Sin Bin Page 18

  “Awesome. Not the traffic,” he clarified. “I meant—”

  “I know what you meant.” She smiled.

  There was an answering smile in his voice. “I’m heading out to grab some lunch with the guys and then I’ve got a few errands to run. Maybe I’ll stop by later and help you unload your stuff.”

  It was crazy how quickly her pulse spiked at his casual offer. “If you come over,” she warned, “I’m definitely putting you to work.”

  His deep laugh rumbled over the phone, warming her from head to toe. “See you soon, Jupiter.”

  “Mmkay.” She hung up, smiling harder.

  When she pulled into the driveway of her aunt’s house, her five-year-old cousin burst out the front door yelling excitedly, “Meadow!”

  She grinned and jumped out of her car, throwing her arms wide as the little boy launched himself at her.

  “Hiya, Bear!” She caught him to her, laughing joyously and hugging him tight as he clung to her like a koala. “I’ve missed you so much!”

  “Missed you, too!” Cameron clung a moment longer, then drew back and beamed up at her. “What took you so long to get here?”

  She laughed, tweaking his nose. “I had to drive all the way from Las Vegas. It took me over eleven hours, but I got here as fast as I could.”

  He gave her a wide, gap-toothed grin. He was such an adorable boy. With his butterscotch skin and curly dark hair, people often mistook him for a biracial child. But both of his parents were black.

  “Look at you,” Meadow exclaimed, planting her hands on her hips. “You’re getting so darn big. Before I know it you’ll be taller than me.”

  Cam giggled. “That’s because you’re short.”

  She huffed, feigning affront. “Who’re you calling short?”

  “You!”

  She laughed and hugged him again, kissing the top of his head. “So no kindergarten today, huh?”

  “Nope,” he bragged. “School was closed!”

  “Wow. Less than a week after spring break. Lucky you.”

  As he grinned and scampered away to inspect her cargo trailer, Aunt Rosalie came out of the house and gave her a big hug, rocking her from side to side.

  “Welcome back, baby. Glad you made it safely.” She released Meadow and grinned. “Your dad has been a nervous wreck.”

  “I know,” Meadow said guiltily. “I called him right before I got here, and I checked in periodically during the night. I don’t think he slept a wink.”

  “He didn’t,” her aunt said with a snort. “He called first thing this morning and gave me a stern lecture.”

  “About what?”

  “He made me promise to take good care of you. He says he’s holding me personally responsible if anything happens to you on my watch.” Rosalie grinned. “How do you feel about a midnight curfew?”

  “Seriously? I’m twenty-four years old.”

  “That’s what I told your father. He didn’t care.”

  Meadow shook her head. “I rarely even stayed out late when I lived at home.”

  “Yes, but he’s convinced that your social life is about to do a dramatic one-eighty.” Rosalie looked past her, a smile curling her lips. “And here’s reason number one.”

  Meadow looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Logan’s big black truck pulling up to the curb.

  Butterflies swarmed her stomach.

  “That didn’t take long,” her aunt purred. “I guess Cam wasn’t the only one who couldn’t wait for you to get here.”

  Meadow blushed, watching as Logan lazily climbed out of his truck. She drank him in, branding the sight of him on her brain. He wore a white ribbed shirt, low-slung jeans and dark brown Timbs. His hair seemed to have grown out even more over the past week. It was definitely long enough to thread her fingers through. Not that she would dare.

  Rosalie grinned and waved to him, making no attempt to hide her delight at seeing him. “Well, hello there!”

  “Howdy,” he drawled with that lazy grin that made Meadow’s breath catch. There was a fading bruise on his cheek that only magnified his badassery.

  As he started up the driveway, Cameron’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Logan Brassard?” he breathed in disbelief.

  “What’s up, little man?” Logan crouched down to shake the awestruck boy’s hand. “You must be Cameron.”

  Cam eagerly bobbed his head.

  Logan smiled. “Nice to meet you, Cameron. How old are you?”

  “Five.” Cam flashed that adorable gap-toothed grin. “I lost my tooth last week. See?”

  “Hmm.” Logan made a show of appraising the boy’s mouth. “Very impressive. You look like a hockey player.”

