He spotted Jake at the sink, cleaning up burned eggs from a frying pan.
Logan eyed the blackened mess. “I take it Rebecca didn't cook?”
“Nope. She and Matt left at dawn.”
A punch right to the solar plexus. Impossible to inhale. Yet he must have made a sound.
Jake turned, his brows drawn. “You didn't say good-bye last night?”
“I didn't know she planned to leave so early.” She hadn't told him. Then again, why would she after he'd shut her down so cruelly last night? He'd never meant to leave such ugly words between them. Not that he could change the outcome, but he could have softened the explanation without being dishonest. He could have let her know how much he'd enjoyed her company. What a goat-fuck. “I never figured on sleeping this late.”
Jake turned his attention back to the pan. “Not surprising, considering you haven't slept more than a couple of hours in days. Then you carried her for the better part of three miles. Knowing you, you also spent the night screwing. I'm surprised you didn't fall asleep on top of her instead of on my couch.”
“I did. Next to her. That's why I moved to your couch.” Logan scowled. “I don't usually have trouble staying awake, dammit.” Since the night he'd nearly killed Jake, he'd
never
fallen asleep with anyone in the room.
“I know, bro.” Jake rinsed the pan and set it into the drainer. “I think this was the first woman you've trusted since your divorce.”
* * * * *
“You quit your job. You and your boyfriend broke your lease. And he isn't your boyfriend any longer.” Rebecca's mother paced across the parlor, her stiletto heels clicking on the marble tile.
“That's a pretty fair summary.” Rebecca selected a piece of celery from the china plate on the coffee table, then leaned back on the white love seat.
“You're too young to be going through menopause.”
“No, Mother. I mean, yes, Mother. Too young. I'm just reevaluating what I want out of life.” God, she hated celery. Waiting until her mother had walked in the other direction, Rebecca shoved the stalk into her purse for later disposal.
“Did Matthew break up with you?” Her mother turned, hands on bony hips, and frowned at her daughter. “Undoubtedly because of your weight. Just look at you, Rebecca. You need to go for surgery. After stomach banding, a plastic surgeon can—”
“Mother. I don't want surgery, thank you. And I broke up with Matt, not the reverse.”
“But why?”
“I met someone”—the stab of pain never seemed to lessen—“and I realized Matt and I aren't all that compatible.”
“Oh.” Her mother pursed her lips. “Well. You'll have to bring this new man to dinner so Vincent and I can meet him. Perhaps this Friday?”
“Honestly, Rebecca. You meet him; you lose him. And you don't think your weight has anything to do with it?” Her mother perched on the edge of a chair. “And why are you wearing that kind of blouse? Your breasts are so large that displaying them like that draws attention to them in a very unattractive way.”
“Uh-huh.” They called this a one-two punch, right? First Logan knocks her down, and then Mother grinds her into the dirt. But Mom had a point. Obviously she wasn't attractive enough to keep a guy.
* * * * *
Logan glanced over at his dog. Thor lay at the top of the porch steps, watching the road with big, dark eyes. The person he waited for never appeared. Logan understood. He kept hearing Becca's low laugh, seeing the glint of red hair, reaching for her soft body in the night.
“You two are making me depressed,” Jake said, scowling at the dog, then Logan. “Go get the girl already. If you can talk her into working as a cook, I'll spring for her wages.”
“No can do.” Body aching from the work he'd done to keep from thinking, Logan leaned back in the Adirondack chair. “She's lucky to have escaped without any scars.”
“What did she say about that?”
Logan frowned. “Nothing. I didn't tell her anything.”
Oh, hey, I tend to kill people when I wake up badly
. Right.
Now Jake frowned. “Seems like that might be one of those…ah, shareable facts. Who knows? Maybe she'd be willing to risk it.”
“I'm not,” Logan snapped. Not willing to discuss it, not willing to risk it. His hands fisted every time he thought of what he might have done, especially since she'd actually awoken him from a nightmare. Twice, no less.
It was amazing that he hadn't hit her or tried to… Logan rose to his feet.
“What?” Jake tilted his head.
“She actually managed to wake me up from nightmares twice without me knocking her across the room.”
“Did she now? Huh.”
Logan rubbed his jaw. “How did she do that? You never could.”
