.
“Let’s take the wine upstairs.” He nipped at her lower lip. “We’re filling the bathtub with bath salts and hot water while you’re feeling this adventuresome.”
“That’s a real thing with you, isn’t it.” She kept her arms loosely wound around his neck. Her human life raft.
“It is.” He kissed her again.
Yet another way he’d push her out of her comfort zone. No more shrouding her scars under blankets and the cover of darkness. Being naked in a tub would fully expose them. He’d see them turn redder the longer they soaked in hot water. Ugly reminders of lifelong limitations and pain.
“Trust me,” he urged. “There’s nothing you need to hide from me.”
She nodded her consent even as she trembled from the thought. Logan rose, keeping her in his arms and carrying her up the stairs to her room.
While Claire undressed and concealed herself with her robe, Logan went to the bathroom. She found him filling the tub with steaming water and lavender bath salts. He’d even stolen a candle from Steffi’s old room and lit it on the vanity. Its flickering light bounced off the mirror and reflected little beams of euphoria throughout the room.