Counting Stars (A Donnelley Brother's Novel) (12 page)

“I want to get to know
you because I’m spending a month with you. It would be pretty
pathetic if we returned a month later and still didn’t know a thing
about each other, wouldn’t it?”

“So, you want to get to
know me because of what other people will think if you don’t?” His
tone was dark, but he didn’t look up at me. I had a feeling he was
a little less than impressed by my answer.

“No, Logan. I want to
know you because I want to know you. I don’t have much more of a
reason to give.” My words were spoken on a sigh. But I mean,
really? I’d never met a man so hard to please!

“Alright,” he nodded.
“We’ll get to know each other then, city girl.”

I moved closer to the
fire—and to him. “First order of business, I don’t like being
called city girl. I would appreciate it if you stopped.”

He chuckled, “Second
order of business. City girl stays. I like it.”

I rolled my eyes.
“You’re unbelievable.”

Logan winked and my heart
fluttered. “You have no idea.”

“Supper’s
ready, city girl.” Logan announced as he pulled the fish and the
small grill from over the fire.

Logan had packed more
food than I thought possible in his pack. Tonight, we were eating
fish with quinoa and lentils. He said he’d packed them because they
were healthy, easy to transport, and filling.

He was right.

I watched as Logan
loaded up the metal dishes we’d packed into the bags. Everything we
brought with us fit perfectly inside something else. Everything
utilized the little space we had to the best of its ability.

Reaching out, I grabbed
hold of the dish. “Thanks,”

“No problem.” He settled
himself on the ground beside the fire. “I can do a lot better when
I have an unlimited supply of seasonings.”

I took a bite of the
quinoa. It was bland, but I was hungry so it tasted amazing. “It
couldn’t be better.”

He watched me chow down
my lentils and quinoa. “Try the fish yet?”

“You know I haven’t.” I
answered matter of fact and he chuckled. I liked the way the skin
around his eyes crinkled when he laughed. He was so stern and hard
that it was nice to see him let loose something as personal as
laughter. I didn’t know Logan any better than anyone else he might
have taken on this tour, but I felt confident that he laughed more
around me than normal. And I liked that.

“Why not?” He cocked his
head and I watched him take another bite of his fish. “It’s
delicious.”

I shrugged, pushing the
fish around my plate. “I saw it raw. I suppose that bothers
me.”

“It’s all in your head.”
He answered. One moment he was siting a few feet away from me, and
the next, he was right there beside me. I felt his bare shoulder
brush against mine, and my heart quickened.

“What are you doing?” My
question was breathless.

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” I felt my eyes
do the opposite of what he requested as they widened. “Why?”

“Just do it.” He
commanded, his tone turning gentle. “Close your eyes, Reese.”

“Kay,” Slowly, unsurely,
I closed my eyes.

“Now, open your
mouth.”

I shook my head. “I
don’t know, Logan.”

“Do you think I would
ever do anything to hurt you?”

“I don’t know you.” I
kept my eyes closed despite our conversation.

“You have good
instincts, city girl.” He gave a small sigh. “So, do you think I
would ever do anything to hurt you?”

“No.” I whispered
shakily.

“Then trust me.” He
commanded, adding at my hesitation. “At least until I do something
to prove that I don’t deserve your trust.”

“That’s not very
proactive—to be considering breaking my trust so soon.” The reply
was sarcastic and he laughed. The sound, like every time I had
heard him laugh, was lovely.

After a few seconds of
laughter, he grew quiet and when he spoke, his tone was serious.
“Sometimes you just have to take chances.”

My eyes fluttered open
and my breath caught. “Are you asking me to take a chance on
you?”

“I suppose I am.” He
looked into the flames. “Isn’t that what friends do? They take
chances on each other.”

I couldn’t tear my eyes from his face as I watched him
stare into the fire. There was something haunted in their depths.
Something I hadn’t seen before. Something that he hadn’t
allowed
me to see. There was a pain lurking in the ebony deeps
of his irises and I found myself wanting to know that pain. I
wanted to know it so I could shed light onto its darkness. I wanted
to help him heal almost as badly as I wanted to heal
myself.

