Logan hadn’t mentioned it, but maybe he was just being the gentleman he’d been raised to be. And as long as he didn’t see fit to mention it, she didn’t plan on discussing that bit of family humiliation, either.
“I don’t get it,” she said aloud.
He ran his hands through her hair. As always, the light tug on her scalp sent her senses soaring.
“Don’t get why she’d like you?” he asked.
She didn’t want to have this conversation. “I’m a likable person,” she said lightly. “I can just think of more suitable women she should be throwing you together with. I couldn’t name any of them, of course—I don’t run in those circles. But it doesn’t make sense that she’d go to all that effort to matchmake between us.”
“It makes perfect sense to me.” His warm breath tickled her cheek. “We make perfect sense to me.”
Since she’d seen so much of Emma in Logan—his charm, his personality, his determination to do his own thing—Catherine could almost believe Emma, too, found them a perfect match.
His cheek rested against hers. A silly little thing, but just feeling him that close caused an answering need to soar through her. And when he spoke about them as if there were no barriers, no constraints… She wanted so badly to give in to his seductive words and unspoken promises. Without realizing it, she rolled closer, until their bodies aligned once more.
“Your turn, Cat.” His voice was a hoarse command. And she felt him hard against her.
He wanted her. She wanted him. What was stopping them?
“Tell me what’s bothering you,” he said.
Catherine smiled. It wasn’t difficult considering Logan was gazing into her eyes with genuine concern. How could she not have fallen hard?
But she knew what was stopping them, and it was plain old common sense. Hers. Just because she’d fallen didn’t mean she had to let him know it. “Nothing’s bothering me except that I’m starving.”
“I don’t believe you,” he whispered in her ear. “But I’m hungry, too.”
“Good. Then lie back and relax and let me do all the work. I promised, remember?”
“Only if you promise to take a walk with me afterward. I want to walk on the beach with you. And I want you to talk to me.”
“You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Montgomery.”
He grinned. “It’s part of my charm.”
He was charming, all right. But during the time she’d known him, she’d learned a little bit about semantics and wordplay. He said he wanted her to talk to him. She’d agreed.
But it didn’t mean she had to tell him what was in her heart.
Chapter Ten
Logan locked their hands together and led her onto the beach. The sand was still damp from the early morning and felt cold and wet beneath his feet—unlike his body, which was hot and bothered. She’d satisfied his hunger for food, but not for her.
Catherine had whipped up a meal unlike any he’d ever had. He was impressed not only with her talent and ability to make a feast out of the meager offerings in his kitchen but with the pure enjoyment the task gave her. This wasn’t a woman who demanded to be waited on or who expected maid service just because his last name was Montgomery.
“So, tell me about your plans to run for mayor,” Catherine said.
“What makes you think I’d run?”
“I heard you mention something about it when your father picked up the phone last week, and I read it online,” she admitted.
He stopped walking. Catherine kept on going until his resolve and his firm pull on her hand stopped her. She turned back to face him.
“How do you feel about that?” He didn’t mean to hedge, but he needed to know what she was thinking. He studied her but had a difficult time reading her neutral expression. He let the silent moment go on.
The roar of the waves crashed in the background. The light breeze blew her hair around her face and carried with it the scent of saltwater from the ocean. He inhaled deeply. In this spot, he’d found the sense of peace that had eluded him all his life, so buying the house had been the logical thing to do.
When Catherine’s wide green eyes met his gaze, the same feeling enveloped him, and he knew. In this woman, he’d found that same elusive contentment. She, too, brought him peace.
She shrugged. “What you do—whether you run for mayor or not—is none of my business.” But the intense look in her eyes was at odds with her words.
“Let’s get something straight. From this moment on, if it involves me, it involves you. That’s what us means.” He tugged on her hand and drew her against him.
Her full breasts pressed against his bare chest and he let out a groan. Thanks to the ample privacy the beach house afforded, neither one of them was fully dressed. His cutoff shorts were his only concession to clothing, while she wore one of his oxford shirts and the skimpy underwear he’d peeled off her the night before. Taking advantage, he slipped his hands beneath the shirt and laid his palms on the soft skin of her back.
“Us,” she murmured. “I do like the sound of that. You make life sound so simple.”
“That’s because it is. But for the record, I’m not running for office. It isn’t me.”
She smiled. “I happen to think you’d do a great job, but I agree.” Her hand reached up, and she brushed his hair off his forehead.
The simple gesture, sweet in its simplicity, was oddly sensual, too. His body, already on edge, stirred to life.
“The stuffy public image of a politician isn’t you.”
“I’m glad you know me so well. If only my father did, too, we
