By the time a third man came to Logan’s defense, Bill was letting loose with a string of muttered curses and shaking his angry head. “That’s it. Adam”—he looked at one of the others—“go grab Ronnie’s things and bring them over here.”
“On it, Boss.” A minute later, the man was back. “Uh…where do you want me to put them?”
Logan’s focus was drawn to tool box in one of his co-worker’s hands…and the wrench that was held loosely in the other.
Bill cursed under his breath, his lined face twisting into a scowl when he spotted the supposedly stolen tool. “I’d say up his ass, but I don’t think they’ll fit.” A frustrated huff. “Just set it all in a pile next to the idiot.” To Logan, he said, “Go on. I’ll keep an eye on him until you leave.”
With a sideways glance, Logan looked down at Ronnie then back up to Bill. “We good?”
“We’refine.” He tilted his head in the downed man’s direction. “But he’s done.”
Message received and accepted.
Ronnie groaned as the first slivers of consciousness reached him.
“Go on,” Bill ordered. “This asshole comes to while you’re still here, he’s liable to wake up swinging. That happens, I’ll be very tempted to let you finish what he was stupid enough to start.”
Logan grinned. No one on the crew liked Ronnie. Not even Bill.
Unfortunately for them all, good, hardworking construction guys were nearly impossible to find. And as annoying as Ronnie was, the guy showed up and did the job.
He was always late, slow as shit, and the man couldn’t go five minutes without bitching about something…but he got the work done. Eventually.
Still, Logan couldn’t bring himself to feel even the tiniest bit bad knowing he’d seen the last of Ronnie Beechman.
The two men shared a look of understanding before he went back to his truck, climbed behind the wheel, and left. He’d covered the first half of the twenty-minute drive home when the theme song from a classic horror flick came to life inside his pocket.
His heart thumped and his gut tightened.
Knowing this was a call he would always,alwaystake, Logan leaned back in his seat and tilted his upper body to the right. With one hand on the wheel, he slid a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled the device free.
“Hey, you.” He kept the wheel steady with one hand while using the other to hold the phone to his ear. “What’s up? No wait, let me guess. The garbage disposal go out on you again?”
A slight pause followed before the sweetest voice he’d ever heard greeted him with, “I don’t know which is worse. That you think I only call when I need something fixed…or that it’s true.”
Logan’s shoulders shook with laughter, and just like that…all thoughts of mouthy assholes and unfounded accusations vanished. Of course, it was always like that when Natalie called.
I hear her voice and poof! Everything else disappears.
Not that she had the slightest clue of the affect she had on him. Not that he’d ever tell her.
The woman is stronger than you give her credit for. She deserves to know the truth.
For the first time in maybe forever, his inner voice was dead fucking wrong.
Not about Natalie being strong. In terms of perseverance and the ability to overcome, Logan knew no one stronger. Himself included.
But Nat was doing so well lately. Probably the best he’d seen her since Hunter’s funeral. The last thing she needed was to hear was that the man claiming to be her friend had lied to her for the past two years.
He was her friend, sure. Her best one, he’d venture to say. And she was his.
So hell no, he wasn’t going to admit to being a fraud. No fucking way. Because that would mean she’d see him for what he was.
A pretender.
He pretended Natalie’s face wasn’t the first one to flash through his mind when he first woke up. Logan pretended she wasn’t his last thought before he fell asleep at night.
He chose to ignore the fact that he secretly lived to see her gorgeous smile. And that Nat’s laugh filled him with so much happiness his heart nearly burst every time he heard it.