She nodded. “That would be lovely.”
“My next free night isn’t until Tuesday next week. You good with a school night?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll call you in the week, then. Oh, just so you know, my shifts sometimes change, but I really do want to see you again.”
He stepped towards her and put his arms around her waist, tugging her body against his. For the first time in months, Harriet missed being in a man’s arms. He caressed her neck as he kissed her gently. Then grinning at her, he walked backwards down the street, waving to her before he turned the corner.
Sighing with content at how well the date had gone, she hunted through her purse and found her key. Maybe RoryLynn had been right after all, perhaps MatchMate was the perfect place to meet the man of her dreams.
“Who was that?”
Harriet almost leaped out of her skin and she swung around to see Logan swaying behind her. He smelled of liquor, and judging from his eyes, he’d had a skin full. “Jesus, Logan, you scared me half to death.”
Logan teetered forward, and Harriet caught hold of his arm. “You look like you had a fun evening.”
He nodded. “My cousin’s thirtieth.” He pulled out his own key, and after two attempts, he got it in the lock. “Haven’t seen him in a while, forgot how he liked to party.”
Harriet laughed. Logan owned a bar, but he didn’t usually drink much. She guessed it was one of things where the novelty had quickly worn off.
Inside the bar, she stopped in front of the door and felt for the light switch. The room burst into light, and she found Logan in front of her, barring her way.
“Logan?”
He backed her up against the door, and his hands went to either side of her head, pinning her against it. “You didn’t answer my question. Who was the guy?”
Harriet found her heart rate quickening, but it wasn’t through fear. For some reason, Logan’s close proximity to her was having a far different effect on her. “Th-that guy from Match.”
“Huh, you like him?”
She shrugged. “I think so, it has just been one date, so…”
Logan stared down at her, and he placed one of his hands to her face. “Shouldn’t have fucking waited.” He shook his head and stepped a little closer.
Harriet looked up at him confused. “Sorry, what do you mean?”
“I mean, I should have told you when I had the chance. Before you found someone else.”
“Logan, you aren’t making any sense.”
He stared at her, his blue eyes burning into her. Harriet’s body heated, and her stomach was filled with the strangest fluttering. Before she knew what was happening, Logan’s lips covered hers, and his tongue probed, seeking permission to enter her mouth. Harriet gasped at the suddenness, and it slipped inside.
Without a moment of hesitation, Harriet kissed him back. She had no idea where any of this came from, but a desperate need seemed to take over her, and for a few moments at least, it seemed like Logan had that very same need. His hands grabbed her waist, crushing her against him. His teeth nibbled the corners of her mouth before relocating to her neck. She whimpered, and tugged him closer.
But then, as fast as it had happened, it was all over. Logan stepped away, and his eyes locked with hers. “I always knew it would be good between us.” Logan staggered backwards a few steps, then turned and went up the stairs.
It took Harriet a few minutes to pull herself together. Her lips were burning with his kisses, her skin covered in gooseflesh where he’d touched her, and most of all, her stomach was churning over with the heated desire he had fueled inside her.
When she reached the top of the stairs, the door to the apartment was open, and Logan was nowhere to be seen. She went inside, closed the door behind her, and walked past his room. Pausing, she looked at his closed door. Her fingers went to her lips, and traced where his mouth had been. With her head swimming, and her heart doing back flips, she went to her room. When the door clicked into place, she leaned against it, and grinned.
11
Logan
Logan collapsed on his bed, his boots still on. Clumsily, he tugged out his shirt and labored through undoing the buttons. He unbuckled the belt to his jeans and slid it out, letting it fall to the floor with a clunk. After opening the fly, he collapsed back onto the bed, and drifted off into an alcohol-induced sleep.
Six hours later, the early morning sunlight streamed through his open curtains, and he found himself face down on top of his comforter, still fully clothed. Jesus, he’d had way too many shots last night. How the hell did he get home?
Groaning, he sat up and hunted through his bedside drawer for some painkillers. As he emptied two into his hand, he pondered the weird dream he’d been having before he woke. Logan scratched at his stubble. That had definitely been Harriet in his dream. It was pretty tame, as dreams went, just a reoccurring re-run of one passion-fueled kiss. Stupid thing was the details of that kiss were so crystal clear, it almost felt real. He dry swallowed the pills, and as his fingertips touched his lips, he could have sworn there was a ghost of something there.
Did dreams usually manifest in such detail? Logan swore he knew how she tasted… and how soft her lips had been when they met his. What’s more, he was pretty sure he could still hear the soft sighs she had made, and the excitement that surged through him when they turned into a whimper.
Logan got to his feet and wandered into the bathroom. He splashed water on his face, hoping to rouse his sluggishness. When that didn’t work, he peed, washed his hands, and went back into the bedroom. Desperately in need of caffeine, he pulled on jeans, a dark tee,
