Page 44 of The Lost and the Found

“Hmmm,” I said. I had him pegged to be around his mid-thirties. “That’s what I figured. But not because you look old or anything, but because you’re so mature.”

He smiled then, his eyes twinkling playfully. “Mature?”

I felt myself blush, and I didn’t know why. “Never mind.”

His smile widened. “And how old are you? Please tell me you’re not seventeen…”

“Ha-ha,” I said sarcastically. “I’m twenty-three.”

“Still pretty young. Being around you makes me feel like a cradle robber.”

“Oh, gross. Don’t even say that.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Don’t worry. There is nothing child-like about your body or your mind.”

“Glad to know you think so.”

An eleven-year age difference was a lot in my view. Especially since I was still trying to figure out what a man like him was doing with someone like me. He was accomplished and had everything going for him.

He shot me a wink. “Ready to go?”

I buckled myself in and gave him a thumbs up. Logan pulled out of the parking lot, and I watched as my apartment building disappeared from view, wishing it would be the last time I’d ever see the place. Wishful thinking, I knew that. I had to go home eventually.

* * *

Shopping with Loganwas like nothing I had expected. We went downtown, where all the expensive shops were, where I had never been and never had a reason to be, until now.

Logan stormed into one of those stores that didn’t have a price tag on the clothes like a man on a mission. Everywhere I looked there were brand names, and as oblivious as I was to the world, even I recognized those names, which was saying a lot.

A woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties followed us around, helping me pick out a nice dress. She introduced herself as Sarah and was professional—save for the brief moment when I caught her eyeing Logan appreciatively.

She was mature and, I bet, financially secure. A few years older than Logan, she looked like the kind of woman who should be on his arms, not some broke college student.

She all but shoved me into the dressing room and told me to undress while she went off to get me several dresses to try on. All of them fit like a glove, and it wasn’t until my fourth dress that I realized I never gave her my size. She was that good.

I came out so Logan could see what I had on. After all, he knew more about this function than I did. He was sitting on the couch in front of the dressing room, a glass of scotch in hand, while his eyes made a slow perusal down my body. I scowled at him.

“I am not a piece of meat you’re buying. You don’t have to look like you’re checking to see if the quality’s good.”

Sarah made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a gasp. Oh, good, I shocked her with my words.

Logan’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Next dress, Hayden.”

Now it was my turn to gasp. “You don’t think I look pretty in it?” This was all wrong. He was supposed to tell me I left him breathless. That this dress brought out my eyes and all he could think about was tearing it off me.

The bastard laughed instead. “Are you fishing for compliments?”

I flipped him off and turned around.

“Hayden?”

I shouldn’t have stopped, but I did, keeping my back to him. “Yes?” I asked in my most sardonic voice.

“You look beautiful in the dress. But I can’t have you wearing something so revealing in front of other men tonight. I’d end up killing someone.”

I smiled and looked down at the little black dress. And it was that. Little. The neckline was revealing, and even if my chest wasn’t very big, there were built-in cups that pushed my boobs together and made me look like I was sporting at least a D cup.

I didn’t say anything as I walked back into the dressing room to try the next dress.

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