Counting On It (Hearts for Ransom Book 1) (23 page)

Emily remembered what his mom had told her about his dad, and how Logan wasn’t anything like him. She believed that. She believed him. “I understand, Logan, but I want you to understand something.”

Oh, no. Emily was mad at him. He just shouldn’t have gone. “What?”

“I’m going to rearrange Mason Wright’s body parts for him. I thought he was my friend, too, and he tried to talk you into cheating on me?” She was nearly yelling.

“Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie to her. Mason had been a skunk.

“Well, consider yourself warned. You might want to give me a wide berth the next time we see him.” She’d show Mason.!

He breathed a sigh of relief. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” She was seeing red, but not because of Logan’s actions. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“So you still love me,” he softly murmured.

“And I still will when Christmas gets here.”

“I’m counting on that, Emily.”

“You can, Logan.” She wished he was with her right then.

“Goodnight, Em.”

“Goodnight, Logan.”

She fell asleep to dream of super gluing a blonde waitress’s assets to her knees, and putting Mason Wright in a full body cast and parading naked women in front of him for hours. It was a good dream.

Emily took one last look in the mirror. Her new jeans fit her well, and the soft blue sweater she was wearing made her eyes sparkle. She had shed a few tears as she was putting on her mom’s diamond stud earrings, but she was determined to have a piece of her parents with her tonight.

It was the hospital’s Thanksgiving dinner. All full-time staff and their guests were invited. The brass hired a caterer, and they had it at the Ransom Ready to Run, a large building with rooms which could be rented for special occasions. Tonight would be a much more informal atmosphere than the fundraiser had been. And she hadn’t felt the need to take any of her medication.

That didn’t mean she wouldn’t attack Logan. This was actually the Saturday before Thanksgiving. It would be Christmas a month from Tuesday. But could she talk Logan into believing her one month early? After all, what were thirty days? Evidently, a significant amount of time to him. She had pulled out the big guns—even a few tears—and he was still making them wait. Well, the laugh was on him because he’d have to be the one explaining why they couldn’t get themselves out of bed long enough to attend any holiday functions.

She was still thinking about that when she opened the door for him a few minutes later. He looked good enough to eat in his jeans that fit like they were made for him, and her favorite shirt—his deep brown, long-sleeved polo. His eyes melted her in her socks.

He wasn’t ready when she jumped up and wrapped her legs around him and began kissing him. It didn’t take him long to catch up, though. In no time at all, he had her backed against a wall, pressed tightly against her, his weight and her legs holding her in place, leaving his hands free to roam. And roam, they did. He pulled her arms above her head and she left them there. Then he lifted her sweater and pulled down her bra so he could feast on her breasts. This was feeling good, but not quite good enough. He pulled her from the wall and started toward her bedroom.

Then it hit him. “Oh no, you don’t.” He placed her gently on her feet, then pulled her bra up and sweater down. “Not ‘til Christmas,” he said firmly.

She groaned with frustration. “I’m going to die from sexual frustration by Christmas.”

Logan chuckled. “Believe me, Em, this isn’t any easier for me than it is you.” He swatted her rear. “But it’s going to be worth it.”

“Logan, it’s been over five months and I still love you. I promise, promise,
promise
you I’m still going to love you in thirty days. I’ll still love you in thirty years.” Her voice softened. “I’ll love you for the rest of my life.”

“You don’t know how much hearing you say that means to me, Emily.” He gave her a lingering kiss. “But we’re still waiting.”

She sighed as she left his arms. “We’ll be together for Christmas.”

He grinned at her. “I’m counting on it.”

She turned to pick up her coat from the chair where she’d left it.

“You look beautiful, you know,” he told her. “Like you always do.” She could be wrapped in a piece of sackcloth, and still be stunning, as far as he was concerned.

He helped her with her coat.

“You’re not too hard on the eyes, either,” she told him, giving him the once-over again. They started out the door. “Has Mason recovered?”

Logan solemnly shook his head. “He swears you’ve broken his heart because you won’t forgive him.”

