With the hurricane of thoughts whirling around inside his head, he knew sleep wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. So rather than laying awake in bed trying not to think about the woman sleeping right across the hall, he headed for the couch in search of some mind-numbing T.V.
But even as he flipped through the channels, Logan knew there’d never be a time hedidn’tthink about Natalie Garrison. Not because she was his friend or because she was in danger. But because…
She owns me.
7
Natalie threwher covers off with a stifled growl. A quick glance at the clock on the nightstand to her right showed it was just after three in the morning.
And she had yet to get a wink of actual sleep.
She’d dozed off and on a few times since leaving Logan standing in his kitchen. But between picturing some stranger touching all the things in her house—purposelytrashingthe place, sleeping in a bed that wasn’t hers, and the unresolved issues between her and Logan, a peaceful slumber had become virtually impossible.
Don’t forget the whole friend comment. A highlight of the evening, don’t you think?
Nataliedidgrowl then. She also shot to her feet and headed for the door. Sleep was clearly a lost cause, but a midnight…er…three a.m. snack was still a possibility.
She turned the knob to Logan’s spare bedroom door and pulled it open with a whisper. Her heart squeezed when she stared at the closed door across the narrow hall and thought of the man currently sleeping behind it.
A man who’d claimed a piece of her heart she’d thought no longer existed.
One with a set of broad shoulders to cry on and strong arms that gave the perfect comfort. A listener when she needed one, and an offeror of opinions, even when she didn’t ask.
And that’s when it hit her.
Dennis Atkinson may be flawlessly good-looking. He may be ridiculously rich and be the smoothest talker around. But he wasn’t the perfect man. Not for her, anyway.
She’d had that once. With Hunter.
Oh, he wasn’t perfect by any means. No one was. But for a while, there, Natalie had been lucky enough to call him hers. And that had been enough.
But now…
Now she realized her sister was right. Her sister. Hunter’s imaginary ghost-voice. Her heart…
They’d all told her Logan was the one. That he was her forever. And as she stood in his house—in his shirt—she finally,finallyrealized they were right. She’d just been too scared to admit it.
I’m not scared. Not anymore.
The pivotal moment was interrupted by a decidedly unladylike growl of her stomach. Slapping a hand to her mid-section to try to muffle the unattractive sound, Natalie quietly padded her way down the hall toward the kitchen.
As she passed through the living room, Natalie noticed the T.V. mounted above the fireplace had been left on. The current showing was a riveting infomercial about the latest and greatest food dehydration system.
Nothing she’d ever waste her money on, but at least she wasn’t having to maneuver her way around Logan’s house in the dark.
With slow, easy steps, Natalie walked on the hardwood path running between the wall on her right and the large, open living room to her left. She moved quietly past the couch, stopping dead in her tracks when she caught a glimpse of the man sleeping peacefully on its cushions.
Logan.
He wasn’t behind that bedroom door she’d spent far too long staring at. He was right there. Asleep on his couch.
Without. A. Shirt.
Hellooo six-pack.
Natalie studied his bare, sculpted abs again.
Correction. Make that eight.