Jake thought for a moment. “Your nightmares might be mellowing, or you might trust her.”
“Might be either.
“You know, you don't yell at night anymore,” Jake said, tipping his head back against the chair. “Or sleepwalk either.”
“No, thank God.” Blood and death still reigned in his dreams, but at least he woke up in his own bed. He'd never thought much about it. “The nightmares themselves never seemed to improve,” he said slowly, “but maybe they don't affect me as much.”
“That'd be my guess.”
But could he trust himself not to hurt her? He slammed the hope down. Just because she'd survived him twice didn't mean shit. He shook his head. “No, I don't—”
“Bro,” Jake interrupted. “You didn't kill the little redhead, and she was in bed with you. Hell, I stood all the way across the room and you came after me.”
Logan's eyes narrowed. Dammit, he wanted her, wanted her with him, in his bed, in his arms. But he needed to know he wouldn't hurt her. He eyed his brother. “You feeling brave, bro?”
* * * * *
After forcing himself to watch a war movie, something he normally avoided because they inevitably gave him nightmares, Logan had gone to bed.
A loud slam. “Die!”
Logan jerked upright.
Grinning like a jackass, his brother casually leaned against the door frame. The door still shuddered against the wall.
Logan rubbed his face, feeling the sweat. “
Die
?”
“Seemed like a good word to set you off.” Jake scratched his back on the wood. “Didn't work, though. Night, bro.”
The weeks since Rebecca had returned to San Francisco had been busy. She should have been too busy to think about mountains or vacations…or men who didn't want her. And still at far-too-frequent intervals, a feeling would sweep through her as if she'd forgotten something or left something behind. She'd stop and check. Key in purse, purse on shoulder.
At first, she thought she missed her apartment, but she really didn't. Her job? But resigning had brought her nothing but relief. So she had to face the facts. She missed the mountain and the lodge so much that the memories were like a heavy ball in her stomach. When she cooked, she kept setting tidbits aside for Thor.
And when she thought of Logan—she tried really, really hard not to think of him—she wanted to go back to him so badly, she'd actually had her car keys in her hand a couple of times. At night, she'd roll over, seeking his warmth, needing his arms around her. How she could miss someone she'd known less than a week didn't make any sense. Yet everywhere she went, she listened for his deep voice.
She'd bought five flannel shirts her first week back in San Francisco.
Truly pathetic, Rebecca
. With a sigh of exasperation, Rebecca walked out of her temporary bedroom and into Pepper's living room. She nodded at her tall, slender friend, glanced at the purple couch and shuddered, then dropped into a green cushiony chair. “I'm surprised your eyeballs don't bleed.”
“Just because you look ghastly next to purple doesn't mean everyone does.” Pepper grinned and fluffed her black hair. “Are you all unpacked?”
“All done.”
“Jobless, apartment-less, stuff in storage. You've been busy.” Pepper walked into the tiny apartment kitchen and reappeared with two beers. “So what's next on that itemized list of yours, my artistically anal friend?”
Rebecca swallowed some icy, dark beer. “It's mostly a list of what I don't want, so far. No more meaningless jobs. No more cities.” No more boring sex.
“You sure you weren't doing drugs on that vacation you took?”
Rebecca laughed. “No. Actually I painted.” And had lots and lots of sex. “That's what I plan to do now. I illustrated some children's books in college. I called up those contacts today and it looks like I can do that part-time.” Leaving the rest of the time for painting. And there was a heady satisfaction in bringing a book to life. Even better, seeing a child enjoy it.
Is that a real fairy, Daddy?
“Okay. Check mark on the work.” Pepper tapped her gold-spangled fingernails on her beer with a clinking sound. “Where are you going to live?”
“Well, I can work anywhere as an illustrator.” Rebecca leaned her head back. “But I'm not ready to make a decision on that yet.” She could explore a new state. Go anywhere.
She pressed her lips together. Jake mentioned the men's periodic trips to San Francisco to pick up lodge supplies and have fun. When she'd handed in the key to her apartment, she realized she'd harbored an insane hope that Logan would show up on her doorstep. He'd smile and say she owed him a blowjob. He hadn't. And now she had no doorstep for him to find.
Damn you, Logan
. The ache in her throat made the next swallow of beer difficult. She forced it down.