Page 27 of Wilde Secrets

Rowan had always been much better at talking with women than Logan, something that had never really bothered him before. Strange he thought of it now.

Harper climbed into the truck and slid along the seat until she was seated in the middle. There wasn’t much room in Rowan’s old truck. He could afford something better with the money he made selling his sculptures and with the oyster farm, but he refused to get rid of it.

“That’s right.” She offered her hand to shake.

Rowan gripped it and his smile widened. “You didn’t tell me she was such a stunner, little bro.”

Harper flushed and extracted her hand. “Little?”

Logan climbed into the truck next to Harper. The length of his thigh pressed against hers as he shut the door.

Don’t think about it.

There wasn’t much room in the truck, and Logan was not small by any stretch of the imagination. He was thankful the drive into Cape Wilde was short.

“Yeah, Logan’s my little brother.”

Logan snorted. “I’myoungerby two minutes.”

Harper looked at the two men. “You’re twins?”

“Yep,” they said in unison. Logan scowled, and his twin laughed.

Rowan pulled onto the road and headed into town. “I mean, he’s not physically my little brother—” Logan snorted at that quip, “—but he is my younger brother, so…”

“And he likes to rile me up,” Logan grumbled, staring out the window and trying not to notice how good Harper’s leg felt alongside his own.

The slow press and slide of her denim clad leg against his own had his blood surging, and it took all his mental effort to keep himself under control.

It wasn’t a long drive into town, and Rowan managed to get more out of Harper in those ten minutes than Logan had since they’d met. He was scowling and grumpy when they pulled up on the main street. Rowan had barely finished parking before Logan’s booted feet hit the sidewalk.

He heard Rowan tell Harper to not worry about ‘old grumpy’ and growled under his breath.

“Wilde Buns?” Harper laughed as they approached their destination, pausing to take in the brightly colored sign.

He pushed the door open to the cafe owned by Joe and Pierre and watched as she took in the eclectic space.

Despite there not being a matching piece of furniture in the entire place, there was something about the decor that just worked. It was homey and comforting, with white tablecloths and little vases of fresh flowers on the tables. A large Pride flag hung on one wall, opposite a counter where the huge espresso machine sat, flanked by glass display cabinets stuffed full of the wares Wilde Buns was famous for.

Behind the coffee machine stood Joe, who smiled in welcome. The smell of freshly ground beans filled the air, and Logan groaned at the scent.

“Oh! Coffee,” Harper exclaimed, a sound of pleasure escaping her that sent a bolt of heat through Logan.

She was quickly becoming a hazard to his ability to function in public without embarrassing himself. She headed over to the glass display cabinet that formed part of the counter, staring at the variety of cakes and pastries.

“This is amazing!”

Logan’s lips twitched at her enthusiasm and joined her. “You should try one of Pierre’s pastries.”

“What’s good?” She peered closely at the selection.

“Everything!” Rowan laughed from behind them. “You can’t go wrong with any of them.”

“Except the dog biscuits.” Joe smiled. He was a tall, broad man in his mid-thirties with an untidy mop of sun-bleached blond hair, and an apron tied around his waist. He finished pouring heated milk into a cup and placed it on a tray. “Just don’t eat the dog biscuits.”

“Dog biscuits?” Harper straightened and looked toward Logan in question.

“Pierre can’t seem to stick to making food just for humans. He’s decided to make a range of dog treats as well,” Logan explained.

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