On the Friday before Memorial Day, the long, wooded drive down to The Misfit Inn was already lined with vehicles. People were headed toward the house with coolers hauled between them, camp chairs over shoulders, and picnic blankets tucked under arms. Logan could already hear the musicians tuning up out back for the inaugural performance of the season. For something that had been impromptu entertainment last summer during Flynn’s initial stay, Jam Night had become The Place To Be on Friday night in Eden’s Ridge as soon as the evenings turned warm. Local musicians from near and far gathered together for a few hours of improvised music, and the townsfolk and guests made a party of it. Logan had enjoyed the hell out of the ones he’d attended.
But as he made his way down the crushed-gravel drive, unfamiliar nerves skated over his skin, like that time during his sophomore year of high school, when he showed up at Homecoming with Anna Beth Alton in the wake of her dumping the most popular guy in their class. Stupid to feel that mix of excitement and dread, but there it was. The wondering how everybody would react. Because he was with Athena now. Except, he’d promised to roll with the casual, and he had no idea what she’d told her family about them or how he was supposed to treat her in public.
Circling around to the grassy space behind the house and spa, where the stage had been set up—really just strands of cafe lights strung up in rows over the patch of lawn where the musicians had clustered their own chairs—he looked for his woman.
His woman. He liked the sound of that a helluva lot. He wondered if Athena went for a little caveman possessiveness.
Flynn caught his eye and lifted a hand in a wave. Logan jerked his head in acknowledgment, but continued to scan the clusters of people, searching for Athena. Not finding her, he headed into the house.
She was, of course, in the kitchen, her hair put up in one of those messy buns. He wanted to kiss her nape, watch her shiver before taking all that tawny hair down and losing his hands in it. But there were people everywhere, including a huge chunk of her family.
“Now don’t get mad.” Kennedy held up her hands in peace.
Uh oh. Logan quietly shut the door behind him, so as not to interrupt.
Athena glanced his way before turning her attention back to her sister, arms crossed. “You realize that prefacing anything with that statement automatically primes me to do exactly that, right?”
“It’s a good thing,” Kennedy promised.
Athena just narrowed her eyes and waited. Logan edged his way around the kitchen toward her, ready to intervene or mediate should the need arise.
“It’s just that Celeste and I put together a website advertising the cooking school.”
“And?”
“Well, we attached it to the inn’s website and the chamber of commerce. It just went live day before yesterday.”
“Like we talked about. Again, not seeing what it is I’m not supposed to get mad about. Unless you used the video.”
“No, of course not. It’s just—we had the booking system already live, so we could test and make sure it worked right before doing the big advertising push. Athena, the whole series is already sold out.”
Athena’s expression froze. “What do you mean already sold out? How can you even have a series? I haven’t decided what I’m teaching yet.”
“We set it up as to be determined. You said you wanted four weeks, one class a week. We didn’t think it would fill up that fast. But how awesome is that? Less than forty-eight hours and just on your name alone! It’s proof this was a great idea.”
A muscle ticked in her jaw. “And when is this first class allegedly supposed to be?”
Kennedy winced and Logan automatically took a step closer to Athena. “Next week.”
“Next week! How am I supposed to be ready to teach classes next week? I haven’t got a menu, we haven’t figured out the logistics of setting up cooking stations—”
“Actually, we have. We’re borrowing all the hot plates from the home ec class at the high school,” Pru interrupted.
“Hot plates.” Athena breathed the word like a curse and passed a hand over her face.
Her shoulders bunched as she struggled to hold on to her emotions. Logan wondered if anybody else realized it was fear, not temper, that was simmering. Edging into her space, he kept his voice low. “Take a minute and breathe.”
Her eyes snapped to his, and he could see she was drowning, panic and fury warring for dominance. Logan couldn’t stand it. Taking a risk, he tugged her in to comfort and calm. Expecting her to lash out, he was almost as surprised as everybody else when she wrapped her arms around him and snuggled in, pressing her face to his shoulder.
“Next week,” she whimpered, her voice muffled against his chest.
