Page 32 of Wrecked for Love
Logan nodded but didn’t move, instead turning to introduce his companion. “Hey, meet my friend, Elia. He runs a farm at the other end of town, not far from my place.”
Elia’s eyes met mine—once warm like mocha, now darkening into something sharper, like a shot of espresso.Bless my beans!For a moment, I was sure those eyes would break me if I didn’t look away.
So, my landlord is friends with my handsome host from back then. It hadn’t been that long ago, but it felt like years. Standing here in front of him, I had to admit, Buffaloberry Hill wasn’t the only reason I stayed. It was also the pull of The Lazy Moose, a place that had given me refuge for a single night. But more than anything, it was him—the man who had taken me in without hesitation, even after I trespassed and threatened him.
“Hey,” I greeted Elia.
Logan glanced between us, instantly picking up on the tension from Elia’s silence. “Wait—you two know each other?”
Elia answered before I could. “We met at the store. Just exchanged a quick hello.” His attempt at evasion didn’t stop his gaze from lingering on the hem of my T-shirt, where I’d bunched and tied it around my waist, just above the curve of my jeans.
Logan winced, clearly not convinced by the casual explanation. “Right…”
“Gents, if adopting feels like too big of a step, why not grab some dog treats? Homemade, all-natural ingredients,” I suggested, holding up the different-sized packages wrapped in clear plastic. The colorful shapes and ribbons, along with doggie stickers, made them pop. “Barkley and Boomer will love these,” I added, mentioning Logan’s dogs.
“Absolutely,” Logan agreed. “Koda’s going to love them too, El.”
Oh, sweet Koda. “You might want to try the chewable ones,” I suggested, grabbing a different bag on the display table.
Logan’s brows pinched together like he was trying to figure out if I had some secret insight. “That’s actually a good call,considering Koda’s age,” he said, nodding at the treat bag in my hand.
Elia tensed beside him, holding his breath as though bracing for Logan to dig deeper into whatever was going on between us. Before that could happen, he suddenly pulled out his wallet. “I’ll take two of the big chewable bags, thanks,” he said, but his attention faltered, his eyes fixed on the worn leather as if he’d forgotten how cash even worked.
Logan didn’t get a chance to speak before Elia passed me the bills—an extra twenty tucked in—covering both their purchases.
Our hands brushed, and whether it was accidental or not, I wasn’t sure. His skin was rough—the hands of a rancher. But it wasn’t just the texture. It was the feel of him. I missed him more than I’d let myself admit. Before I could stop myself, I created another excuse to touch him.
“Take another,” I said, offering him one more bag. “On the house.”
Elia hesitated, his expression shifting, but this time, he avoided letting our fingers meet again. Then, with a glance at his watch, his demeanor changed. “Sorry, I just realized—I need to get back, Log. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He spun on his heel and walked away without another word.
“Forgive my friend,” Logan said, attempting to smooth over the moment. “He’s got some…let’s call it social anxiety.”
It was a flimsy excuse, and we both knew it.
“So, how’s The Willow?” Logan asked. “Still loving the place?”
“Absolutely,” I replied, grateful for the change in topic. “You should come by sometime. Aren’t you due for a landlord inspection?”
“We’re pretty relaxed here, Claire. As long as The Willow’s still standing, I’m not too worried,” Logan said with a grin. “That being said, I’d love to see what you’ve done with the place afterall your hard work. I’ve been telling my wife about it, actually. You should come by sometime. She makes a killer meatloaf.”
“Sure,” I replied, smiling at the invitation. “I can show you both some photos.”
We walked around the park, chatting and interacting with some of the animals. After a while, Logan stopped by the donation box. “Hey, sorry I’m not adopting anyone today, but I hope this helps.” He slipped some bills inside the box, then winked. “And that covers the contribution from the rude so-and-so who made a runner earlier.”
Yeah, Elia had been rude, all right. But something told me I’d see him again soon. And when I did, maybe I’d finally ask why he was so determined to avoid me.
14
ELIA
I thought I’d forgotten her. I really had. Life slipped back into its usual rhythm, and I convinced myself she was just a blip, a name fading from memory. Not even a dream of that night had surfaced. It was like it had never happened.
But had I really forgotten her? Or had I buried the memory so deep that I convinced myself she didn’t matter? That was the easiest way to cope. Telling myself I would never see her again, preparing myself for that reality, was easier than dealing with the loss of someone I’d once known.
Seeing Claire at the fundraiser threw me more than I cared to admit. I’d been skeptical when Log invited me along, but there she was, working tirelessly to rehome those abandoned animals. It was a side of her I hadn’t expected—and it got to me.
And how had she managed to turn Mr. Gunn, the grumpiest guy in town, into a public relations whiz for the day? I barely knew Gunn, mostly only through old stories from my grandpa’s time, but for Claire to pull that off? I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