“Well, he needs to stop having flowers sent to me at work. I’ve just been giving them to patients who don’t get any visitors.” The buffoon had sent her a bouquet every working day since she told him off, which she did quite thoroughly. After calling him every name she could use while remaining a lady, she threatened to encase him in a full body cast and march as many naked women as she could find in front of him.

“He hasn’t been drinking since. I mean, he hasn’t gotten drunk,” Logan offered as he helped her into his car.

Her eyebrows rose. “You’re not making excuses for him?”

Logan slid behind the wheel. “Never,” he assured her. “I just thought you’d want to know. If it means anything to you, I believe he’s really sorry for the way he acted.” Logan snickered. “The fact that he passed out and woke up at a bus stop the next morning didn’t exactly make his day.”

She let out an unladylike snort. “He deserved it.”

He lifted one hand. “No argument from me, Em. I was there.”

She decided to change the subject. “Guess what Butch did?”

“Please don’t tell me he found another picture of Brody for him to autograph.”

Emily giggled. “No. He asks me about him at least once a week, though.” She smiled brightly. “He found himself a girlfriend.”

“Really?” Logan had liked the guy. He had a good sense of humor and obviously liked Emily.

“Yep. Her name is Rhonda.” She was happy for Butch. “She has worked in the gift shop for over a year, and I guess had a crush on him almost as long. She actually asked him out.”

For some reason, that didn’t surprise Logan. “I hope he takes turns asking.”

“They’ve been dating for a couple of weeks now. She only asked him the first time, and he’s asked her ever since. I think they do something together almost every evening.”

“Sounds like they’re moving pretty fast,” Logan observed.

Emily had thought about that. “Kind of like we did.” She gave him a considering look. “I mean, after Mom and Dad…I just knew I loved you.”

“I knew the day Aaron called and told me you needed me. The instant I saw you lying there it hit me.” He hoped he never saw her in that much pain again.

She smiled sadly. “I just remember wanting you. I knew I’d be all right if you were with me. I still don’t know how I knew. I just did.”

Logan reached over and laced his fingers with hers. “I’ll always be sorry it took losing your parents for us to see, but I can’t be sorry we did.”

“See?” she demanded. “You already know that I love you. We shouldn’t have to wait a month.”

“Emily.” They had hashed this over too many times. “Please, just try to understand. I need for us to wait. I need to know for sure before I let you…please, just wait.”

“You know I will because it’s the only way it’s going to happen. You’re really not giving me a choice because there’s no way I’m going to all of a sudden realize I don’t really love you.”

He placed his hand back on the steering wheel. “I’m counting on that, Em.”

It wasn’t long before Logan parked the car in the huge lot of the Ready to Run—no valet services tonight. They walked into the building, and Logan took her coat and checked it for her.

He followed her down the hall, and into what he knew was the largest room there.

“Look. They saved us seats.” Emily pointed to the table where her coworkers sat. Willow waved at them. A pretty brunette, about a third the size of Butch, was sitting beside him. There were two empty chairs.

Logan held Emily’s chair for her, then sat down beside her. Butch was on his other side.

“This is Rhonda Horner,” Butch told him, referring to his date.

“It’s nice to meet you, Rhonda,” Logan said politely.

“You, too,” she responded shyly. A shy woman with Butch? That was hard to imagine, but she had managed to ask him out, after all.

“So, who did they get to cater this evening?” Emily asked Debbie, who was sitting beside her.

“Some new company. I’ve never heard of them. Supposedly, they just cater part-time because they’ve all got other jobs.”

Emily thought that sounded interesting.

“What drinks can I start you off with?” a woman asked from behind Emily.

Logan looked over his shoulder and blanched. What was the matter with him? Emily turned so she could see what he was looking at. The only thing there was their server—and boy, was she something to see. She had the largest set of…Wait a minute… “Is that her?” she hissed to Logan.

Logan nodded. It was the waitress from Trimble’s, and she had the same predatory gleam in her eyes as she had that night. The woman evidently thought she was getting another chance. She hadn’t counted on Emily.

“I’m sorry,” Emily turned and told her. “We’ll be needing a different server.”

The blonde’s eyes left Logan and focused on Emily. “I beg your pardon?”

“I wasn’t stuttering. Our table needs a different server.”

Her eyes flew around the group. Each one of them was looking at the server questioningly. “I don’t understand.”