Logan kissed the top of her head. “You’ll do just fine. Come out to the farm tomorrow. We’ll go through the fields, see what’s peaking. Once you know what you have to work with, you’ll be fine. That’s a big part of farm-to-table, right? Rolling with whatever’s fresh.”
She nodded but didn’t look up.
“You can test whatever you want. We’ll get you some guinea pigs,” he promised.
“I’d probably do better with your pigs than the people.”
He tipped her chin up so she had to look at him. “It’ll be fine.”
Holding his gaze, she inhaled a long breath and let it back out. “It’ll be fine.” She didn’t sound convinced.
“It’ll be fine because you are a badass chef. Say it.”
“Seriously?” When he just arched a brow in expectation she sighed. “I am a badass chef.”
“Damn straight.”
He felt some of the tension drain out of her. She popped up to her toes to brush a kiss over his cheek. “Thanks, Farmer Boy.”
When she let him go, everybody was staring, which told Logan everything he needed to know. Athena likely hadn’t filled them in about squat. Well, they’d have to be told something now.
Ignoring them all, as if the subject of the cooking school was closed, she hefted a tray and nodded to Ari. “C’mon. We’ve got apps to serve.”
Not bothering to hide her Cheshire Cat grin, Ari grabbed the second tray of hors d’oeuvres and followed.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Kennedy managed to pick her jaw up off the floor. “Who is that and what did she do with my sister?”
“Dude, you’re, like, the Athena Whisperer. I don’t think I’d have believed it if I hadn’t just seen it,” Xander said.
Logan resisted the urge to shoot him the bird. Barely. “Don’t be a jackass. This whole project stresses her out.”
Pru settled on one of the bar stools and folded both hands over her belly as she studied him. “You’re good for her.”
He’d have felt better if she said it with some kind of a smile rather than that neutral, assessing look that set up an itch between his shoulder blades. Was this what his clients had felt like back in grad school? “Then why don’t you sound entirely happy about that?”
“I’m just worried about what happens down the line.”
He heard the unspoken, “when she leaves.”
He’d thought about that. Of course, he had. But if he’d waited until things were settled, he wouldn’t be a part of the decision to stay or go. He wouldn’t have a shot. At least this way, he’d factor in. Hopefully as a weight on the “stay” side of the scales.
“I’ve just got to be patient and hope things work out. Hope and patience are kinda the watch words of a farmer.”
“Well, I for one am pulling for you,” Kennedy said. “She’s…I don’t know. Softer, somehow, around you.”
“Oh God,” Xander said, “don’t let her hear that.”
Did none of them understand the gooey marshmallow center beneath that prickly exterior? He started to say something, then thought better of it. Athena had been vulnerable with him. She trusted him. If she didn’t feel the same ease with her family, it wasn’t his place to intervene.
“We’ll see.” Logan jerked his head toward the door and music that had started up. “I’m gonna go find a spot to listen.”
Outside, he swung by the drink station and plucked a beer out of the big, iced bucket of drinks. The music was lively, with a bluegrass edge tonight. The lawn was covered with people, some familiar, some not. He’d been in Eden’s Ridge for nearly six years now, and it continued to amaze him that there were new people to meet in a town this small. Then again, everything seemed small compared to his hometown of Memphis.
Skirting the edges of the crowd, he found a tree to prop up and watched Athena circulate, offering appetizers from her tray, exchanging brief moments of conversation with people enjoying her food. She wasn’t as bad with people as she thought she was. When it was the food being judged instead of her, she was in her element. Confident and in control. Logan thought about what she’d told him about her father, about what it was like growing up in the wake of his overdose. Something like that cast a helluva long shadow. Would her professional woes be just as bad?
Lost in thought, he didn’t notice her approach until a hand snaked around his waist from behind and a lithe body pressed itself against his back. “Want to get out of here, away from the crowd?”
Logan’s body stirred. She’d said the same thing last summer at Kennedy’s wedding. He didn’t have to be asked twice. Without a word, he laced his fingers with hers and they melted into the darkness, skirting the perimeter of the property until they found the trail down to Opal Springs.
As they picked their way down the path, the music and voices muted.