  Cam looked delighted. “Really?”

  “Yup. Have you ever seen Alex Ovechkin’s smile? That’s who yours reminds me of.”

  The smile that lit up Cam’s face warmed the deepest recesses of Meadow’s soul.

  “I’m gonna play hockey just like you and Ovi!” Cam announced excitedly.

  “Yeah? You any good?”

  “I will be if I work hard!”

  “Atta boy. That’s the right attitude.” Logan grinned and tousled the boy’s curls. Then he stretched to his feet, smiling down at Meadow in a way that made her heart turn over.

  “Hey,” he murmured. “You came back.”

  She smiled teasingly. “Did you think I was gonna turn around and go back home?”

  “I hoped you wouldn’t.” His twinkling eyes roamed over her face.

  After more than eleven hours on the road, she knew she must look a hot mess. She probably didn’t smell too great either.

  “What happened to your errands?” she asked him.

  His smile softened. “They can wait.”

  Damn if her toes didn’t curl inside her Vans sneakers.

  Rosalie looked from one to the other and smiled knowingly. “Why don’t we move this little reunion inside before the local paparazzi show up?”

  Meadow grinned wryly. “Good idea.”

  As everyone headed into the house, Cam tugged excitedly on Logan’s arm. “I have your jersey! Can you sign it for me?”

  Logan grinned down at him. “Sure, buddy.”

  “Yay! It’s in my room—come on!”

  Logan didn’t follow him. “Why don’t you bring it out to the living room?” He exchanged a brief look with Rosalie. It was a look that told her no adult male should be left unsupervised with a child he wasn’t related to.

  Rosalie acknowledged the courtesy with a grateful nod and smile.

  Meadow stared at Logan and wondered if, as a foster child, he’d been left alone with an adult who had hurt him. Was that one of the demons he was fighting? The trauma of sexual abuse?

  Her heart twisted at the thought.

  As Cam dashed off to get his hockey jersey, Rosalie offered Logan a cold beer.

  He smiled. “Sounds good. Thank you, ma’am.”

  His courtly manners nearly undid Rosalie. She beamed at him. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be right back.”

  She ushered Meadow into the kitchen, passing her a bottle of water from the fridge before grabbing the beer for Logan.

  Meadow unscrewed the cap on her water bottle and downed half the contents.

  “You must be exhausted,” Rosalie said sympathetically.

  “Totally.” Meadow plopped down on a stool at the center island and stretched her arms above her head, grateful to be off the road.

  “Be right back.” Her aunt left to take the beer to Logan. When she returned, she was grinning from ear to ear. “I hate to tell you this, but I think you’ve been replaced in Cam’s affections.”

  Meadow scowled. “No way. Never.”

  Laughing, Rosalie propped her elbows on the island countertop and leaned forward to grin at Meadow. “There’s something downright irresistible about a man who’s naturally good with kids. It makes him a thousand times hotter.” Her grin spread. “I can tell Logan’s going to make an excellent father someday
.”

  Meadow thought the same thing, but she didn’t want to dwell on it or the way it made her heart feel.

  Rosalie’s hazel eyes twinkled. “Your dad told me that Logan kept you company during your road trip. He says you guys talked through the night.”

  “We did.” Meadow toyed with the water bottle cap, screwing and unscrewing as her aunt watched her closely. “He’s a good friend.”

  “Of course he’s a good ‘friend.’ Why else would he stay up all night with you and then show up here just minutes after you arrived? What other explanation could there possibly be?” Rosalie gave her a meaningful smile.

  Meadow felt her cheeks heat up. She finished her water and then slid off the stool. “I think I’ll go see what the boys are up to.”

  Her aunt laughed and followed her out to the tastefully furnished living room, where Logan and Cameron were battling each other in a rowdy game of NHL Hockey on Xbox. Cam must have brought the gaming console from the basement. Logan was playing himself while Cam used the player he’d created. Sporting his newly autographed jersey, he was giggling maniacally and talking mad trash.

  “Watch me deke on you, Logan. I’m gonna make you— Aw, man!” he groaned protestingly as Logan thwarted his scoring attempt.

