Page 6 of Shattered
Right. Logan wanted to adopt. That, I could handle. "No, I can help you." I stooped and pulled a stack of papers from the middle drawer, placing them in front of Logan when I rounded my desk.
"You'll have to fill out these forms and Chase will do a home-check first. But let me take you to the den-"
"No need," Logan interrupted. "If he hasn't found a home yet, I want Dozer."
"Well, alright then." I bent over my desk to retrieve a pen and when I turned back to Logan, I could've sworn he was checking out my butt. Before I could say anything, though, he plucked the pen out of my hand and started scribbling on the papers in front of him.
With his face a mask of concentration, I pretended to busy myself, but instead, I took the time to study him up close. If ever someone could be called moving art, it would be Logan. His colorful skin fascinated me. Intricate designs started at the back of his hand and traveled the length of his corded arm, disappearing beneath the material of his fitted black tee. I knew, from watching him return from his runs, that his back and torso also held more ink.
In my late night fantasies, I'd imagined myself running my fingers over every line then following the same path with my tongue.
"That all you need?" His thick, raspy voice cut through my thoughts as he pushed the papers back toward me.
Giving them a quick once over, I nodded. "Looks good. I'll hand it over to Chase and he'll give you a call."
Just as his brother had done earlier in the day, Logan tapped the desk twice. "Thanks, Sugar. See ya around."
It was only when the bell chimed, signaling his exit, that I slumped back in my seat and sighed. If only things in my life were different.
I needed a distraction.
Logan had been stuck in my head since I'd seen him before lunch. While grabbing items off the shelves, I decided that cooking dinner for Lizzy and Flynn was just the thing to take my mind off of my too-damn-sexy neighbor and sex—or more specifically, sex with said neighbor.
After I'd grabbed all the ingredients I needed for my spaghetti and meatballs, and a few extra necessities, I paid for the goods and hugged the brown paper bag close to my chest as I walked to my car.
I was so focused on where I was going that I didn't notice the stick in my way until it was too late. The lip of my sandal got caught, and I stumbled forward sending my groceries flying through the air with my body following suit.
With outstretched arms and palms facing down, I managed not to hug the concrete with my face. On my hands and knees, I breathed a heavy sigh. I was about to throw my head back and laugh at myself when a pair of black boots came into view.
I had a sinking feeling that I knew who those boots belonged to. Utterly mortified, I slowly let my gaze travel upward over the fit legs covered in denim. My suspicions were confirmed when I found Logan Jackson with an outstretched arm and a grin on his face. First, I slammed into his back on Saturday, and now, two days later, I was one with the ground again.
My eyes flitted between his hand and his face. I genuinely didn't want to touch him because I just knew it'd affect me in some way. But refusing his help would also be rude. With an internal sigh, I slipped my hand into his.
His calloused palm scraped along mine and enveloped my hand in warmth when he closed his fingers. I hadn't expected his grip to be strong but yet gentle at the same time. I made the mistake of looking him in the eyes when he pulled me to my feet. I swear he could see all my secrets. It was a little unsettling.
"Thanks," I muttered. Needing space from this man, I pulled my hand free at once and started picking up my scattered groceries.
"Lemme help." I didn't have time to decline his offer because he was already retrieving some of the fallen items. Luckily the paper bag was still intact, so we could load it up again.
We had picked up most of the stuff when I noticed him frowning at two boxes in his hands. I followed his gaze and almost gasped out loud. In one hand he held my box of tampons and in the other my wax strips.
"You can just toss those in here." Embarrassed out of my mind, I held the bag toward him.
Logan's eyes lifted to mine, his brows still slightly drawn together, and then they set off at a leisurely perusal along the length of my body. All I could do was try to not fidget on the spot.
"Right," the thick rasp of his voice rolled over my skin. Stepping toward me, Logan carefully dropped the two boxes into the bag. "You need help to get that to your car."
"I'll manage."
He gave a slow, contemplative nod, and I quickly added, "Thanks for the help."
"You be careful now."
I gave him a quick smile that probably looked more like constipation than gratitude before I hurried to my old Nissan. Only when I slid in behind the steering wheel did I allow myself to let out a breath. I couldn't have embarrassed myself any more even if I tried.
At least I wouldn't have to worry about avoiding Logan; he'd likely cross the street whenever he saw me coming. Shaking my head at my silliness, I stuck the key in the ignition and turned it.
Nothing.
