The Birthday List(112)

From out of a back room, a woman emerged and smiled at Jackson, then at one of the regulars as she set down a pizza pan.

Her simple black tank molded to her breasts and flat stomach, leaving her tanned arms bare. Her jeans sat low on her hips, cinched tight with a black leather belt that was just a shade darker than her long, thick hair. Her white smile was full of straight teeth, except for one in the middle of the bottom row that sat slightly off-center.

It had been over six years—nearly seven—since I’d spent the night with my hands wrapped up in that hair. Since I’d memorized that smile while I’d held Thea in my arms.

Years, and she looked exactly the same.

“Logan, do you want pizza?”

I shook my head, sliding off my creaking stool. “Excuse me for a moment.”

At my movement, Thea’s dark eyes—nearly black, like her hair—swept the room. She smiled at me for a second, but the expression fell away and the color in her face drained as recognition dawned.

She remembers me. Thank god, she remembered me. I was man enough to admit that it would have crushed my ego if she hadn’t remembered me. Remembered that night.

I still thought about it now and then—whenever I was in the neighborhood of that hotel. Did she ever think about it? About me?

I’d gone back to her hotel bar once, months after we’d hooked up. But she hadn’t been there. The staff had told me that Thea had quit and moved out of the city. I’d been disappointed and pissed at myself for waiting too long—I’d been busy with work. Then life had moved on. Not long after I’d tried to find Thea again, I’d met Emmeline.

Still, I’d never forgotten Thea, even after all these years.

I’d never forgotten how those dark eyes had lulled me under her spell. How her amazing body—the perfect balance of toned, lean muscle to soft, feminine curves had felt beneath mine.

As I crossed the room, I held her wide, unblinking stare. “Thea.”

Her body jolted at my voice. “Lo-Logan.”

“It’s been a long time. How are you?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it without a word.

“Hey, Thea,” Jackson called. “We’re finally cracking that bottle of Macallan you insisted on buying.”

I grinned. That was why the Lark Cove Bar carried Macallan. She’d bought my favorite whisky for her bar, even if it had never been served.

“I . . .” Thea took a long breath, shaking her head and closing her eyes. When she opened them, the shock of seeing my face was gone.

But instead of the confident, sexy woman I’d expected to see once the surprise had faded, I saw fear.

Why would Thea be afraid of me? I’d treated her with nothing but respect during the night we’d shared. Hadn’t I?

Before I could say anything else, she sprang into action, grabbing a shot glass and slamming it on the bar. Then she reached behind her, swiping a bottle of tequila from a middle shelf. With a flick of her wrist, she poured the shot, not spilling a drop.

“Drink that,” she ordered. “We need to talk.”





I am so grateful for the incredible team who supports me through every book. Thanks to my editor, Elizabeth Nover, for teaching me with every project and pushing me to get better. To my proofreader, Julie Deaton, and my formatter, Stacey Blake, thank you for polishing each book to a shine. Thanks to Jenn, for the hours spent reading this at the last minute and giving me such helpful input. To Kaitlyn, for always being there to help, no matter what I need. Thanks to my cover designer, Sarah Hansen, for creating my beautiful cover. And to my publicist, Dani Sanchez, thank you for your amazing guidance and advice. It is such a pleasure working with you all.

To all of the bloggers and my fellow authors who have helped spread the word about this book, thank you for your incredible support. To my ARC team, thank you for the excitement you bring to each release. And to Jenn, Ana, Karen and all the members of Perry Street, thank you for being my cheerleading squad.

To my family and friends, thank you for all your love and encouragement. For believing in me when, at times, I don’t believe in myself.

And lastly, to my readers. There are a lot of books in this world. I am honored and so very grateful that you chose to pick up one of mine. Thank you.