Thrasher looks at the car. “I’m on the road for six, and I really want it waiting for me at my last show in Nashville. I’ve been writing this new song that goes to the heart of everything I am, and the whole time we’ve been talking, I’ve been picturing driving the car out onstage to debut my new single. You think you could make that happen? I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Press, photo shoot, everything.”
Shit, with that kind of incentive ...
“I can make it happen.”
“Much appreciated, sir. Now, let’s get this beast off my trailer and into your shop.”
Chapter 37
Banner
My phone dings from the counter as I shut my laptop in my makeshift office—aka the kitchen. I reach behind me to grab it, stretching my neck from side to side.
How long have I been sitting here?A glance at the clock tells me it’s been hours. The ache disappears the moment I look down at the screen of my phone and see a text from Logan.
LOGANREALMANBRANTLEY: I’m finally cashing in that rain check. Sorry it took me so long.
He’s telling the truth on that score. Logan has been working his ass off on a new restoration project that he’s crazy excited about, and I’ve been working night and day troubleshooting yet another design issue. Given our intense focus on our respective projects, we’ve reverted to texts as our primary means of conversation for the last seven days.
Maybe other women would be annoyed, but I’ve been too busy to worry about it.
With a smile on my face, I tap out my reply.
BANNER: Don’t apologize. I’ve been busy too. Just tell me when and where.
LOGANREALMANBRANTLEY: My place. 8 p.m. I’ll grill those steaks from your freezer. Work for you?
BANNER: I’ll be there. Can’t wait.
LOGANREALMANBRANTLEY: Good. I miss you, Bruce. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my girl.
A shiver of something I can’t quite name travels down my spine at the wordsmy girl.Even in his texts, Logan isn’t shy about making it clear where he stands.
Nervousness starts to creep in about tonight. Like it’s going to be some big step in the relationship he says we’re in.
I still haven’t gotten around to admitting to myself that I jumped at the chance to come to Gold Haven because I wasn’t ready for this fascination I had with him to be over.Or maybe I just did.
BANNER: I agree.
* * *
I pull up to Logan’s house at eight, thawed steaks from my freezer in a bag on the passenger seat, along with two giant potatoes and a bag of premade salad I picked up. Piggly Wiggly isn’t as treacherous now that I’m a seasoned pro at small-town grocery-store encounters.
When I knock on the front door, there’s a thirty-second delay before Logan pulls it open.
My mouth goes dry. His dark hair is wet, and a water droplet slides from his shoulder over his pec and down the line between his abs until it soaks into the towel at his waist.
That’s not the only thing that’s soaking.
“My eyes are up here.”
When I finally drag my gaze back up to his face, a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth.
“I know. But you’re wet.”
“I am.”
“What a coincidence. So am I.”