  “C’mon, son,” Logan taunted. “You’ve gotta come better than that.”

  Rosalie grinned at them. “I hate to break up this epic duel, but Cameron needs to get ready for his best friend’s birthday party and sleepover.”

  “Do I have to go?” Cam asked without taking his eyes off the game. “I wanna stay here with Logan!”

  “Of course you have to go,” his mother chided. “Jaxon is your best friend. You’ve been looking forward to his laser-tag party for weeks.”

  “I know but…” Cam trailed off sheepishly.

  Logan paused the game and ruffled the boy’s hair. “We’ll hang out some other time. Go have fun with your best bud, and eat lots of birthday cake for me.” He winked. “Especially if it’s chocolate.”

  Cam beamed at him, making his mother laugh as she predicted, “He’s going to brag to everyone that he was playing hockey with Logan Brassard.”

  “Yup!” Cam crowed gleefully. “They’re gonna be so jealous!”

  Everyone laughed as the little boy scampered off to his room to pack his sleepover bag.

  “I’d better finish wrapping Jaxon’s present.” Rosalie clapped her hands together and smiled at Meadow. “The bosses gave me the night off to attend a big charity gala with some of my colleagues. I’ll come back after the birthday party to get dressed, then I’ll be home pretty late.”

  Meadow nodded and glanced at Logan.

  He gave her a lazy smile.

  She plucked at the hem of her sweatshirt, feeling frumpy and unkempt and totally out of her league. “I think I’ll, uh, go hop in the shower.”

  A wicked gleam flickered in Logan’s eyes. He probably would have made a suggestive quip if her aunt hadn’t been standing right there.

  “I’ll bring in your stuff,” he told her.

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that by yourself. I’ll help—”

  “Don’t worry about it. I can handle it.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. Go take a shower and unwind. I got this.”

  “You heard the man. Off you go.” Before she could protest further, Rosalie took her by the shoulders and steered her down the hall to her new bedroom.

  When Meadow turned around, Rosalie put a finger over her lips, silencing whatever she’d been about to say. “The next time a strapping hunk offers to do something manly for you, just smile prettily, bat your eyelashes and say ‘Thank you ever so kindly.’ Then stand back and watch him be your knight in shining sweat.”

  Meadow made a face. “‘Thank you ever so kindly’? Who talks like that?”

  “Smart women who know how to appeal to a man’s sense of chivalry. Don’t ever be afraid to tap into your feminine power. The Good Lord gave it to you for a reason.”

  Meadow rolled her eyes. “What bunk.”

  Rosalie laughed. “I’ll have Logan bring your suitcases to your room so you can change into fresh clothes after your shower. He can put the rest of your stuff in the spare guest room so you can sort everything out at your leisure.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief. “I might hang around a bit longer to, ah, supervise his efforts. If he gets all sweaty and takes off his shirt, I certainly won’t complain.”

  Meadow laughed and shook her head. “You sound like Trish.”

  “Ah, Trish,” her aunt said fondly. “Now that’s the woman my brother should be dating.”

  Meadow sighed. “From your lips to God’s ears.”

  Rosalie winked and went out the door.

  Meadow toed off her sneakers and headed to the bathroom, where she brushed her teeth and took a long hot shower, washing off layers of road-trip grime. She shampooed and conditioned her hair until it was squeaky clean and smelled like herbs and mint.

  After showering and blow-drying her hair, she put on a clean T-shirt and gray leggings and gathered her hair up in a high ponytail.

  By the time she came out of her room, her aunt and Cameron were gone. When she peeked inside the guest room and saw all her belongings, she was shocked to realize that Logan had already finished unloading the trailer.

  Deeply impressed and grateful, she went in search of him to offer her heartfelt thanks.

  He wasn’t in the living room or kitchen. As she neared the open door to the laundry room, she heard water running. Curious, she walked to the doorway and promptly froze at the sight that greeted her.

  Logan was leaning over the utility sink splashing water over his face and bare chest, soapsuds clinging to his dark beard.

  Meadow’s mouth went dry as dust. She knew she should leave and give him his privacy. But she could only stand there gaping, transfixed by the sight of him.