“You’re hurting.” I
whispered. He didn’t respond. He didn’t even flinch. There was
nothing in his expression to prove my statement, but I knew
regardless. I felt it in the deep marrow of my bones. Logan had
been hurt—by someone he’d cared deeply for.

I couldn’t help but
wonder who it was? What had happened? Had he lost someone like me?
Is that why Gracie felt so confident in placing me in Logan’s care?
Was it because we were both wounded souls, our barely beating
hearts so desperately fragile? Did she think, that maybe, we would
heal each other? Was something like that even a possibility? Did I
even want it to be a possibility?

Looking down to his left
hand, I noticed, with something that resembled relief, that there
was no ring on his finger. There wasn’t even an indent in the flesh
to indicate that he’d worn the little piece of binding metal.

But the pain in his eyes
was familiar.

Looking at him now, I
felt almost as though I was looking into a mirror. His pain was so
similar to my own—parallel.

Surprising me, Logan’s
deep voice sounded. “Are you going to close your eyes and open your
mouth for me, Reese?”

I didn’t know why he was
pressing this, but I did know that this was my chance to tell him I
trusted him. For some reason, Logan needed this. He needed to know,
to believe, that another human being trusted in him. I couldn’t
help but wonder why. Maybe, Logan wasn’t the one who’d been hurt.
Maybe he was the one who’d done the hurting?

Even as I had the
thought, and shivers claimed my body, I felt myself closing my
eyes. Slowly, I parted my lips. And I waited.

I heard Logan’s intake
of breath when he noticed my compliance. It was sharp. I felt it in
my core. There was warmth and then my every sense was on high
alert. I felt exposed—like a charged electrical wire without a
skin—as I listened to him move.

It was as though I was
running on overdrive. The fabric of his shorts crunched long blades
of grass beneath his weight as he shifted and his knee brushed
against mine. His skin was warm. I hadn’t been touched,
skin-to-skin, by a man, since Derek. Even something so simple as
his knee against mine, his bare shoulder against mine, felt erotic.
I knew it shouldn’t, but it did. It made my heart race and my belly
quiver. In my lap, I clutched my plate tight in twitching
fingertips.

There was a very large
part of me that wanted to open my eyes, jump up, and run away. I
wanted to find a quiet place where the guilt of my thoughts would
eat away at the small pleasure I found in being here, so close to
Logan.

But I didn’t.

I didn’t open my eyes
and I didn’t run away. I remained sitting where I was at Logan’s
mercy. The war hammer that was my heart beat against the cage of my
chest, and I reveled in the almost pain, because it made me feel
alive. It was a reminder that I was still here on earth—this place
of life, senses, and experience. For so long, I had tried to allow
myself to die along with Derek. But now, for the first time since
his death, I didn’t want to.

I didn’t want to
die.

“I’m going to place a
piece of the fish in your mouth, Reese, and I want you to allow
yourself to taste it. Push everything from your mind, but the
taste. Feel. Don’t think.” I concentrated on his voice.

His voice was enough to
send my brain into a nearly catatonic state. I swear, I could
listen to him talk for hours upon hours and never grow bored. In
Logan’s voice, I could lose myself.

Logan placed the fish on
my tongue and I closed my mouth. I kept my eyes closed as I chewed,
allowing the flavors to take over my senses. It was delicious. The
burst of lemon and dill tickled my tongue and even the texture was
okay. It didn’t bother me at all.

Swallowing, I opened my
eyes. My heart sped as I noticed Logan’s eyes on my
face—particularly trained on my mouth. “What did you think?”

“It’s good.” I felt my
neck heat under his close observation. When I spoke, my voice was
shaky. “Thanks.”

“You’re still bothered
by the thought of it, huh?”

I frowned. “No, I’m not.
I actually didn’t think about it at all while eating it.”