“This feels delightfully familiar,” he observed.
“I’ve had an itch to come back here with you,” she admitted. “This was the first real opportunity.”
“I can’t count the number of times I thought about that night. About wanting a repeat. About wanting you.”
“What a difference a year makes, huh?” In the faint trickle of moonlight through the trees, he caught the flash of her smile.
“Why did you pick me last year?” He hadn’t meant to ask it and regretted the words when she stumbled. He reached out to steady her. “You don’t have to answer.”
“No, it’s fine. It’s a reasonable question.” She took her time, waiting until they’d made it to the water’s edge to answer. Because she needed that long to gather her thoughts? Or because the springs felt like the place for secrets and whispers?
“I liked you. We have chemistry. And, honestly, I wanted a distraction. Kennedy’s wedding was…hard. I’m happy for her and Xander both, thrilled they finally sorted out their crap. But the whole thing just felt a little hollow for me because Mom wasn’t there to see it. I needed something to chase away the bittersweet. You more than fit the bill.”
“I enjoyed the hell out of being your distraction.”
He’d hoped his sincerity would make her smile. But her expression was sober as she turned to face him. “It started out that way this time, too. I was hurting and I wanted to forget for a while. I came back to you. And that was an asshole thing to do.”
“Athena—”
“No, listen. I’ve been thinking about this, and I need to get it out. I came back to you for selfish reasons. I thought I could be okay with that, with doing the whole casual sex thing, whenever, wherever we wanted.”
A tendril of panic slithered through Logan’s system. Had she brought him all the way down here to break things off? “What are you saying?”
“That even though that’s where we started, with the casual, it’s more than that. You’re more than a distraction. I need you to know that. To know that I’m not…using you. You were right when you said there’s something here.”
Relief had his knees going loose, all the ready fight draining out of him. She wasn’t going to make him fight to convince her. Instead she’d given him a gift, acknowledging the weight of what was between them. It was more than he’d dared hope for yet. Maybe that meant things were already swinging in his favor. Maybe he already had more weight on the stay side of the scales than he’d thought. That uncharacteristic impatience reared up, urging him to talk, to share, to plan for the possible future that felt just out of reach. But he held it in because he understood this was as much as she could handle right now.
He stroked a thumb down the parallel lines between her brows. “That worries you.”
“I don’t know what to do with this. With you.”
“There’s time to figure it out.” He’d done everything he could to make sure there was. Wanting to lighten the mood, give her some of that distraction she craved, he pulled her in. “And I’ve got a few ideas about how we can use it.”
Lowering his head, he captured her smile with a kiss.
Athena didn’t know what she’d expected, stepping into the diner kitchen for the first time in nearly a decade. She felt like an entirely different woman from the girl who’d worked here. But the diner had changed little. The same ancient grill and commercial range had been scrubbed to gleaming, and the worn tile floors still showed the tracks of years of the dance between counter and range and walk-in cooler. A faint scent of grease lingered beneath the sharp bite of lemon cleaner. It smelled like home. In high school, this had been one of her sanctuaries. At Crystal’s elbow, she’d honed her natural culinary skills sharp enough to land her a spot in her first high-end kitchen in London. From there she’d cooked her way across Europe until she earned her way into Chef Ossani’s kitchen—her gateway to Le Cordon Bleu. After high school, she’d left here for Europe, full of hopes and dreams and drive, so relieved to be escaping this small town, where she’d felt judged. She’d gone to prove herself. And she had. But after everything that had happened, this return felt more like disgrace than triumph.
The door to the dining room opened. Crystal swung through it, leading with her generous hips. “You’re here!” The older woman beamed at her, wiping hands on the towel tucked into her apron.
“I am.” Athena wondered if Crystal could hear the nerves. “Thank you for letting us host the cooking school here.”
“I’m just pleased as punch to have you back in my kitchen. I knew you were destined for big things, and here you are, a famous chef, sharing your knowledge with us common folk. I’m just so proud of you!” Crystal bustled across the kitchen to envelop Athena in a coffee-scented hug that she didn’t know what to do with.
