There was a clattering noise in the kitchen as he exited his room, and the smell of bacon frying. Despite his hungover state, Logan’s stomach gurgled at the enticing aroma. Ravenous, he padded across the floor and found Harriet humming away to herself in his kitchen. She had in earbuds and was completely lost in what she was doing. Standing over the pan, her hips swaying, the light robe she was wearing falling mid-thigh, she cracked eggs and reached for the pepper.
He admired her for a moment. Even just out of bed, she was a sight for sore eyes. Her long honey-blonde hair was piled up on her head, and she was wearing glasses instead of her contacts, but even without makeup, she was as beautiful as a sunrise.
The toast popped out of the toaster next to him, and, as she turned around, he pulled the two pieces out and handed them to her.
Harriet jumped and then laughed. She pulled out the earbuds. “Logan, you are making a habit of sneaking up on me.” She put out her hand and took the toast from him. “You want some?”
“Sure. Oh, is that coffee? God, I need that, too.”
She nodded, and he reached over her to grab a mug from the cupboard. At the same time, Harriet turned again, and he found himself face to face with her. Harriet was pinned between him and the counter, and for a second he had a feeling of déja vu.
Logan stepped back. “Sorry, I was trying to get a mug.”
She blushed and turned and grabbed his favorite one for him. Their fingertips touched when she passed him the mug, and Logan felt a spark of something leap between them. She laughed again and shook the sting from the electric shock out of her hand.
After filling his mug from the coffee pot, he went and sat at the table. The bright sun streamed into his eyes, and he turned his back to it, as he tried to avoid aggravating the headache that was still niggling him.
Harriet brought him a plate of food.
“Thanks.” He dug in.
“Heavy night?” She looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“I think so.” Logan shrugged at her. “Actually, I can’t remember much of it. Jeez, my cousins can drink.”
“You don’t remember getting home?”
“Er, that is definitely a mystery. Oh, wait, I think Darren called me an Uber. Huh, or maybe I took a cab. Honestly, I have no idea.”
She studied him, and for some reason his cheeks grew hot. “Huh, sorry, was I loud when I came in?”
Harriet shook her head. “Not at all. Don’t you remember? I met you outside, since I’d just got back from my MatchMate date.”
“Oh, that was last night?” He scooped up more eggs and gulped them down, and, as they hit his stomach, he began to perk up. “This is good.” He pointed at his plate with his fork. “So, how’d the date go?”
Harriet frowned and continued to stare at him as she sipped on her coffee. Logan grew a little hot under the collar. Did he do something stupid? But for the life of him, he couldn’t recall anything after he left the venue.
Harriet snapped out of whatever had distracted her and smiled. “It was good, very good, actually. So much better than I expected. We had drinks, ate dinner, and went for a stroll. We got on pretty well.”
“That’s good. You gonna see him again?” Maybe it was Logan’s wild imagination, but for a second, as their eyes met, he thought she swept her fingers over her lips, and her eyes seemed to smolder for a second.
But then whatever he thought he saw in her expression was gone, and she looked down at her food. “I-I’m not sure. Last night was fun, but…”
That image from his dream flashed into his head, and for one awful moment, Logan feared it wasn’t a dream. What if last night, when he had got back…
“I need a couple of days to think about it. He seemed interested to see me again, and we talked about next week, but nothing is arranged yet.”
The image vanished, and Logan dismissed his mini freak-out. It was just a dream. Just a weird, alcohol-induced fantasy.
She opened her phone and flicked through her messages. Logan sensed she wasn’t willing to talk anymore about her date. He ate his breakfast with one eye on her while he chewed his food. He couldn’t help but feel a teensy bit satisfied that she wasn’t wholly decided on her date last night. Jeez, some friend he was! He was actually hoping she didn’t like the guy.
“Huh, you still using Tinder?” he asked though Logan knew she was, because he had been messaging with her only yesterday under his L.J. account.
Harriet’s eyes lifted up to him and then back down. “No, not really, but it is kind of addictive checking in.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, and her stare made him uncomfortable. He scratched at the beanie, and pushed it further back on his head.
“What was your dad’s name?”
Logan shrugged. “Logan, same as me, why?”
“Oh, no reason. I was just thinking about him the other day, and couldn’t remember if I ever knew. I think I only ever called him Mr. Jackson. How long has it been now?”
“Seven years.”
Harriet typed something into her phone and across the room on the coffee table, Logan’s phone pinged. They both looked at his phone. “Sounds like you got a notification.”
Logan walked over and picked up his device. His Tinder account notified him there was a new message from Harriet. He powered off the phone. “Just my cousin checking how bad my hangover is.”
Harriet nodded and finished up the last of her food. Picking up her plate, she went to the sink. “I should get going, I have a new client today.”
When she left for work, Logan slumped in a chair, and turned his phone back
