Heat Wave (23 page)

He nods, a placating smile on his lips. “I got out of there. A few days later, Logan brings me aside. Asks me all about Bellamy. Breaks down and says that Juliet has been cheating on him. I’ve never seen him cry, Ronnie. But he did. I’m not saying his marriage with Juliet was full of love and roses. They were an odd couple and they had problems. But I know Logan was at least faithful. Juliet was not. She was still seeing Bellamy the day that she died. She was driving back from his place up on the ridge.”

I’m stunned. I’m stunned but I don’t feel anything at all. I’m just this grey, numb mass, and all the things I should be feeling are bouncing off me, deflected.

Everything had been a lie.

Juliet. Perfect Juliet. She had cheated on her husband and then turned around and made it look like he was the one at fault, not her. And oh my god. I believed it. So did my mother. So did everyone. She made Logan out to be the villain and we were all so blinded by her, we all believed her.

And then the strangest emotion comes crawling to the surface.

Anger.

Not over Juliet. No, I’m too numb to feel anything about her. If she’s a bomb shelter, I’ve taken some of that armor when I swooped overhead as the hurricane.

No. I’m angry at Logan.

“I have to go,” I tell Daniel.

“Oh fuck, please don’t say anything,” he says.

“I won’t,” I tell him, though I know I will probably will. I want to keep Daniel’s trust and I don’t want him in trouble, but this takes precedence.

I storm out of the restaurant and head over to reception, the rain warm and steady, streams of water forming in the parking lot. I fling the doors to the office open. But it’s only Shannon there, the nightshift worker.

“Aloha,” she says in her throaty voice. She always looks like she just broke out of women’s prison.

“Yeah, aloha, where is Logan?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level as I brush a strand of wet hair out of my face. My red cotton dress is already sticking to me from the walk over.

“He told me to come a couple hours early. Overtime. Double overtime cuz it’s a holiday. Like I would say no.”

“Do you know where he went?”

“He said he was going home,” she says.

As I run out of the office I can hear her call, “Happy Thanksgiving!” after me.

I haven’t been inside Logan’s house but I know what the interior looks like, thanks to Juliet’s Facebook photos. It’s a block or two from the hotel, across the road from the beach, and a modest rancher with nice landscaping.

I run down the streets of the small suburban area to the left of the hotel, my flip-flops smacking the wet pavement and echoing down the quiet road. I keep searching the houses as I go past, peering at them in the dark through the rain, until I find Logan’s. In some ways I want to keep running, even though I already feel like a drowned rat. It keeps my mind from dwelling on what happened, it keeps me focused on putting one foot in front of the other. There was too much truth to swallow along with those drinks and I’m keeping all of it on the backburner until I talk to Logan, until I finally hear his side of things.

I open the wooden gate and step into their yard, dimly lit in the darkness. There’s a narrow stone path of lava rock, the short, stiff grass bordering the sides, Logan’s Jeep in the driveway. Plumeria, banana trees, and naupaka bushes line the fence, giving the feel of a tropical oasis. Rain drops hit the thick leaves with a soft
thwack
.

I go up to the door, noticing a worn doormat beneath my feet that has dolphins all over it. Obviously my sister’s, she loved dolphins as a kid. Even the diary she used to have had them all over it.

Daniel can’t be right,
I think to myself, but then I’m making a fist and pounding on the door. Moths fly around, bumping at the light above me.

I won’t stop until he answers.

Eventually he does, flinging the door open. He’s in grey sweatpants, no shirt. That’s a fucking kryptonite combo for me but I manage to ignore it. My anger and confusion override the eye candy.

“What’s wrong?” he says and his eyes are wide with concern. “You’re all wet.”

“You lied to me!” I yell at him, storming past him and into the foyer, not caring that I’m dragging water into his house. “You lied to me.”

He slowly shuts the door behind me and gives me an incredulous look. “You’ll have to bring me up to speed here.”

“You never cheated on Juliet!” I cry out. “She cheated on you!”

He watches me for a few beats, seeming to think. “Who told you that?”

“Why does it matter? Why did you lie to me?”

He chuckles. “Freckles, I never lied to you.”

“It’s not funny!” I tell him, marching over to him and poking my finger into his chest. “It’s not funny at all. You let me believe a lie. You let me believe that you were a monster that ruined my sister before she died. You made me think you were an asshole.”

His brows raise, wrinkling his forehead. “I never made you think anything.”

“You did! You had countless times to correct me, to tell me the truth and yet you kept letting me think it. Why? Why did you do that? Why couldn’t you just tell me? I deserved to know!”

“Let me get this straight…first you hate me and think I’m an asshole because I supposedly cheated on your sister. Then you find out I didn’t cheat on your sister and you still think I’m an asshole?”

I jam my finger into his chest again, my face turning hot as the anger and frustration pour through me. “I hated you so much and you let me!”

He wraps his hand around my finger and yanks it away from him. “That’s all on you, kid. You could have found out the truth if you dared to dig a little deeper, if you questioned who Juliet really was instead of blindly accepting it.”

“I didn’t know the real her!” I cry softly.

“None of us really did,” he says. “I doubt even your mother.” He pauses. “Admit it, you just wanted to hate me. It’s what I said earlier. Why you never bothered to find out the truth.”

I pull away from him, walking across the room, my hands at the sides of my head like I’m keeping it from exploding. “Oh, this fucking shit again.”

“Because you wanted me,” he goes on, his voice carrying across the room. “You wanted me just as I wanted you. From the moment you first came and stood beside me and let me know that you were my equal, that you were on my side.”

That makes me pause in my tracks. “What are you talking about?” I whisper.

