Logan growls at Wyatt. “I’m inviting her up for dinner.”
“You cook?” Wyatt’s eyes widen. “Wow. My apologies, Cali. I hope you ate a late snack.”
The elevator doors ding open, and Logan mutters, “That couldn’t come soon enough.”
Wyatt pretends not to have heard him. “Have fun, you two, and if you get bored with the old grump, I’ll be downstairs at the bar.”
The younger brother shuffles out, winks at me, and the doors close.
“I’ll kill him,” Logan grumbles under his breath.
I smile, staring up at Logan. “Why? He was just being friendly.”
“He was trying to get in your pants,” he says, matter of fact, and straightens his shoulders. He tilts his neck to one side, cracking it and releasing quite a bit of tension.
“And that’s a problem, why?” I ask, a faint smile on my lips.
He lowers his head, his gaze locked on me. “If you’re looking for a one-night stand, he’s the guy for it. But don’t expect anything else from him. Ever.”
The elevator reaches the penthouse suite, and the doors open directly to his room. “Are you coming?” he asks, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Unless you prefer to get laid with no strings attached tonight. Wyatt is the man to push all your buttons.”
He seems to do an excellent job of pushing my buttons, though not necessarily the same ones. “You don’t like your brother,” I say.
“I have nothing against Wyatt. Just the fact he doesn’t believe in commitment.”
“And you do?” I glance down at his left hand. It’s absent of a ring, which is good since I’m up in his penthouse suite. “Is there a Mrs. Logan Henderson?”
“No.” He’s quick to answer and shoot down any further conversation on the matter. “That topic is closed for discussion.”
FIVE
Logan
Cali is quite a chatterbox.Worse than Julianna while she was growing up.
I refuse to discuss my divorce with her. It’s none of her business that my ex-wife, Jess, left me for another man.
It was a real blow to my ego, opening the door and witnessing my best friend shacking up with my wife.
Now, he’s my ex-best friend, and she’s my ex-wife.
I don’t know and don’t care whether the two of them are together. Julianna knows not to discuss it with me. She visits her mother once a month, sometimes twice a month, if there’s a holiday or birthday to celebrate.
But Jess is back in New York City, where we lived before moving to Montana. It’s quite a change of pace.
“Make yourself comfortable. You should probably sit.” I gesture to the sofa. I don’t need Cali tripping over her feet again.
And while she’s insisted that she’s doing fine, the doctor cleared her, and there’s nothing to worry about, I get the nagging feeling that she’s hiding something from me.
I intend to get it out of her before the night is over.
Maybe I can help. If she needs to see a specialist and can’t afford it or requires grossly overpriced medication, I can help tip the scale in her favor.
Cali doesn’t listen. Why would I think that she might spend ten seconds following instructions? The girl is a wild spirit, carefree and bubbly.
We are nothing alike.
That’s not to say I don’t admire that innocence, but she’s still young. Twenty-nine is practically a baby when I look back and remember the crazy things I did in my twenties.