Page 75 of Riding the Sugar High

She sprints away, and we’re soon joined by Logan’s father, Darren, who just as warmly welcomes us. Before my hand even leaves his, he’s introducing me to uncles, aunts, cousins, and only god knows who else, because I stop retaining information after the fourth person I’m dragged to.

“You’re okay sharing a chair, yeah?” Lucy asks as she guides me to the table and fits a huge portion of eggplant on a plate. “We’ve had more people turn up than expected, and we’ve run out.”

“Moooom,” Logan drawls.

“What? I can’t make a chair out of thin air, Logan.”

With a resigned gesture, Logan sits and motions at me to come closer.

“No, Logan, I’m?—”

“Say you’re too heavy,” he says as his arm drapes around my waist and he pulls me down, “and I’ll start throwing you around like a juggler.”

Fine, I guess.

I settle on Logan’s legs, and my plate is snagged from my hand as Lucy begins questioning her son about his life while decanting the food they’ve cooked.

Though it’s chaotic and my attention gets snatched by one person or another asking me questions, I feel Logan’s tension. His discomfort. It’s like he feels as though he doesn’t belong. And it’s not his family. It’s him.

I discreetly tap his arm after some distant cousin I’m speaking to excuses himself from the table. “Hey,” I whisper, his eyes meeting mine. “Are you okay, cowboy?”

“I’m fine.” His eyes narrow on my face. “I thought you were mad at me.”

I am, but seeing him this uncomfortable around his family makes my heart squeeze.

I grasp his hand, clenched in a fist over his mouth, and pull it down. “You know, I should take offense.”

“Hmm?”

I keep my voice down and move my lips closer to his ear. “You didn’t tell your mom we’re together. You froze.”

“I told you. It’s stupid.”

“Might be stupid, but it’s our cover.” I tap a finger on my lips. “Maybe you’d feel better if you yee-hawed.”

That gets him to smile, and he settles his hand on my thigh. His thumb brushes over my naked skin, and at first, I figure he’s doing it for our audience, but as he tilts his head and stares deeply into my eyes, I know he’s picturing last night.

“Stop it.”

His head jerks back. “What did I do?”

“You’re picturing it—them.”

His lips morph into a full-blown smile now. “Oh, you bet.”

“Well, quit it.”

“No. With no internet, that’s the closest thing to porn I’ve gotten in five years.”

“Then you better start paying me royalties.”

“Too bad there’s noBe someone’s jerk-off fantasyon your list, because you’d be crossing that item off again, and again, and?—”

When I smack him, he grabs my hand and explodes into laughter. Seeing as that was my initial goal, I settle on his thighs with a content sigh.

“Logan! Prim!” comes from the house, and I turn around to see Josie walking out with a casserole in her hands. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

We both stand, and after exchanging quick hugs, she puts the casserole down on the table and rubs a hand on Logan’s arm. “I made a potato salad for you, Logan. And the corn pie is totally vegan too.”

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