Athena’s throat went thick. Crystal had been another sort-of mother to her growing up. And maybe she hadn’t really realized that until right this second, when she was missing Joan so damned much it hurt. So she resisted her first urge to put distance between them to regain control of her emotions and opted for the truth.
“I don’t know if I ever said it back then, so I’m saying it now. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to work here, for being there for me growing up. You were a big part of my success. In giving me my foundation.”
“Oh!” She gave a mighty sniff and squeezed Athena again. “I always considered you one of mine.”
Had Athena realized that as a teenager? She’d been so wound up about feeling like an outsider, sometimes even with her sisters, she’d lived life with shields up all the time. That had been standard operating procedure since…well, always. What else had she missed because she was too busy protecting herself?
Eyes prickling, she awkwardly wrapped her arms around Crystal.
The bell above the diner’s front door jingled.
“That’s probably my first students.”
Crystal patted her back and released her. “You go on out there and greet people.”
People. Yay.
But Athena wiped damp palms against her pants and pushed through the door as ordered.
It wasn’t students. Not yet. It was Logan balancing two huge boxes of produce from the farm. Athena’s mood lifted at the sight of him. Ari trailed in his wake with one more box.
“Hey gorgeous. You ready for this?” He looked calm and steady and unflappable as usual. Did he have any idea how appealing that was?
Behind him, Ari beamed, her little cupid heart clearly fluttering on overdrive.
Athena couldn’t handle that on top of everything else, so she firmly turned away from her niece to focus on Logan’s question. “Not even close. But we’re here, so I’ll muddle through.”
He set the boxes on one of the tables that had been rearranged to make two long rows of work stations and slid a hand around her waist. “You’re going to be brilliant.”
The lingering kiss he laid on her did a lot more to settle her nerves than his words.
“I’m just gonna go help Crystal in the kitchen,” Ari sang.
“Take your time,” Logan murmured.
Athena hooked her fingers through his belt loops. “Are we sure we have to do this? I can think of way more rewarding ways to spend our afternoon.”
“You won’t seduce me out of this. But I’ll happily seduce you after.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart. By the time this is through, you’ll have earned a very thorough reward.”
The fresh hum in her blood muted the anxiety a little. She’d been finding out exactly how thorough Logan could be.
“I’m holding you to that.”
He grinned, slow and wicked. “Yes, Chef.”
In all her years cooking, Athena had never imagined seducing anyone in her kitchen. After walking in on Mari and Jayson, she hadn’t imagined she ever would. But looking up at Logan Maxwell, with his farm-made good looks and sexy smile, she thought she might change her mind. It might be extremely gratifying to give him orders and have him jump to do her bidding…
“Are you ready to finish setting up the stations?”
Flushing, Athena stepped back and didn’t quite meet Crystal’s gaze. “Yeah, we should put out ingredients.”
As she, Logan, and Ari split up the contents of the boxes among the various stations, Crystal began divvying up utensils, cutting boards, and bowls. People arrived in a trickle. She recognized a few familiar faces. Abbey Whittaker, one of Pru’s best friends, who worked at the spa. Cayla Black, Kennedy’s wedding planner. Essie Vaughn, Xander’s dispatcher and office admin at the Sheriff’s Department. Kennedy’s boss, Denver Hershal, who owned Elvira’s Tavern, and his girlfriend Misty something-or-other. There were other locals, whose names she didn’t remember, and several other people she didn’t recognize. Excited chatter filled the spaces. Athena couldn’t help but wonder whether the students were really here for the food or to get a gander at her, the failed chef. Which one of them would ask her about the video or want to talk about the lost star?
Anxiety settled heavy in her gut, like a gravy spoiled by too much starch. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea.
Logan pressed a hand to the small of her back and leaned in to whisper, “You just have to get through the first one right this second.”
Right. And if she kept them busy, maybe no one would have time to ask her awkward questions.
Straightening her shoulders, Athena reminded herself that, for the next few hours at least, this was her kitchen. Her kingdom. She called the shots.
