He continued to propel her toward his truck even though she appeared to be dragging her feet. When he opened the door, she paused. “If you’d rather do this another time…”
Logan shook his head. “Get in the truck.” He didn’t make it a request and he didn’t bother to make it sound nice. He’d spent a week waiting for the moment when he’d get her alone again, and he wasn’t wasting the opportunity on misunderstandings.
As always, Lacy responded to his commanding tone, which didn’t help his already painful erection. He’d stopped trying to beat the fucking thing down the second they got out of the restaurant. Now he was wondering how the hell he could walk around to the driver’s side without limping. God help him if anyone in the restaurant was looking his way. It was bound to be obvious what was troubling him.
Logan climbed behind the steering wheel, adjusting his dick before he did himself an injury. Lacy’s eyes twinkled briefly and she opened her mouth—no doubt to give him shit for his condition—before she sobered up again and remained quiet. He hated seeing her upset.
“Don’t.”
She tilted her head, confused. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t think what you’re thinking. I’m not still hung up on Jane.”
“No one would blame you if?—”
“I don’t miss her.”
Lacy didn’t appear to believe him. “Logan?—”
“I don’t miss her, Lacy,” he said more resolutely. “The breakup was long overdue and I think I’d mourned the end of that relationship before it was even over. She and I were wrong for each other. It’s over. I swear.”
“Really?”
He could read the doubt in her tone and he didn’t blame her. Three years was a long time to live with someone. And he hadn’t helped himself by holing up inside his shop for a year after it ended, not bothering to date anyone else.
“She has nothing to do with us.”
Her smile grew. “There’s an us?”
He closed his eyes, wishing she didn’t befuddle him so. She had him talking in circles, saying everything wrong. “For now.”
His response didn’t dim her enthusiasm. “Now works for me.”
His lids opened at the sound of her shifting on the seat. She was wearing a short skirt that she lifted just enough to show him that she wasn’t wearing panties.
Logan had never considered himself the jealous type, but knowing she’d been flitting around that restaurant all day like that had his vision going red. “You worked like that all day?”
She laughed. “Good God, no. My Uncle TJ was in there. How awkward would that be? I took them off and stashed them in my purse just before I came to meet you at the bar.”
She was too adorable for his own good. “I like the idea of you dropping your panties whenever I show up.”
“Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“Can we go now?”
He made no move to start the truck. “In a hurry?”
The dirty girl reached between her thighs and ran her finger along her slit. Logan watched, spellbound, as she raised one very shiny finger to him. “Yes.”
He started the truck, using the five minutes it took for them to get from the restaurant to her front door to control himself. Foolishly, he’d agreed to the no-penetration rule, as if that somehow kept him true to his promise to Evan. He hadn’t just broken the damn vow to his friend; he’d shattered it and was currently dancing barefoot on the shards.
When they arrived at her place, he took a steadying breath and forced himself to calm down. He’d sworn to himself when he loaded up the chaise and left his shop, he wouldn’t touch her tonight. He’d slowly extricate himself from whatever this was.
Lacy was halfway to her front door before he could find the voice to call out, “Forgetting something?”
She looked over her shoulder, finding him standing at the end of his truck bed. “Oh. Yeah. The chaise.”