“I love your apartment,” I say. “It’s very homey.”
Halfway through dinner, Logan rises to his feet. “I r
emembered I have a bottle of champagne. I’ll grab it.”
“What are we celebrating?” I call after him as he disappears from my view.
When he returns, he hands me the glasses, pops the cork off the bottle, and pours the fizzy drink in the glasses.
“What are we celebrating?” I ask again.
“That you got your key.”
“Oh.” My stomach drops a tad. “I’d rather we celebrate after the opening.”
“No.” Logan takes my feet in his lap, making me lose my balance for a split second. “It’s important to stop and celebrate little milestones too. It helps you recharge and have energy even when you still have a lot of work ahead of you.”
I smile. “You always say the right thing.”
“I’ve been in your position. I don’t want you to be overwhelmed.”
Which is exactly how it is, but with Logan next to me, I don’t feel like I carry the weight of the entire world on my shoulders.
Clinking my glass against his, I tip it back, tasting the bubbles. The fireplace, the champagne. . . God, this man makes it hard for me to remember why keeping my walls up around him is a good idea. His charm disarms me. I take in the sight of his glorious body, the ridges and lines of his toned chest visible underneath the thin, white shirt. Desire stirs between my thighs and my breathing becomes more labored. Just when I thought this night couldn’t get any better, he starts massaging my feet.
“Oh, this is heaven,” I murmur, closing my eyes. His hands work wonders on my tired feet. God, why does this man have to be so amazing? I feel so many things when I’m around him. Right now, I’m spoiled and safe—which scares me. Not many people have made me feel safe.
When I open my eyes, I find him staring at me hungrily, his eyes dark with lust. Oh, my. I take my feet away, sipping from my champagne glass.
“I’m sorry about cutting our date short tonight,” he says. “Pippa—”
I hold my hand up to silence him. “Don’t worry. You never have to apologize for that. Family comes first, I understand.”
Logan’s eyes cloud. Instinctively, I scoot closer to him, looking for a way to soothe him.
“That’s probably the best motto to describe me. It’s always been like that.”
“It should be like that.”
“So, it doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it?”
“It did bother plenty of women I’ve dated. They felt they came second after my family, and weren’t happy with it. I had a fiancée, Sylvia, a few years ago. She broke up with me over this. Summer needed help with one of her first galleries, and I was spending most of my free time with her, which meant I had to cut back on a lot of the time I spent with Sylvia. I told her she could hang out at Summer’s with me.
“She didn’t have to do anything, just be there, but that proposition didn’t go over too well. I felt guilty for leaving her alone too much, but one night she came clean and told me she was leaving me. She said she had filled her long hours alone with the pool boy.”
I barely suppress a gasp. Logan’s tone is neutral, as if all this means nothing to him, but the deep lines in his forehead tell another story.
“She threw it in my face that I practically pushed her to do it, and if I continued, I’d have to settle for the idea that any woman I’ll be with will find someone on the side to fill the time when I leave her to hurry to my family’s side. She felt she always came in second place for me.”
I stare at him, absolutely stunned. I can see on his features that the betrayal still hurts, and hell, I can’t blame him. I’d be hurting too. I search for appropriate words. My first instinct is to name-call the vixen, but that wouldn’t be the best course.
“Anyone who believes they’re in competition with your family is not worth your time.”
Logan’s lips curve up, and the smile reaches his eyes. I breathe a sigh of relief, surprised again, by how important this man’s happiness is to me.
“Sorry for bringing Sylvia up. Exes talk doesn’t make for an exciting date conversation, even if this is a pseudo-date.”