Clapping her hands, she stepped away from Logan. “Welcome, everybody. I’m Chef Athena Reynolds. Today we’re making maple-braised pork chops, with crispy Brussels sprouts, and creamed spinach. We’ll be operating two and three to a station, so please grab an apron from my sous chef Ari, here, find your partner or partners, pick your spot, and we’ll get started.”
Everybody leapt into motion. It was mild chaos as people bumped into one another, paused to greet each other, and took their sweet time. Athena had to remind herself that they weren’t trained, so she couldn’t expect the efficiency of her staff at Olympus. Once everyone was settled at their respective stations, Athena took her position.
“Before we begin, I want to introduce you to the people who are making all this happen.” She gestured to Crystal. “This is Crystal Blue. This diner is her place, and she’s graciously offered up the space for our classes. It’s also worth noting that she makes the best damned fried chicken I have ever eaten. If you’re in town long enough, I encourage you to pop back by during regular business hours and get some.”
Athena wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Crystal blush that much in all the years she’d known her.
“Oh now. Thank you. It was my grandmama’s recipe.”
“Family recipes are often the best. But food is only as good as the ingredients you put into it, and that brings me to my last introduction. Our ingredients today have all been provided by Logan Maxwell. Logan, do you want to tell these folks a little bit about what it is you do?”
He hesitated a few beats, clearly surprised at being put on the spot.
Athena arched a brow. Turnabout is fair play, Farmer Boy.
Evidently resigning himself, he straightened from the wall and joined her in the center of the room. “Well, to put it simply, I’m a farmer. But that really undersells the reality of what we do out at Maxwell Organics.” He launched into his explanation, easy and in his element, clearly discussing his passion. The low cadence of his voice settled more of Athena’s nerves, such that by the time he finished, she felt far more in control.
“In short, we’re all about sustainable, organic agriculture.”
A hand shot up. One of the out-of-towners. “Do you give tours of the farm?”
“Sure. From time to time. I think it’s important for people to see where their food actually comes from.”
“What about the farmer’s market here in town?” This came from Abbey.
“We absolutely have a stand at the farmer’s market during the season, and we sell CSA shares by the season. I’ll be happy to provide a schedule at the end of class for those of you who are interested.”
Athena stepped back into the center of the room. “Thank you, Logan. Now, let’s get started. You’ll notice that each station is fitted out with a hot plate, two cutting boards, knives, assorted bowls and ingredients. The pork is still in the refrigerator, brining until we need it later. This is everything we need to make the creamed spinach and the Brussels sprouts. It’s good practice to pull out and organize every single ingredient before you begin so you don’t run into any surprises by finding out when you’re already in the middle of something that you’re out of a key component. In French cooking, we call this mise en place or everything in its place.”
Another hand shot up. Another of the out-of-towners.
Athena tensed and began rehearsing the carefully prepared rebuffs she’d worked out earlier this week. “Yes?”
“Is it true you studied with Francis Cano?” She said his name with the reverence the great chef deserved.
“I did.” Her apprenticeship was something she certainly didn’t mind talking about.
“What was he like?”
“Soft-spoken, brilliant, and utterly terrifying. He says things once and only once. If you miss it, he’ll toss you out of his kitchen. But his food is so good it could start—or end—wars.”
The woman grinned. “That is so cool.”
Athena found a hint of a smile herself. “Yes, yes it was. Now, to begin, I’m going to get y’all to dice the onion. I’m sure everybody has their way to do this, but I’m going to show you the proper technique.” She took them through it, demonstrating the correct way to hold the knife and walking them through the steps to create a nice, even dice without risking fingers.
She answered more questions as they went through the recipe. But no one asked about the video. No one said a word about Olympus or the lost star. As the class progressed, Athena realized that maybe her perspective on this whole thing was skewed. She’d become so accustomed to thinking of her restaurant and her life—which really had been one and the same for years now—as the center of the world. Any drama that impacted those things felt like big news that everyone knew because everyone in her circle was part of that same small, foodie world.
But these people seemed to know nothing of all that. They knew the stuff that had been in her website bio. The big stuff that was readily out there in the non-trade publications. But the industry gossip, the details of her humiliation hadn’t even pinged their radars. Because, surprise surprise, she wasn’t the center of everything.
