If she'd read the signals wrong from both him and Madison, she was about to mortally embarrass herself, but she was on a roll lately on asserting herself in risky ways, so why should she stop now? "One of them is like you, without a doubt. The other one, I can't tell. I think the key to Chris is Geoff, but they're circling each other like wolves who are crossing paths for the first time. Yet they've known each other forever. It makes me worry that I'm going to . . ."
She paused, struggling with it. Logan sat down in the chair across from her. He didn't prompt her, didn't seem impatient. He was just waiting, listening with senses that she thought went far beyond his ears. It flustered her even as it gave her the courage to continue.
"Geoff says there's nothing I need to do, that I can't push. That they have to work it out, that Chris has to work it out. I sort of get that, but it's not my thing to sit back and wait to see if something is going to go the right way or crash and burn. If it crashes and burns, how do I know that my not doing anything didn't contribute to that? I love them, and I'm so afraid of hurting them, but I tell myself that's pointless, because the gate's wide-open now, the horses all out of the barn. I might as well just let them run, right? Or should I try to chase them down and get them going in the right direction?"
A smile had slowly grown on Logan's face as the words spilled out. Now she took a breath. "Talk about the gate being wide-open," she said lamely. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" He leaned forward, knees spread and wrists loosely resting on them. He had long, thick brown hair tied back off his shoulders. It reminded her of Adrian Paul's in the Highlander series. "Sometimes we answer questions just by saying them out loud," he said. "But it probably is going to crash and burn. Not just once, but quite a few times."
Gee, thanks. I feel loads better. He shook his head and touched her knee in reassurance. "Sometimes that's how you figure out what will work," he said. "You love them. It's the love that will keep you working toward it. While love can sometimes be about maintaining status quo, overall, love isn't a stagnant force. If it's real, it grows and changes with the people involved."
His look was thoughtful. "Geoff told you to let it be. Am I right?"
"Yes sir--I mean, yes." She turned scarlet. His expression and tone had shifted, steady and even in a way that she recognized all too well. It was merely a Southern courtesy to address someone as sir or ma'am, and he was probably about fifteen years older than her, but that wasn't what had prompted it.
Help, I've found out I'm a sub and I can't turn it off.
Logan moved on smoothly. "So if he's told you to let it be, and the two of them have a long history, trust your Master."
Hearing someone else call Geoff that gave her a delightful little flutter, but her tart response was out before she could bite it back.
"That's just what I'd expect another Master to say."
Logan's sexy smile would scatter any breathing woman's brain cells. "You may be right about that. But it doesn't mean I'm not right. Trust your instincts, not your fears. The trick is knowing which is which."
"Logan?" Troy approached, giving her a courteous nod. "These two guys have a question I think you're the better one to answer. It's about building . . . furniture."
Logan glanced at him, then over his shoulder at Geoff and Chris. Geoff looked Sam's way with a Doing okay? smile. The smile she sent back had extra wattage, not only answering the question but reacting to Logan and Geoff's expressions side by side. The Dom quality was as evident as a brand stamp, though the models were deliciously different.
&nb
sp; "All right," Logan told his employee. Then he looked at her. "All good here?"
"Yes," she said, though she was wondering what furniture Geoff and Chris were considering in that book. "Thank you," she said.
"Good luck." He touched her knee again. "Have fun with it. That's almost as important as anything else when you're getting started. Love has more room to figure things out when we don't take ourselves too seriously. Learning to let go is tough. For particularly stubborn subs, the only way to do that is to tie them up and teach them to let go. I might share that tidbit with these gentlemen, see what they can do with it."
At that outrageous statement, he winked and rose. When he left them, Troy's eyes danced. "It completely blows your concentration when they say things like that, doesn't it?"
She blew out an exaggerated breath in agreement and earned his chuckle, which left her grinning as he retreated to help other customers. It was fun to play--and commiserate--with another sub, another new experience for her. Okay. Worry less and have fun with it. Maybe she should tattoo that on her hands so she'd remember it.
She blanched as she saw Logan talking to Geoff and Chris and motioning to something on the wall. An old-fashioned buggy whip. While Geoff and Chris discussed whatever Logan had just told them, the store owner tossed her a look over his shoulder, full of mischief. She narrowed her gaze at him, even as her heart pounded a little faster and her hands got damp. Surely he hadn't suggested . . . but what if he had?
*
She bought her gloves. When Chris and Geoff came to make their purchase, they were empty-handed, but Chris took her arm, guiding her out the front door into the late-morning sunshine hitting the front sidewalk. Geoff was taking out his wallet and waiting for Logan to ring up whatever he'd been writing out on a piece of notepaper.
"So what are you buying?" she demanded.
"Something." Chris slid an arm around her waist, hooking his fingers in the waistband of her jeans.
"You're not going to tell me what it is."
"Nope." His eyes twinkled at her, though his mouth remained serious, as if part of his mind was still mulling over whatever he'd been thinking when he'd been staring at her so intently in the store. Pinching her lightly, he withdrew his hand and ambled along the sidewalk displays. He studied a flat of yard plants, but something in his face told her he wasn't even seeing them.
"Chris . . ."
He lifted his head, his brow arched. "Okay," she said. "I'm going to say it straight out. If any of this is making you uncomfortable, I don't want you to feel like you have to . . . like we can't go back . . ."