“Because of how awful that first proof was,” he said. “You’re okay to enjoy yourself, but don’t break our rule. I promise you, I’ll know if you do.”
“Bullshit.”
“You’re welcome to test me.”
He was infuriating and intoxicating, and I loved every second of our back-and-forth. I pulled my hand away and tied the pants closed, my body muttering a protest.
“Fine,” I said. “I stopped.”
He chuckled. “Good girl.”
The rest of the week dragged. Getting to see Logan at work but not afterward was torture, and today, Friday, I didn’t see him at all. He had to use the day as vacation to help with last-minute wedding preparations and drive out to Arlington Heights to pick up his tux. We’d talked every night, but as Friday drew closer, those conversations were later and shorter.
He’d refused me all goddamn week, and yesterday I’d barely kept myself from breaking the rule. I was beginning to hate this, and when he asked permission to come himself, I told him to fuck off. He hinted I was only making it worse on myself.
I’d gotten approval, from him of course, to leave work early at four and take the blue line out to Arlington Heights.
I changed awkwardly in the microscopic and filthy bathroom on the train into a gray and yellow sheath dress with yellow heels.
He was waiting against his BMW at the Arlington Park racetrack, which was right on the other side of my train stop, wearing a gray suit with a black shirt beneath it, made casual with two buttons open. We didn’t say anything to each other as I walked toward his car and he straightened. He opened the passenger-side door for me, and then buried his face in my neck, kissing me there since he still hadn’t answered my question from Monday.
“Missed you today at the office, boss,” I murmured.
“I bet. Did Jamie get any work done?”
“I’m sure she put in as good of an effort as usual.”
When he was this close, I could smell his subtle cologne, and it made my knees go weak.
“You have no idea,” he whispered in my ear, “how good you look to me. I suggest you get in the car before I bend you over the hood.”
When I looked in his eyes, I was sure this was not an empty threat.
Paper crinkled underneath me when I sat, and I pulled it out, scanning it. My mouth went dry. He got into the driver’s seat and gave me a coy smile.
“That copy’s yours, for your records.” He feigned seriousness.
I folded the test results once, twice, and then once more, sliding it into my purse. My face felt like it was on fire. Bareback, I believe the term is? That’s what his test results had cleared him for.
Like the night he’d taken me to his place, once the car was in gear, his right hand went to rest comfortably on my knee, his hand just under the edge of my skirt. I liked it, but it was a thousand degrees in his car and the heat of his hand wasn’t helping.
“I should probably warn you,” he said, reading my mind and rolling up the windows, turning on the air conditioning, “my family may be a bit overly excited to meet you.”
“Why’s that?”
“I didn’t bring home too many of my past girlfriends, so taking you as my date gives the impression things are pretty serious between us.”
Weren’t they? He’d paid a rather large amount of money to have me. I knew how he meant it, though. There may be lots of personal questions as his family tried to discern whether or not I was worthy if Logan decided I was The One. It’s exactly what my aunts and uncles did to my past boyfriends.
Oh my god, I bet Logan would have them eating out of the palm of his hand in no time.
“Should I be nervous? Because, don’t worry, I am.” I was dreading facing Susan again.
“Don’t be, there’s nothing to worry about. Worrying is strictly my mom’s territory, she’s got that covered for you. Now, I like Hilary a lot. But her family?” he said, referring to the bride. “They’re fucking crazy.”
He gave me a quick course in family history. The groom, Nick, was two years younger than Logan. Their parents had married young and divorced when Logan was ten, and four years later his mother had remarried. Logan’s half-brother, Garrett, was a junior in high school.
The relationship between Susan and Logan’s dad was cordial, according to Logan. His dad hadn’t remarried, but had a live-in girlfriend.