Lies I Told(32)

“Exactly!” He opened the door to the fridge. “What can I get you to drink?”

We chose sodas, and he picked up the bowl of popcorn and led me upstairs to the media room. I expected it to be lavish, fitted with a big-screen TV and movie projector and those fancy chairs that lean back, but it was just a cozy room, its walls lined with bookshelves, the floors covered in what looked to be old, intricately designed overlapping rugs.

“Have a seat.” He indicated the overstuffed sectional in the middle of the room, and I sat down, setting my soda on a coaster on the coffee table. “What kind of movie do you feel like watching?”

We spent twenty minutes browsing the Fairchilds’ DVD collection before settling on Almost Famous. We’d both seen it, but it was one of my favorites, and I had a feeling that sitting next to Logan for two hours was going to make concentrating difficult. Better to go with something I’d already seen.

He sat close to me, the bowl of popcorn resting on both our legs, his bare arm brushing against mine. I had to fight to keep a blank expression while inside, a fire began to smolder. I wondered if he felt it, too. If I was just imagining the chemistry between us. But about halfway through the movie, he lifted the popcorn off our legs. His T-shirt strained against his broad shoulders as he leaned forward to set the bowl on the coffee table. When he sat back, he angled his body toward me and took my hand, all pretense of watching the movie gone.

“Grace . . .” He looked into my eyes, and I felt his hand tremble over mine. He opened my fingers, lifting my hand to his mouth and touching his lips to the tender skin of my palm. I had to fight not to gasp as heat rushed through my body like mercury. “I really, really like you.”

“I really . . . really like you, too.” The words caught in my throat a little, tripping over the desire building in my veins.

He lowered my hand, still holding it as he leaned in, tension pulling between us like a velvet cord. Part of me wanted to run. To get away before it was too late. I think I knew that once his lips touched mine, I’d be lost. But the other part of me was screaming for him. And it didn’t matter anyway. A second later his mouth was on mine, and then there was no room for thought. No room for plotting, for the con, for plans of escape.

His lips were gentle at first, his kiss almost chaste. Then his tongue flicked against my lips, sending a lick of fire through my insides. I opened to him like the jasmine that bloomed on the peninsula under the light of the moon. He pulled me closer as he explored my mouth, holding my face in his palms like he wanted to be sure I was real, wanted to be sure I wouldn’t disappear.

But I was disappearing. Melting into him, losing myself in his kiss, in the feel of his hands as they moved down my neck, his fingers twining themselves in my hair. For a while there was nothing in the world but us, floating in a universe of our own making. When the fog finally lifted, it was only because the credits were rolling on the movie, the music a little too loud.

I was lying on the sofa, Logan’s body stretched next to mine. We were both fully clothed. We’d done nothing but kiss, although that seemed too mild a word to describe how we’d spent the last two hours, how it had made me feel. He dropped a kiss on my nose as he reached for the remote, silencing the TV. Then he pulled me close again, lying next to me on the couch.

Emotion surged through my body as I laid my head against his chest, listening to the soft thump-thump of his heart.

“You’re shaking,” Logan said, hugging me tighter, kissing the top of my head.

“Am I?” I hadn’t realized it, had been too caught up in the raw feeling swirling through my body.

“Yeah,” he said. “Are you cold?”

“No.”

“Then what is it?” he asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

He was silent for a minute. “I’m not playing games with you, Grace. You know that, don’t you?”

I nodded against his chest.

He pulled back a little, looking down into my face. “I’ve never felt so . . . drawn to someone. You know?”

“I know,” I whispered.

“I can’t explain it, but it’s like as soon as I saw you, I just knew.”

“Knew what?”

He smiled a little. “That I wanted you, of course.”

I felt the corners of my mouth lift.

“So what about it?” he asked. “Will you be mine, Grace?”

Nodding was almost a reflex. A formality. I was already his.

Later, we leaned against the Saab, lingering as we said good-bye against the sound of the waves crashing on the cliffs below. I was still a little fuzzy around the edges, like nothing existed beyond the sudden promise of our feelings for each other.

Reality didn’t hit me until I was halfway home, navigating the dark and windy roads of the peninsula. I had agreed to be Logan’s girlfriend, and while my mom and dad would be pleased—it would only make getting information on the Fairchilds easier—I knew it wasn’t that simple.

Logan made me forget who I was. Why I was here. And if I needed proof of how dangerous that was, I didn’t need to look any further than the time we’d spent together. Because while I’d been wrapped up in Logan, I hadn’t done a single thing to case the Fairchild estate.





Twenty-Four


The house was dark when I pulled up in front. It wasn’t until I stepped into the foyer that I saw the flickering blue light of the TV coming from the family room. I hesitated, guessing at my chances of making it upstairs without being noticed. I wasn’t up for conversation. Wasn’t up for giving an account of my night with Logan. Right now, it still belonged to the two of us. Once I let my mom and dad and Parker in on all the details, it would be just another move on the game board. I wondered if its magic would hold up to the harsh light of day.