On some level she’d known that. But she’d needed this very real-world example to prove what Logan, Sean, and the rest of her family had been telling her for weeks. She wasn’t ruined. Not to everyone.
For the first time since she’d walked out of Olympus, Athena felt like she could breathe. More, she felt the familiar spark of excitement at sharing good food with people. By the time the class sat down hours later, family-style, to eat the fruits of their labor, she was actually having fun.
“What are we cooking next week?” Essie asked.
“I’m not sure yet. Our menu today was inspired by what was freshest on the farm when we walked the fields this morning.” With a quick look at Logan that was part question, part apology, Athena asked, “How would y’all like to come out to the farm before class starts next week? Get that tour and pick your own produce?”
The idea got an enthusiastic yes. Over the rest of the meal, they hashed out the details and Athena was already considering possible lessons.
Sunset streaked over the sky above the Ridge by the time the last student walked out of the diner.
Logan twisted the lock. “Well, I’d say that went pretty damned well.”
More than a little giddy with relief, Athena began shoving tables back into their proper places. “It went far better than I expected.”
“I enjoyed seeing you in your element. I always enjoy watching you cook.” He glanced at the closed door to the kitchen, where Crystal was loading the industrial dishwasher, and lowered his voice. “Though I confess, I prefer watching you do it in nothing but my shirt.”
“Well, you did promise to seduce me as a reward for getting through the class.”
He hooked her around the waist and pulled her in. “Baby, you did so much more than just getting through. And maybe it’s a stupid thing to say, since you’re a badass chef and all, but I’m proud of what you did here today.”
She’d received praise and accolades from some of the biggest names in the industry. But none of them gave her quite the same feeling as his quietly spoken words. “Thanks.”
“So tonight, I say we celebrate. It happens, I’ve got a bottle of champagne chilled in my fridge and the season’s first fresh strawberries. I expect you’ve got some ideas on how best to utilize those ingredients.”
The hum in her blood that had stayed with her all through class flashed to a sizzle. Lips curving, she slid a hand up his chest and into the hair at his nape. “I expect I do.”
“There’s one thing, though.” His expression hit somewhere between teasing and serious.
“What’s that?”
“I might need all night to properly reward you. The class was that good.”
“You want me to stay the night?”
“Not if you’re not ready. But yeah, I want you to stay the night. I want to wake up next to you in the morning.”
Athena’s heart gave a hard knock against her ribs. All night with him. It sounded like heaven.
Rising up to her toes, she brushed her lips to his. “I like the way you think, Farmer Boy.”
Logan jerked at the first strident call from his feathered alarm clock.
Beside him, Athena jolted and curled tighter into her pillow as she spewed a string of vicious curses. “I’m going to wring that bastard rooster’s neck and turn him into jerky.”
Even as he wished he could wrap around her and find a better way to greet the day, Rudy crowed again. Logan pressed a kiss to Athena’s shoulder. “Try to go back to sleep. No reason for you to get up this early while I see to the animals.”
As soon as he vacated the bed, she confiscated his pillow and jammed it on top of her head. The sight of her in the thin, wispy light of dawn had him smiling. Leaving her there was maybe not quite what he wanted for a start to his morning, but a damned fine thing to wake up to nonetheless. Dragging on jeans and a t-shirt from the clean hamper, he unearthed some socks and headed downstairs to start his day.
The dogs rose from their beds in the den and padded over, wagging, butting his legs, his hands. He offered rubs and scratches and opened the door. Bo and Peep streaked off the porch and headed around the back of the house to do their business. Logan retreated inside to pour his first cup of coffee—brewed on a timer. Thank God for modern technology. With the warm mug in his hands, he stepped out on the porch to survey his domain. Sunrise lightened the horizon, limning the fields and outbuildings in an ethereal light. He loved this time of day, loved the quiet before everything got up and running. For these first, few, quiet minutes, he enjoyed the peace and bone-deep happiness of knowing he was where he was supposed to be doing exactly what he was supposed to do. And today, he had a beautiful woman in his bed. One he’d spent his whole night making love to. The crash of no sleep would hit him later, but that was why God made coffee. Finishing his, he left the mug inside and began his chores.
