“Venting, maybe?” Melanie asked.
“Definitely venting, but there were a few times she wrote something like, I wonder what life would have been like if I hadn’t married him.” His voice grew thick with emotion, and he swallowed hard. “I remembered a life full of love and growth and adventure together. She remembered me being a jerk—hurting her feelings and messing up. I didn’t make her happy, Mel. I tried really hard, but I didn’t make her happy.”
He turned toward her and Melanie looked up at him. Did she know how pretty she looked right now? He lifted his hand and touched her cheek with the back of a finger, and her skin was so soft under his touch that he lingered there.
“I know the feeling...” she whispered. “I didn’t make my husband happy, either. I wasn’t enough.”
“At least you can be angry with him,” Logan said. “He was in the wrong. He was a cheater. Caroline was perfectly faithful. And I can’t be upset with my dead wife, can I?”
A lump rose in his throat. He’d said it like a rhetorical question, but he actually wanted an answer to that one. Did it make him a monster to be angry with Caroline? If she’d told him straight how she felt, then he could have fixed something. But she never told him.
“You’re a good guy, Logan.” She touched his chest through his shirt and lingered there.
“My dad said that. I’m not sure it means anything.”
“Your dad is a lot of things,” she said quietly. “But he was right about that.”
“I meant well,” he softly. “But I’m not the guy I thought I was.”
“Logan—” She met his gaze, but she didn’t finish what she was going to say. He felt his reserve begin to crumble. He’d never said any of this aloud before, and he’d expected to see judgment in her eyes. But it wasn’t there...
He stepped closer, looking at her pink lips—the lips he remembered from all those years ago... The lips that used to fill his mind and his plans back when Mountain Springs had been his whole life. And then, before he could think better of it, he leaned closer and let his mouth brush against hers. He wasn’t sure what he expected—shock, recoil—but her eyes fluttered shut and he leaned closer still, covering her lips with his own. She felt good in his arms—warm, soft, fragrant. She was a relief, an undeserved comfort.
And then she pulled back, her gaze dropping.
“Sorry...” he whispered.
“It’s okay.” She licked her lips and glanced toward the window. There wasn’t any movement from inside, but he knew what she was worried about. They weren’t as private as they felt out here.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” he said, and he felt a wave of embarrassment... They were both vulnerable, and they were old enough to know better than to toy with these kinds of feelings.
“Me neither.” She smiled faintly.
“I guess we still have that spark,” he said softly. “There always was something that drew us together, wasn’t there?”
She looked away, stepped back. Was it something he’d said?
“It might be getting complicated, Logan.”
“I’ll cut it out,” he said. But he didn’t want to cut things off. “I don’t want to mess this up again. I’m perfectly capable of being friends with a woman. I promise.”
“We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?” she whispered.
“It seems so...” He met her gaze, and he was suddenly very grateful for having met her again. He wouldn’t mess this up. “Come for dinner at the lodge tomorrow. It’ll be nice and public. Bring Tilly with you. It’ll probably be good for both of you to get out, change the dynamic a bit.”
“I can’t do dinner,” she said. “I have plans with Angelina. How about lunch?”
“I could do lunch.” He cast her a smile. “I’m not some passionate teenager anymore, Mel. I really can behave myself.”
She laughed and shook her head. “I believe you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
That kiss was the wrong move, but he’d make it up tomorrow. He wasn’t going to be any good at being more than a friend, and he knew it. For the first time in his life he had some confirmation of why—he was Harry Wilde’s son, and it seemed that he fell a little too close to the tree.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MELANIE WATCHED AS Logan’s truck pulled out of the drive. Her lips still felt warm, and she sucked in a slow breath. It had been a very long time since she’d had a first kiss. It was a long time since she’d felt a man’s embrace like that.
It was a long time since she’d been kissed by Logan McTavish, but it was different this time. Was she imagining that? What was it about Logan that he could make her heart ache with just the touch of his lips?
Maybe they were both different now. Older, wiser, a little more battered by life. And his kiss hadn’t been the enthusiastic kiss of youth, but a softer, deeper kiss filled with a longing that held no demand. Maybe that was the part that tugged at her heart—he wasn’t asking anything of her, and yet he wanted to. She could feel it.
“Is he gone?”
Melanie turned to see Tilly sitting up. She leaned forward slowly—nauseous still, it would seem, and Melanie felt her face heat. How much had Tilly seen? Hopefully not that kiss...
“I got you some saltines,” Melanie said, grabbing the box from the counter. “I asked a nurse, and she says they’ll help. Just nibble on a few.”
She pulled out a tube of crackers and brought it to the couch. Tilly took it wordlessly, and helped herself to a cracker.
“I also got you some prenatal vitamins.”
“Ugh. I can’t think about swallowing vitamins,” Tilly said, nibbling a saltine. “I saw you kiss him.”
Melanie blinked at the sudden change of topic,
