“Kevin?” He looked up, trying to remember what the only dish he liked was called. “Thank you.”
Standing there in jeans and a faded, well-worn sweater, with her hair messed up and her eyes a little red, she was so beautiful he just looked at her for a long moment. He didn’t want to just be friendly neighbors who happened to be having a baby together. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her until neither of them could breathe.
But he’d back off…for now. “You’re welcome.”
***
During Jasper’s post-dinner crowd lull, Paulie ran up the back stairs to her apartment to grab a yogurt and a few minutes of peace. Serving up burgers and fries night after night could seriously put a dent in a woman’s junk-food cravings and she wasn’t in the mood for anything fried. But she’d barely peeled the top off a tub of key lime goodness when somebody knocked on her door.
She set the container on the counter and answered it, almost choking on her tongue when she saw Sam Logan standing in the hall. “How did you get up here?”
“Came up the stairs, same as you did.”
“Did you miss the sign telling you stay the hell out if you’re not authorized personnel?”
“Saw it. Ignored it.”
“Sounds like you.”
He just shrugged. “You going to invite me in?”
“No.”
“That’s too bad.” She noticed how he subtly turned his body toward her so she couldn’t slam the door in his face. “Guess I’ll go back downstairs, then. Maybe chat with my waitress. Or the bartender. What’s his name? Kevin? Funny how they all seem to think your last name’s Reed. Why is that?”
She’d forgotten what a bastard he could be when he wanted something. “Maybe I got married.”
“Or maybe you just changed your name.”
Which he knew, of course. No doubt he’d had his people run a check on her as soon as he left Jasper’s that first night. Maybe he’d even known before then. “What do you want, Sam?”
“I want to come in.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Wonder how your friends in low places would feel if they found out who you really are?”
It’s not as though she was running from the law or anything. She hadn’t done anything wrong, so she had nothing to fear from them finding out her real last name was Atherton. But she didn’t want them to know. She wasn’t that person anymore. “Fine. Come in and say what you want to say. But make it quick. I need to get back downstairs.”
When he walked in and closed the door behind him, Paulie was almost staggered by the sense of how unreal the situation was. Sam Logan. In her apartment.
“Why are you harassing me?” she demanded when it became clear he was more interesting in looking around than talking. “Is this some kind of payback for not going through with the wedding?”
“You didn’t just leave me standing at the altar, which would have been humiliating enough. No, you had to go and make the whole thing into a damn spectacle. Getting halfway up the aisle before you turned and sprinted out of there like there was a gold medal in the parking lot. God, Paulette.”
Paulie tried to ignore the trigger word, but it was a hot button. Paulette, stop fidgeting. You’re making a spectacle of yourself. “And there you go. If I thought for a second you would have been more hurt than embarrassed, I wouldn’t have run in the first place.”
“So it’s my fault.”
“You didn’t love me, Sam.”
“I asked you to be my wife.” His deep voice was taut with a barely restrained rumble of anger. “Why do you think I did that?”
“Because our families expected it? Because I fit your criteria for Mrs. Samuel Thomas Logan the Fourth?”
His jaw tightened. She knew from experience that was as far as Sam losing his temper would go. Like her, he’d been taught not to make a spectacle of himself before he was even potty-trained. “Is that what you think? You think I’m so weak I’d just let my parents choose my wife from a list of most-likely candidates?”
She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t force the words out. Yes, that’s what she’d thought. And when he got up and started for the door, she should have been relieved. He was leaving and he probably wouldn’t be back, which is what she’d wanted. She thought. But the thought of leaving this still unsettled—unexplained—had her going after him.
“Sam, wait…”
He turned on her so abruptly she almost crashed into him. “If that’s what you thought, why did you even say yes in the first place?”
“I wanted to be Sam’s wife.”
“Yeah, I could tell by the way you sprinted out of the church.”
“I didn’t want to be Mrs. Samuel Logan the Fourth.”
There went that tightening jaw again. “I don’t even know what that means. But I do know you’re way too hung up on my name.”
“Not your name. What it represents.”
“So…what? You wanted to be with me, but you didn’t want anything to do with everything that’s integral to my life.”
That summed it up pretty well. “It’s complicated.”
“Let’s simplify it.”