Logan grabbed them and with almost a triumphant smirk, he was twirling the key ring around his finger before I even realized it. “Let me be the alpha male you think I am and take care of this.”
Even though I laughed, I thought that was probably a good idea. Still, I was anything but a damsel in distress and didn’t want to appear that way. I blinked a few times before conceding. “Thank you.”
That smirk remained as he slid his coffee cup my way. “Here, drink this. I haven’t touched it yet.”
I gave in much too easily as I reached for the cup of black java. “Okay. I’ve already given them all my info.”
The mechanic gestured toward the door and as Logan followed him outside, I watched his swagger. Concern poured through my veins. Sure, he was handsome, charming, maybe a bit brooding in the sexiest way. Still, I’d gone without physical attraction my whole life. Never really wanted to feel it. Only rarely went looking for it. Most of the time I didn’t need it. But the way my body reacted to his terrified me. I couldn’t fight it even if I wanted to.
Not even when I’d met my very first boyfriend right out of college had I experienced such a lustful reaction. Then again, that’s what had made Charlie so right for me. We were both looking for companionship and the sex was secondary. In hindsight, look at how badly that ended. Sadness swept through me as the memory of him seeped from the place I’d stored it long ago.
“Hey love,” he said the first time he laid eyes on me.
His charm got me right away.
He looked like a Charlie. Dark hair, big build, medium height, beautiful eyes. Charlie was a businessman from London with the sexiest English accent I’d ever heard. We were both working for the International Trade Center in Paris when we met. He worked in finance and had been transferred just weeks before I’d arrived. This was my first job after college and I was so nervous. It couldn’t have been more perfect that I’d found him. During the day we both worked. He went to the office while I visited local exporters, purchasing the finest merchandise to sell in the States. At night and on the weekends, we explored the city together. We became best friends and since I’d never had one, I treasured him.
Over the course of my four-month stay, we did what I never thought I would do: fell in love. Unable to stand the idea of not having him to talk to every day, I made Paris my home base. ITC didn’t care where I conducted business, so for the next year, I traveled to international markets, always returning to find Charlie anxiously waiting for me.
When the day came that he began to talk about marriage, I was forced to tell him what I had yet to confess. Charlie did his best to accept that hard truth but in the end, I knew he wouldn’t be able to. As the weeks passed he started to pull away. I even thought about ending things before he eventually would, but I just couldn’t.
He was my first love, my only love. I was young and na?ve, and I mistakenly thought love conquered all.
I learned the hard way that it couldn’t be farther from the truth.
“I wouldn’t bother.” The bartender’s voice brought me back from the darkness of my past.
I swirled around on my stool to face her. “I think you have the wrong idea about us”—I paused to read her name tag—“Molly.”
She dumped both of the cold coffees down the sink in front of her. “I saw the way you were looking at him and I just thought you should know he never gets attached.”
If only she knew that made him all the more perfect.
“I appreciate your warning, but like I said, it’s not what you think.”
A hand touched my back and I felt a spark as Logan leaned forward. “What’s not what you think?”
Feeling oddly shy, I barely glanced at him. “You and me. I was just telling Molly that she had the wrong idea about us.”
He sat down and I felt those hazel eyes zero in on me.
Shedding the shyness that a woman my age had no business feeling, I met his gaze. I must have been crazy, seeing in expression that he hoped she didn’t have the wrong idea about us. I blinked, knowing my interpretation couldn’t have been right.
Logan tapped the bar with his fingers. “Don’t listen to anything Molly has to say. She grew up next door to my grandfather and thinks she knows me.”
Molly hit him with the towel she had slung over her shoulder. “I do. We’ve known each other practically our whole lives.”
He threw her a warning look I didn’t understand and then shrugged. “True, but after I was fifteen, I only visited once a year at Christmas and one month every summer. So you tell me, how well can you know me?”
She frowned; obviously she didn’t agree with him. “Better than most people.”
He tossed her another warning look.
“Molly,” an older man bellowed from a doorway behind the bar.
She rolled her eyes. “Coming, Dad.”
The man lifted his chin. “Logan.”
“Frank,” Logan replied flatly.
“I’ll see you around. I have to get back to my club. My father prefers to be over here,” Molly said with a glimmer in her eye.