He cocked his head.
“Then what’s bothering you?”

I stiffened. “Um,
nothing.”

Logan set his plate
aside. Shifting his body to place his elbows on his raised knees he
clasped a hand around his fist. “If this thing is going to work
between us—this friends thing—you’re going to have to understand
one thing.”

“O-kay?” The word was
slowly drawn out.

“I don’t like liars,
Reese. I actually hate them.” His eyes met mine and I saw
resolution in them. “Don’t lie to me and we’ll get along just
fine.”

“I’m not lying to you,
Logan. I just don’t feel comfortable answering everything you ask
me.”

His cheek twitched. “Do
you have something to hide, Reese?”

I frowned. “What?
No.”

“Then why feel
uncomfortable with answering a question?”

“Do you feel comfortable
answering everything people ask you?” I countered.

“No. But if my friends
or family ask me a question, then I’ll answer them.”

“Really?” I asked. “So,
I can ask you anything?”

“If I can ask you
anything in return, sure.” He shrugged.

I tensed. “I don’t think
this game is a good idea.”

“I didn’t think it was a
game.” Logan stood and I watched him place another log on the fire.
“I thought we were trying to be friends.”

“Friends take time to
get to know each other, Logan.” I stated point-blank. I was feeling
touchy and I didn’t like it. It was as though he’d backed me into a
corner and there was only one way out—through him. I didn’t want to
have to walk through him to get to the freedom I so desperately
sought.

“Alright,” he nodded
diplomatically. “We’ll take our time.”

I narrowed my eyes. “We
will?”

“Yeah,” he moved to sit
beside me again, just this time he wasn’t as close. “What’s your
favorite color?”

“Are we playing twenty
questions?” I asked, smiling.

“Sure.” He looked
triumphant. “That was question number one for you.”

“I don’t think so!” I
protested. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, city
girl.” He grinned. “Favorite color?”

“Purple.” I answered.
There was so much about him that I wanted to know, but I was too
afraid to ask anything too personal. What goes around comes around
and I didn’t want personal questions to come back around to me. I
just didn’t want him to know about Derek. “Have you always wanted
this life?”

“Yes.” Logan answered
immediately. “Ever since I was little, I loved the land. I lived
for exploring.”

“That’s really nice.” I
placed another piece of fish into my mouth.

Logan asked. “What do
you think of my life?”

“I don’t really know if
I understand your question.”

Logan shifted and I knew
this was a loaded question. I had to answer truthfully, but
carefully. I had a feeling this man knew when I was lying. It
wasn’t hard, really. Most people knew when I was lying. I was
utterly terrible.

“I want to know if you
think my life here, doing what I do, is pointless. Do you think I
would be better off in the city?”

“Wow, I think that’s two
questions.” I smiled. “Are you sure you want to use them both?”

He nodded tensely.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”

I offered a reassuring smile before I answered. “I
don’t think your life here is pointless. I think its genius,
actually.” I took in a deep breath and placed my empty plate aside.
“You don’t have to worry about the pressures of society breathing
down your neck at every turn. Out here, you’re living for you. I
honestly never even imagined that life
could
be this
way. I’ve always known the city, but I envy your life here.
I
envy
your life, Logan. It’s peaceful, and
beautiful, and yours.”

When I looked up into
his eyes, they were so bright and intense. My words had lifted a
weight he’d been carrying with him for a long time. There was no
doubt in my mind that this uncertainty of his life was connected to
the darkness in his eyes—I just didn’t know how. But I promised
myself that within the next month, I would find the string
connecting the two and I would find a way to cut it, because Logan
shouldn’t feel in any way uncertain of his life in the wilderness.
He loved his life and so long as he loved it, it was perfect. There
was no doubt in my mind that Logan belonged here. His soul belonged
here. If he were to ever pack up and leave for the city, I had a
dreaded feeling the light in his soul would die. He would be like a
caged animal who’d once roamed wild.