“Let me explain it, then,” Emily told her. “I don’t want to have to dump my plate on your head because you keep coming on to my boyfriend. It might get a little messy, and I’m actually pretty hungry.”

The other woman looked like she wanted to say something, but after taking another look at Emily’s face, must have changed her mind. “I’ll take care of that,” she told Emily before she turned and walked away. Within a few minutes, a pretty, auburn-haired woman stood there, politely and professionally taking their drink orders.

Logan glanced at their table mates, wondering why nobody questioned Emily about her actions. Then he knew. They worked with her. She hadn’t grown that spine overnight, and he wasn’t the only thing she’d ever felt strongly enough to stand up to other people for.

If he were ever foolish enough to cheat on her, she’d break parts off of him, and
then
she’d break up with him. And since she worked in a hospital, she’d probably do a pretty thorough job. Of course, he’d never in a million years do that. He reached under the table and took her hand in his. She turned hers and laced their fingers together.

“How long have you two known each other?” Rhonda asked.

Logan and Emily looked at each other and smiled.

“We went to school together,” Emily responded.

“From kindergarten until we graduated,” Logan added.

“So you were high school sweethearts. How romantic,” Rhonda sighed.

Emily nearly spit out the drink of iced tea she had just taken.

Logan, nonplussed, answered her. “Not exactly.” He didn’t elaborate. They didn’t need to discuss his many transgressions against the woman he loved.

Rhonda looked at them curiously for a moment before she turned to Butch. “Did you tell them about your pregnant lady, yet?”

Oh, good. A “Butch” story. Logan wondered if it would be a true one this time.

“I got called out on an ambulance run just when I was supposed to get off work yesterday, picking up a pregnant woman in distress from the mall.” Butch’s grin belied the seriousness of his words. “When I finally found her, she was right outside a shoe store. It was her fifth baby, and she was due anytime. Her water had broke, and she felt like she was going to give birth at any moment.”

“Did you have to deliver the baby in the mall?” Emily asked. Butch always seemed to get involved in the most ridiculous situations.

“Just about. We made it to the ambulance.” His grin widened. “We might have made it to the hospital if she hadn’t made me wait until she went back in and paid for the shoes she left by the cash register. They were
on sale
, for goodness’ sake!”

“Butch, if you’re making that up, I’m going to bop you.” Willow was threatening him.

He held up two fingers. “Scout’s honor. I delivered a baby with a bag of new shoes sitting by my feet. She’s still in room 312. You can go ask her. She’d probably be happy to show you those shoes, too.”

Emily shook her head and softly chuckled. “How do you manage to get all of the kooks, Butch?”

“I’ve finally figured that out,” he told her. “You’ve heard of babe magnets, haven’t you?” He looked around the table and waited until they all answered in the affirmative. “Well, I’m a kook magnet.”

They all cracked up, with Troy Simpson laughing so hard he had to wipe his eyes with his napkin.

“If Simpson’s Slammers ever need an announcer, we’re hiring Butch,” Troy told Logan. “Can’t you imagine him giving a play-by-play?”

“I could do that,” Butch changed his voice to that of a radio announcer. “Gaines has just stepped off the bag—wait—the old bag is trying to rip his shirt off!” While everybody was still laughing at that, he went on. “That’s a line drive to first base. Oh, no! Looks like Big Bo Daniels might be singing soprano for a couple of weeks! We’ll have to wait until he stops doing the Hokey Pokey to find out.”

Emily didn’t even know if they hit line drives in fast-pitch softball, but the images Butch had just described had her laughing harder than she could remember. She suddenly thought of her mom and dad. They would like to see her enjoying herself like this. They wouldn’t have wanted her to sit at home and be sad around the holidays, or at any time. Her parents had lived full lives, so they would want their only child to do the same. She resolved right then and there to do just that.

Logan noticed the serious expression cross Emily’s face, but she resumed laughing right away. He wondered if she had any idea just how exquisite she was, sitting there with her hair hanging softly down her back, and her eyes sparkling with laughter. It was all he could do not to pick her up and take her home so he could give her what they both desperately wanted. But he was waiting…for a very special reason. She’d understand. She had to.