She looks over her shoulder at the stove. “No. I don’t know how. City-girl problems.” She shrugs.
Shit. “You must have been freezing last night.”
She gives me a sheepish look. “Yeah. I slept in my coat and scarf. I figured you guys were crazy living out here like this.”
“Well, we might be crazy, but we don’t have to sleep in our coats.” I gesture to the woodstove. “May I?”
“Oh my goodness, please do.” She steps aside and ushers me in with a wave of her hand.
I came here to force her to leave after I cussed her out.
Now I’m offering to make her comfortable and warm.
6
* * *
SUMMER
“I have an idea,” I say after following Logan into the small cabin. “What if we just be honest with each other?”
He stops and glances over his shoulder at me. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I’m going to lie to you?”
“No. Definitely not. But I do think that as humans, we have a tendency to gloss over the tough subjects to avoid showing our true emotions.”
His brows lift. “Gloss?” Disdain drips off the word—like he’s suddenly assessing me and wondering if I’m some new-age, voodoo-loving therapist.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “Gloss. To give off a superficially attractive appearance or impression.”
“Right.” Logan scratches at the stubble on his chin, and then nods. “I guess that’s true.”
“So, all I’m saying is, what if we don’t do that with each other?”
“What are you proposing? Total honesty?” He scoffs, although his gaze doesn’t leave mine. As if he’s considering my proposal.
I nod. “Total honesty. Both ways. You be totally honest with me, and I’ll be totally honest with you.”
He turns toward a bin and inspects the wood situation. Without a word, he walks past me and disappears outside.
I suck in a deep breath, silently cursing myself. Have I pushed him too far, too soon?
I’m about to follow him outside, when he reappears carrying a stack of firewood. After dropping the wood into the bin, he turns toward me.
“If honesty’s what you want, I can try. But I can’t promise anything. I’m not a share your feelings kinda guy, and I doubt I ever will be.”
He’s still watching me. Having Logan’s full attention is almost dizzying. He’s intense and electrifying, all rolled into one. He’s also huge and muscular and gorgeous…
“I’ll, uh, go first,” I stammer, trying to be a professional instead of a woman who’s noticing how very attractive this man is.
Get it together, Summer.
I need to show Logan that he can trust me, and one way of showing him that is by sharing my deepest thoughts and secrets. But then I hesitate, because I’m suddenly a little self-conscious about the truth-bomb I’m about to drop on him. It’s been a constant thought I’ve had since I got here. Maybe part of me is desperate to admit this out loud to another human being.
After swallowing hard, I begin. “I’m alone a lot, and it scares me how much I’ve gotten used to that. Seeing your family here and being around them, seeing how much they all rely on one another and generally need one another . . . I’m scared I’ll never have that. And it petrifies me that I’m going to be alone forever with no one or no family to call my own.”
When Logan doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, I grow self-conscious and focus on the floor. “Too much total honesty for you?”
He shakes his head. “No. Not at all. You . . . live alone?”
“Yes. I have a studio apartment. Four hundred fifty square feet, all to myself.”
He curses under his breath, looking surprised. “I’ve stayed in bigger hotel rooms.”
Sighing, I nod. “So have I.”
I don’t need to tell him it’s all I can afford. I’m sure he’s aware that his salary and mine are miles apart, and that Boston is an extremely expensive city to live in.
Chewing on my lip, I hesitate briefly before asking, “What about you?”
“You want total honesty?” His voice carries a touch of uncertainty.
I nod, wondering if I’m eager for his answer because I’m a therapist, or because I’m a human looking for connection with a stranger.
Like me, he hesitates, and I wonder if he’s going to tell me something at all. Or maybe he’ll decide against the whole honesty thing. If he refuses, I’m not sure what comes next.
“I’m glad I wasn’t here,” he says softly, like he’s letting me in on a secret. “When my father died. I’m glad I wasn’t here.”
I glance over at him, disbelief surely written across my features.
“I know that sounds fucking awful, because if I’d been here, I could have spent time with him. Could have had one last visit with him before he was gone. But on the other hand, if I’d been here, I don’t think I would have handled it very well. Watching my mother and brothers fall apart . . . watching him be whisked away in an ambulance without being able to do anything to help him. Is it crazy if I say I’m happy that those aren’t my last memories of my dad?”
I find my voice. “It’s not crazy. And part of me understands that completely.”
He gives me a quick glance to check my reaction. Surely, he can see that I’m sincere. I don’t judge him at all for this admission.
“Your turn.”
“Total honesty?” I ask.
I guess this is our new thing—this little catchphrase before we say something we wouldn’t otherwise admit to a total stranger. Why does this feel so much harder than I thought it would? My heart is beating fast, and my hands feel shaky.
Logan nods to encourage me, giving me a reassuring look, but I’m still uncertain if I should really share what’s lingering on the tip of my tongue. He’s probably going to think I’m a monster.
I take a deep breath, then give him my truth. “I paid someone to deliver my mother’s eulogy.”
“What? Why?” The words leave his lips in a rush, and he stands up straight, forgetting about starting the fire and concentrating entirely on me.
I smile gently. “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to deliver it myself. I was a mess, barely able to function, so I knew there was no way I could stand in front of people and speak. And my mom’s best friend felt the same. There was no one else but us, and I couldn’t stomach the idea that no one would stand up for Mom and talk about the amazing woman she was, about the incredible and selfless life she’d lived.”
Swallowing hard, I gather my composure. It was such a difficult and dark time. I give myself a moment to draw a few steadying breaths as flashbacks slam into me.
“I found this website where you can hire someone for a small fee, and I paid seventy-five dollars to a woman who was well-versed in public speaking.”
Logan lays a hand on my shoulder and gives it a light squeeze. It’s the first time he’s touched me. I’m sure he doesn’t mean it to be anything more than a comforting gesture, but a sudden flash of heat passes between us at his touch.