“Logan, Daniel was a mistake. There is someone out there who will love you like you deserve to be loved. You have to be willing to open up to the possibility for that to happen. Maybe it’s Kacen, maybe it’s not. Regardless, you have to put the past and Daniel behind you. Not all men are like him.”
“He’s a fucking rock star, Stacy!”
“And he would be damn lucky to have you as a permanent part of his life. Don’t doubt that, Logan. Don’t let Daniel’s bullshit convince you that you are not worthy of that kind of devotion.”
Hot tears prick the back of my eyes. She knows me so well. I nod, letting her know I hear what she’s saying and take another bite of pizza, which now tastes like cardboard. My appetite has gone. I guess only time will tell how Kacen and I get along. If we can make this working relationship work.
Chapter 12
Kacen
It’s four in the morning before I finally make it to my room to crash. It’s been a long-ass day. I’m exhausted, but instead of falling asleep, my mind wanders to Pai—Logan. Fuck! I cannot believe she’s my new personal assistant. Talk about being a small world. After I got over the shock of seeing her standing in my living room, I wanted to haul her over my shoulder and bring her to my bed. I wanted what she deprived me of in Hawaii, one more chance to be inside of her. I had accepted that the hottest sex of my life was gone, a mere memory, but now she’s here and I have to keep my damn hands off her.
I knew how much she was looking forward to this job. We didn’t talk specifics, but I remember a conversation we had one night while walking on the beach. I could hear the excitement in her voice about the new job she was starting. There was no way I could take that away from her. I’m just going to have to remind my dick on a daily basis until he gets the message that she’s off-limits. I see lots of cold showers and nights with Rosie Palm in my future.
Speaking of Rosie, I slip my hands under the waistband of my boxer briefs and slide them off. Gripping my cock, I begin to stroke my length to the image of Logan burned in my mind. She’s under me and those brown eyes are filled with so much passion. That’s the only image I need; two more swift pumps and I find my release. Dear Lord, please help me find the strength to resist her. I climb out of bed and take a quick shower before setting the alarm and falling into an exhausted sleep.
The annoying beep of my alarm wakes me up. Forcing open one eye, I groan when I see it’s eight-thirty. I’m pissed until I remember why I set my alarm in the first place.
Logan.
She’s supposed to be here at nine. That’s all the motivation I need. Throwing the covers back, I make my way back to the shower to wake my tired ass up. I shouldn’t have stayed up so late with the guys, but I just couldn’t resist. I love writing music. That’s my passion. Really, it’s that way for all of us. None of us are much on the fame. The fortune is nice, but I guess you have to take the good with the bad.
I’ve just cleared the bottom step when the front door opens. Logan walks in wearing another skirt and a sleeveless black top. The material looks sheer from where I’m standing. Her brown hair is pulled up in a ponytail and her lips shimmer with a light pink. She doesn’t cake on makeup, and she doesn’t need to. Logan is one of those girls, who, at first glance, you view her as a Plain Jane. When you take a second look, you see she is anything but plain. That’s how it happened for me. I saw the two of them on the back deck and decided to be neighborly. My momma would put her foot in my ass if she knew I didn’t offer to help. I took a quick glance at both of them, and then a second glance. I couldn’t look away from Logan. She’s totally the girl next door, and that in itself is a breath of fresh air.
I’m used to being around women who wear way too much makeup and not enough clothing. Anything to get noticed. Some of them are hot, beautiful even, if you can look past all the war paint. None of them can hold a candle to Logan. She’s not out to impress anyone. She’s just herself, and I got to be me, just Kacen, during our time in Hawaii. I got to pretend the fame of the band didn’t exist and spent time with the beautiful girl next door who wanted nothing from me but my time.
“Kacen,” Logan says my name, waving her hand in front of my face. “Are you okay?” she asks.
I can hear the concern in her voice, and that turns me on even more. How long has it been since a woman, other than my mother, was actually concerned about me? Years, if ever. We started the band in high school, so even then the female attention we got was because we were in a band. I don’t know if I’ve ever been on the receiving end of genuine affection.
Smiling at her, I say, “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired. The guys and I had a writing session that lasted until the wee hours of the morning.”
A genuine smile crosses her face. “That’s awesome. They told me how excited they were for you to be back so you all could dig into the next album.”
God, this girl! “Yeah, it was nice to jam with them.”
“Okay, well, let me put my stuff in my office and I’ll start some coffee. Cassidy will be here at ten, so I have some time.”
I watch her walk away, her hips and legs looking incredible in that skirt. Hell, who am I kidding? She looks incredible. Every damn inch of her.
Needing a minute to get myself under control, I step out onto the front porch. It’s already a muggy day with the promise of warmer temperatures.
Walking back into the house, the smell of fresh brewed coffee leads me to the kitchen. I find Logan at the counter rolling out dough. “Hey, what’s all this?”
Without looking at me, she continues to roll out the dough. “I thought I would make biscuits and gravy for breakfast.”
“It sounds amazing. You could have just gone out and picked something up.” It sounds odd saying this to her. My gut instinct is to tell her to stop, that it’s not her job to wait on us, but then I’m reminded that it is. It’s going to be a struggle for me to separate Hawaii Logan and Tennessee Logan in my mind.
“Nah, this won’t take long. Besides, the guys said you all only get home-cooked meals when you go home to see your mamas. I enjoy cooking, so it’s a win-win for everyone.”
“Can I help?” I offer, biting back the urge to take over.
“Nope, the coffee is ready, and this”—she points to a cookie sheet full of homemade biscuits—“will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
I make my way to the coffee maker and pour myself a steaming cup. Instead of retreating back to the island or the living room or, hell, anywhere else, I turn and rest my back against the counter, crossing my legs and sip on my coffee. Logan is beside me at the stove, browning sausage.
“So, who taught you to cook?”
A wistful smile crossed her face. “My mom and my gran.”
Her smile makes those brown eyes sparkle. “My mom tried.” I laugh. “I didn’t have much interest. I can grill just about anything, but get me in an actual kitchen and you need to be on high alert.”
A giggle escapes those pink lips and I want to pull her mouth to mine and kiss her. Shit! I’ve got to get a handle on this. She’s my employee. Maybe if I try imagining her as Paige in Hawaii and Logan here in Tennessee it will be enough to separate the two? I take another sip of my coffee, mulling it over.