Her touch was light, but it may as well have been a cattle prod for its effect on him. When he had taken her into his arms, he hadn’t thought about anything other than comforting her. But now? He shifted on the seat, his pants feeling too tight in a way he hoped Harper didn’t notice. He looked down at her hand resting on his and she pulled it away.
She smiled at him, seemingly oblivious to the chaos she brought to his state of mind.
And his pants.
He rolled his eyes at himself and started the truck, pulling out into the street and heading back out of town toward home. Logan tried to ignore the discomfort of the tight denim, but with her sitting next to him it was next to impossible. The scent of her shampoo and the light floral perfume she wore filled the cabin of the truck.
Logan wound down his window, but that made it worse as her hair began to fly around her face. She was so beautiful his chest ached to look at her, and she didn’t seem to know it.
He scolded himself for taking even quick glances at her as he drove.You should be looking at the road.
The ride back to Beaver Road was silent, except for the radio playing one of the two stations Rowan could get in the old truck. Country music filled the cab, and Logan was startled when Harper began to softly sing along to the music.
Her voice was like nothing he’d ever heard. So clear and perfect that he didn’t want to breathe in case he did something that made her stop singing. He slowed the truck, hoping to make the moment last, but the turn to Beaver Road came all too quickly.
Harper stopped singing when he pulled to the side of the road.
Would she sing for me if I asked her to?
Logan turned off the truck and they hopped out, quickly picking their way back through the debris strewn across the road.
“What did you do with the keys?” She asked when they made their way to his own truck.
“Keys?”
“For Rowan’s truck?”
“I tucked them behind the visor.”
Harper’s mouth drops open, looking from Logan to where Rowan’s truck was parked in full view of the main road. “Won’t someone steal it?”
Logan laughed as he turned to open the door for Harper to his own, much newer, vehicle. “No.”
Harper climbed in. “Because it’s so old?”
“Because this is Cape Wilde,” he said.
He was reminded again of how Harper’s world was so very different to his own. He’s from a small town, she’s from LA. He lived a quiet life, she was forever in the spotlight. Or at least so close to it she may as well be. They are very, very different people.
And yet he was still drawn to her.
She’s not Savannah.
He knew that, but Harper was still going to leave for a life where success was determined by popularity and looks. Didn’t Harper say as much herself when she was talking about how Isla was the one that belonged in the spotlight?
Logan scowled. There was something really wrong with that.
He picked his way back slowly to the house, the road still covered in debris. Normally, he’d stop and start clearing it up, but he wanted to get Harper home first.
Home.
It felt right having her by his side. He’d never brought another woman to his home, except for his sister and his mom, and they didn’t count. Not like Harper did.
The light was still good when he pulled into his usual spot next to the house. Logan helped Harper bring her things inside before heading back out to the truck.
“Are you going somewhere?”
He turned to see Harper standing in the doorway to the mud room, fuzzy socks on her feet and her hair dragged up on top of her head in a messy bun held in place with a bright pink scrunchie. She looked cozy and adorable, and he wanted to do nothing more than wrap her in his arms and kiss her senseless.
