When You're Ready (Ready #1)(28)


“You are so beautiful, sweet Clare.”

Just as he started to lean in, his soft lips mere inches from mine, the Innkeeper came barreling through the door.

“Welcome to Thompson - oh! Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt!” she said, suddenly noticing our intimate embrace.

Taking everything in stride, Logan gave me a quick wink, “No apologies necessary, Ms. Thompson.” Logan politely responded, turning to face our host, but keeping his hand firmly secured around my waist. I was so glad he was the one speaking at that moment because he was obviously the more mature one. I wanted to scream “Go away!” so we could go back to the kiss she interrupted.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you in person. I’m Logan and this lovely woman is Clare. We very much appreciate your hospitality this evening.”

Ms. Thompson, an older woman who reminded me of my grandmother fell instantly under Logan’s spell the moment he spoke and was practically swooning. Her eyes were roaming all over my date. I held back the laugh that was currently lodged in my throat. I had to give the old woman credit though, she had good taste. “Well, why don’t you two come on in, and we’ll get you all set for your garden tour?” Ms. Thompson suggested brightly, leading the way into the expansive house.

The interior of the house was just as stunning as I knew it would be. I couldn’t help but run my hands over the hand-carved banister, or brush my fingers along the antique furnishings. The family had done an amazing job of keeping everything maintained and the history preserved. There wasn’t a single modern looking item in view. It was as if you had stepped back in time. Ms. Thompson assured us that the house was equipped with all the modern conveniences, but they had made sure with each upgrade that the integrity of the house was maintained.

Ms. Thompson wasn’t giving us an official tour of the house until later, but I still found myself stopping at least a dozen times as we made our way through the halls to admire one thing or another. Being the ever gracious host, Ms. Thompson entertained my curiosity with interesting tidbits and facts from her family’s history. Logan must have enjoyed history himself because he stood with me, listening intently to every word and even asking questions of his own.

We finally made our way to the main parlor, a large room with antique sofas and family portraits hung on the walls. There was a large picnic basket set on a coffee table with a neatly folded blanket set to the side. A single red rose sat on top of the blanket.

“Wow! What is this?” I exclaimed.

“Well, I wanted you to have something special on your tour of the gardens, so I packed you a little something.” This was a “little something”? What did the woman consider a meal? Logan might have to use a wheelbarrow to get me out of here.

She grabbed the large wicker basket and blanket and handed it to Logan. She offered Logan the rose and a wink and pushed us toward the front of the house.

“Now off you go! I’ve got a meal to prepare! Enjoy!” she commanded sweetly as she walked in the opposite direction, humming softly to herself.

Logan took the perfect red rose and handed it to me, never breaking eye contact until he reached over to kiss me softly on the cheek. I bit my lip in a vain attempt to keep the blush from creeping up my face. With a quick wink, he adjusted the basket to his right hand and grabbed mine with his left and we head for the door. Since that moment on the porch when we almost kissed, he hadn’t stopped touching me. As we walked through the house with our host earlier, his hand sought out mine, or he’d wind his hand around my waist. It was like he was making sure I was still there and I didn’t want him to stop.

Walking back outside, we took a left, intent on the larger of the two gardens. Ms. Thompson said this was the better of the two and perfect for a late day picnic. I personally didn’t know how you could choose a favorite, but I wasn’t a gardener. Anyone who could keep a flower alive was a genius in my book.

The late day sun felt warm against my skin as we began our stroll down the garden path, meandering through arched trellises and flowering trees. Looking over at Logan as he carried the large basket and had the blanket tucked under his arm, I chuckled.

“You sure you can handle that heavy basket all by yourself, Logan?” He insisted on carrying everything, and I carried only the red single rose. Sometime male chivalry is dumb.

“You wound me, Clare.” He moaned in mock pain, gesturing to his heart with our joined hands.

I giggled, “Ahh, poor Logan. Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need a lollipop? Maddie always likes suckers when she’s upset.” I preferred chocolate. Lollipops did nothing for me.

Looking mischievous, he said, “No sucker, thanks. But I can think of something else to lick that would make me a great deal happier.”

“Perv!” I yelled, playfully hitting him on the shoulder with my free hand.

“You walked right into that one, and I wasn’t lying,” he laughed.

“You would think with a best friend like Leah I would have learned not to say things like that by now!” I huffed, trying to sound indignant but failing miserably due to the grin I couldn’t seem to shake.

“No, please don’t. I am a huge fan of your oblivious dirty talk.”

“I do not talk dirty!” I cried.

“We’ll see,” he said, no longer joking. Those two little words held promise and possibility and I took an audible gulp as my mind started racing with indecent thoughts. Okay, yes. I did have a dirty mind. Sue me.

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