“One of the reasons I never told you, or your mother, or anyone in your family the truth about Juliet, the truth of what she did, one of the reasons why I took the blame and let her paint me the villain, was because I already felt guilty.”

Don’t turn around
, I tell myself. He’s walking closer to me, I can feel his heat, the power of him, at my back. It’s like the sun. “Why were you guilty?” I ask carefully.

“Because I should have been with you, Ronnie. It’s always been you.”

My heart vaults inside my chest, bouncing in circles. It’s everything I’ve wanted to hear and yet I’m still afraid to hear it.

“I spent part of my marriage wishing I was married to you instead.”

I shut my eyes, trying to keep the tears back. I can’t help it. Everything I’ve been led to believe has been a lie, a lie told by both sides. Was anything ever real? Was anyone ever going to share the truth with me, or was the truth something else that I didn’t deserve, another thing I was unworthy of?

“Veronica, please,” he says. “I never wanted you to hate me. But it was the only way this could work.”

“Who are you then?” I scream, whirling around. “Who was she?”

And then he’s right in front of me, his massive frame taking up all the space. He grabs my wrists, yanking me toward him. His gaze is all fire. “She was a person, okay? She was just a person.”

“She was my sister!” I cry out, tears starting to burn at the corners of my eyes. “She was everything I tried to be!”

“And in the end she was just as flawed as you are,” he growls, his grip tightening. “She wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t even a nice person half the time. You want the ugly truth or do you want to keep putting her on that pedestal?” He takes a breath, closing his eyes briefly. “Veronica, I know you’re angry that you wasted so much of your life trying to become a lie, but you don’t have to do that anymore. You never did. God, you’re so beautiful just as you, you’re better than you’ll ever think you’ll be.”

Now my heart is competing for space in my chest, swelling and growing. It’s hungry, so fucking hungry for more of his words and only Logan can feed it.

“We…I,” I try to say but the sobs are masking my words.

“I told you how I feel,” he says, voice so low and gruff it makes the hair rise on my arms, my body erupt in goosebumps. “And that still stands. So I’m sorry I’m not the asshole you thought I was. I’m sorry if that makes everything that much harder now.” He licks his lips, his nostrils flaring as he breathes. I get the distinct feeling that he’s trying to control himself, and it’s maddening how much I want him to lose control.

“How can this work?” I ask meekly, my eyes drawn to his lips. “How can we do this?”

“It’s very. Fucking. Simple.”

And then his lips are on mine, crushing and soft. Pure velvet lust that turns sweetly violent.

His hand is at the back of my neck, his other fingers are pressing at my jaw and cheek as his tongue assaults me with such rolling passion I can feel it all the way in my toes. Just like the last two times he kissed me, he’s in complete control and I surrender. I surrender completely. I want him to take me, take me over, devour me, annihilate me. I want every single part of him, deep, deep, deep. I want to see how much of him I can take, how he feels from the inside, what it’s like to be thoroughly fucked by Logan Shephard.

It’s wrong
, the thought snakes into my head.

But it’s fleeting. For once, the guilt is fleeting. I don’t want to listen anymore to what’s right and what’s wrong. Right and wrong have no more bearing on my life, have no value. Everything has been a lie. I just want him. Right here, right now. I want him to let us out of the cage we’d put ourselves in and turn this world upside down.

And Logan does just that. He’s a wild animal, feral to the core as his mouth sinks into the valley between my neck and my shoulder, biting with hunger and lust.

I groan loudly and one of his hands slips low along my hips, hiking up the hem of my dress. Every nerve ending on my body dances with anticipation.

I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t believe we’re doing this.

It can’t be stopped. I can’t be stopped. His hand skirts over my belly, sliding inside my underwear and down, down to where I’m absolutely soaked.

“Christ,” he murmurs against me. “You’re too good to be true.”

He
feels too good to be true. His thick rough finger slides along my clit and my body immediately melts into his hand, needing more, wanting more. I’d never had the need to get off strike me like this before, like a match against the striker. It’s almost a ride or die situation.

I grab hold of the back of his neck, his skin hot to touch, my body greedy for him. His fingers play gently along my clit, teasing like fluttery wings, before the they plunge up inside me.

A gasp escapes my mouth.

“Oh god,” Logan says thickly, bringing his lips back to mine. “You keep making those noises and I won’t last very long.”

“You don’t have to last long,” I tell him, sucking in my breath as his fingers slowly withdraw. “Just fuck the hell out of me.”

I can’t even believe I said that but I’m so fucking crazed that I don’t care.

“A woman after my own heart,” he says before he's lowering his head to my breast, pulling the neckline of my dress to the side until my nipple is exposed and hardening in the air. His lips gently suck at the tip before he draws it into his mouth in one long, hard pull.

My back is arching for more and breathless groans are coaxed out of me. We're still standing in the middle of the living room and I'm not sure how much more I can take like this. I'm getting desperate for him in a way I never thought possible, an aching need that's clawing its way up through my core, turning every part of my body into an addict.

He pinches my nipple between his teeth and, as he does so, plunges his fingers back inside me, three of them this time. I expand around him, needing more. Every inch of my skin is on fire for him and only he can put out the flames.

“Fuck,” he growls as he withdraws his hand, putting his fingers into his mouth. He doesn't break eye contact as he tastes me, licking the side of his finger with his large tongue.

My eyes widen. In all the sex I've had in my life, I've never had anyone do something like that, and now it's Logan, Logan of all people, in front of me and he's breaking down my barriers and bringing me somewhere completely new.

Somewhere that still scares me.

Somewhere I need to be.

“Taste yourself,” he says before his mouth crashes against mine again. I'm salty, musky, slightly sweet as his tongue probes further against mine, whipping up my desire to the boiling point. This is already the hottest thing I've ever experienced.