Page 65 of Chocolate Cake for Breakfast
‘We did indeed. And the view is jaw-dropping,’ says Logan.
I turn. ‘But you’re not looking at the view.’
‘No.’ He smiles into my eyes. ‘I’m looking at somethingaltogether more beautiful.’
My heart flips over. ‘You mean me?’ I say brazenly.
‘Actually, no. It’s the view of those overflowing bins atthe back of the pizza restaurant,’ he says, pointing beyond me.
‘Well, thanks.’ Laughing, I slap his arm. ‘I love you, too,Logan.’
‘You do?’
I feel a blush spreading up from my neck. ‘No!’ I try toshrug it off with a smile, while thinking,Shit! Why did I say that? Everytime I say that to a guy, it ends in disaster! ‘I was being sarcastic.’
He nods. ‘Right. Of course. Fancy going down to the café forsome cake?’
‘Great!’ Still feeling as if I might have signed ourrelationship’s death warrant with my careless, ‘I love you’, I bolt for thedoor to the steps down, suddenly feeling quite claustrophobic.
But Logan grabs my hand, and when I turn, he’s just gazingat me. The intensity in his blue eyes makes me catch my breath.
‘That’s a shame,’ he says.
‘What’s a shame?’
‘That you were being sarcastic.’
‘Why?’ My heart is beating faster.
He smiles and shrugs. ‘Because... I thinkI’m falling in love with you.’
He looks so vulnerable and my heart soars.
I swallow hard. ‘But... what if I wasn’tbeing sarcastic? What if I fell for you when I first came to work at the hotel?’
He considers this, nodding. ‘What if I fell for you the daywe first came here and you ate that lemon drizzle cake with a look of unbridledecstasy on your face?’
I laugh. ‘It’s my favourite cake. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘Aye, fair.’
‘What if I fell for you when you drove me to meet Kaz at theradio station?’
He smiles and pulls me against him, his eyes dark withdesire. ‘What if I fell for you the moment I met you, Martha Munro?’
I tilt my face up to his and he kisses me slowly and deeply.Then I pull away with a mischievous smile. ‘It’s not a competition, you know.’
‘Why not? I like competitions. That’s something else youneed to know about me. I’ve got a very competitive streak in me.’
‘I’m more competitive than you.’
‘No way.’
‘I definitely am.’
Grinning, he takes my hand and – still squabbling happily –we walk down the tower steps to the café below...