  His massive chest and shoulders were carved with hard muscle beneath smooth olive skin. His washboard abs were a perfect eight-pack that dipped into a sexy V below the waistband of his jeans. The dark denim cupped his firm, mouthwateringly round ass.

  His back muscles rippled as he straightened, eyes closed, and grabbed a towel off the shelf above the sink. Maori-style tribal tattoos ran down his right arm from his shoulder to his fingers. The full sleeve of ink thrilled Meadow, setting off a rush of tingles in the pit of her stomach.

  She watched him dry off with the towel, her knees growing weaker by the second. He was obscenely hot, the embodiment of every hetero woman’s panty-soaking fantasy.

  He turned at that moment. When he saw her standing in the doorway, he lowered the towel from his face and raised one sexy eyebrow.

  She blinked, her brain short-circuiting under the onslaught of all that testosterone and raw masculinity.

  “Your tattoos.” Her voice came out as a dry croak. “I was just, uh, admiring them.”

  He glanced down at his arm and then back to her. His eyes glinted with amusement. “You can come closer, Jupiter. I won’t bite.”

  Too bad I can’t make the same promise!

  She felt dazed as she moved closer to study the intricate detail of the tattoos. The design featured a beautiful mosaic of interlocking shapes and symbols coiled around a tribal sword. The tip of the ancient sword extended down to his hand. Across his knuckles, the word Interemptor was etched in Latin.

  Her eyes flicked up to his. “Interemptor?”

  “Slayer,” he translated.

  “Oh. Wow.” She shivered slightly as she continued admiring the exquisitely patterned sleeve of tattoos. They made him look like the fiercest of warriors, which he backed up every time he stepped onto the ice. She wanted to glide her fingers over his tattooed arm, feel the warm male flesh beneath.

  The intensity of the urge made her back up a step.

  Logan dropped his towel in a large wicker hamper. “Hope you don’t mind. Your aunt told me I could wash up if I needed to.”

  “Why
would I mind? I owe you for…” She lost her train of thought when a single drop of water fell from his damp hair and landed on one broad shoulder. It glistened there for a moment and then slowly trickled down his chest. She eagerly tracked it all the way. When it disappeared beneath the waistband of his jeans, she swallowed hard and licked her lips, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

  Logan was watching her, his eyes glinting. There was no doubt in her mind that he knew just how much he affected her.

  “Thank you so much for, uh, bringing all my stuff inside.” Her voice was husky and more than a little breathless. “I really appreciate it. Seriously, Logan. Thank you.”

  “De nada.” His voice was like melted chocolate, sinful and tempting. If he started adding Spanish to an already dangerous arsenal, she wouldn’t stand a chance of resisting him.

  She cleared her throat, watching as he reached for a clean white shirt on top of the dryer. “Do you always come prepared with a change of clothes?” she teased.

  “Yup. Always.” He gestured to her chest and smirked. “You trying to tell me something?”

  “Huh?” She glanced down at her space-themed T-shirt and let out a shaky laugh when she read the words printed across the front: I Need My Space.

  “It’s just a T-shirt, Logan. But, um, I do appreciate my personal space.”

  “Yeah?” He stepped right up to her, invading the aforementioned personal space.

  She felt her pulse sprinting out of control.

  “How about now?” His voice was soft as velvet, his smile wicked as hellfire. “Still want that personal space?”

  She was almost eye level with his rock-hard pecs. She stared at the delicious slabs of raw muscle that anchored flat male nipples. She wanted to explore his nipples with her lips and her tongue, kissing them slowly, licking and sucking….

  Suddenly they hardened, as if a cold draft had whispered over them.

  She looked up at Logan’s face. His hooded eyes met hers, hot and glittering with unmistakable arousal.

  Her own nipples tightened as sexual energy flared between them. She wondered what she would do if he suddenly pulled her leggings off and lifted her onto the washing machine. She wondered if she would shove his jeans down his hips, spread her legs for him and sink her nails into his round ass. She wondered if he’d be hungry enough to take her rough and raw, holding her thighs wide apart as he pounded into her.