Page 75 of Wilde Secrets

“What do I have to lose?” She joked.

Logan nodded, but didn’t smile and the omission landed somewhere in the middle of her chest. What did she have to lose, anyway?

She’d lost everything already. Hadn’t she?

Logan and Rowan started walking toward Wilde Brews’n’Blues, the sound of laughter and music drifting toward her on the salty breeze.

A few steps ahead, Logan stopped and turned back to look at her. He tucked his thumbs through his belt and waited, one eyebrow cocked in question.

Why did she feel so torn up inside? She knew she was doing the right thing… Didn’t she?

Her eyes met Logan’s and her breath caught.

Harper pushed aside her doubts, pasted a saucy grin on her face, and sashayed toward him.

They made their way into the bar, choosing a table at the back of the room. Harper took her time looking through the selection of songs, even though she knew what she would sing. The flipping kept her hands busy and hid how much they were shaking.

Logan gripped her knee under the table, stilling her jiggling leg.

Oh god. What was she doing? She couldn’t sing in front of all these people.

Logan leaned toward her, his lips brushing her ear. “You don’t have to do this. You have nothing to prove.”

She turned to look at him, their noses so close they brushed. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. The comforting aroma was exactly what she needed.

She didn’t have to do this, but she wanted to. Harper felt like she was on the precipice of a major change. Like she had been climbing slowly to the top of the roller coaster ride and was now looking down at the stomach-dropping ride to come.

She opened her eyes, feeling like she was drowning in his green gaze.

“That’s where you’re wrong, big guy. I need to prove it to myself.”

He grunted and shrugged, pulling back. “Alright. I’ll be here if you need me.”

“Well, aren’t you two all cozy.” Cassie plopped herself down on a spare chair, her brown hair swept up into a messy bun on top of her head, a bright scrunchie holding it in place. A pencil was stuck through the middle of the bun. She still had her navy blue scrub pants on and an oversized bright pink tee shirt with a cartoon cat on the front and the words “stop kitten around” in glittery gold.

Logan passed his sister a glass of wine and she raised her hands as if praying and looked up to the darkening sky.

Harper laughed. “Busy day?”

“You’ve no idea. Let me tell you—” And then she was off, telling a story that had Harper in stitches about a mischievous cavalier King Charles spaniel called Pavarotti that was afraid of its own bark.

As more people began to take turns singing, Harper realized she wasn’t pretending to enjoy herself anymore. She liked these people. She liked this bar. She was actually having a good time.

“Having fun?” Rowan leaned around Logan to talk to her, one arm draped over the back of the empty chair next to him.

“Yeah, I am.” She smiled, not missing the way Logan’s hand twitched where it rested on the table. He grabbed his beer and took a swig.

“You going to sing?”

Logan swallowed, barely managing to cover his mouth before he coughed. Rowan thumped him on the back. Logan groaned.

“Come on, man. Don’t drown on me!”

Logan rolled his eyes and shrugged his brother off, earning him one more thump on the back. Harper smirked.

“You want another drink?” Logan asked.

Harper glanced down at the wine glass in her hand, surprised to find it empty. “Huh. Yeah, thanks. That would be great.”

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