There were animals to be fed, cows to be milked. By the time the milking system in the dairy barn was sanitized, his two high school interns—both members of Future Farmers of America—had arrived. They took over the milking process, so Logan headed out to deal with the pastured chickens. On the way, he nodded a wordless greeting to Sebastian, who was already out in the paddock working with Gingersnap, one of the rescues. The horse had put on weight in the past weeks. She still had a long way to go, but she already looked like a different animal.
Out in the west pasture, he released the chickens from their mobile coops. They spilled out, cackling and dancing with freedom before settling in to peck up bugs and grass and clover. Cleaning beneath the roosts, checking nesting boxes, and refilling water was rote for him. As was moving their mobile coops about a hundred feet so they’d have a new patch of grass and clover to roam and fertilize.
By the time Logan had worked his way through the rest of the list, he was thinking about another cup of coffee. He scrubbed up, wondering whether he could slip back into bed with Athena to give her a wakeup call that would make up for the rooster. Pleased with the idea, he toed off his boots on the porch and went back inside.
She was in his kitchen, wearing one of his shirts. Her long legs were bare and her hair was still mussed from sleep and his hands as she moved with that graceful efficiency to make some kind of breakfast. It was exactly the image he’d had in his head. But this was better because her lips were curved in a quiet smile and the dogs were sprawled out at her feet, gazing up in adoration. She looked relaxed and happy. Logan knew what a big deal that was. That she was relaxed here, in this kitchen, on this farm. He understood what this place was to her. She just looked right here. In his kitchen, on his farm, in his life.
Drawn by the pretty picture she made, he stepped into the room. Athena looked up and offered him a sleepy, satisfied smile. It struck him in the chest, a mule kick to the heart that stole his breath.
He was in love with her. Completely, head over heels, totally gone, no turning back, in love with her.
“Hey. I found the coffee. You want more?”
Crossing the space between them in three strides, he took her mouth, both because he couldn’t not kiss her in that moment and to stop himself from saying anything foolish like, “I love you. Marry me and make this your home again.” It didn’t feel foolish in the least, but it was way the hell too soon for declarations. He wasn’t about to do anything to send her running.
Breathless, she pressed her brow to his. “Well, good morning to you, too.”
“You didn’t have to get up.”
“I hate your rooster. But my body actually does remember farm life. Once you were out of bed, I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I’d make you breakfast.”
“And what is breakfast?”
“A bacon, white cheddar, and green onion frittata.” She patted his chest. “Sit, have another cup of coffee, while I get this put together and in the oven.”
He poured the coffee and kicked back against the opposite counter while she worked.
“I’ve been giving some thought to what we might cook for class next week.”
She began to chatter on about recipe ideas. As long as he’d known her, she’d been passionate about food, but he’d never seen her this excited.
“Why are you smiling?” she demanded.
“It’s just, I’ve never heard you quite like this before. Like your brain is firing at ninety miles an hour.”
She paused, the cast iron skillet in one hand. “I feel…inspired. Like a weight that’s been hanging on me for months is finally just…gone. I’m excited about food again, and I can’t even begin to tell you what a gift that is.” Sliding the skillet into the oven, she straightened. “And it’s all because of you.”
He’d wanted to be good for her, but he only just now realized how good she was for him, too. Her words were confirmation that she felt it too, this sense that they brought out the best in each other. She wasn’t ready to see a future yet, wasn’t ready to acknowledge the depth and breadth of what was between them. But this was a helluva start.
As that all fell into the category of things that might scare her off, he said only, “We make a good team.”
“You’re very, very good for me, Farmer Boy.”
To stop himself from giving in and saying it anyway, he snagged her around the waist, drew her in. “I intend to be very, very good to you again.” He ran a hand up her thigh and discovered she wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath his shirt. “How long will that frittata take?”
Those smoky gray eyes went dark. “Long enough.”
He lifted her onto the counter. “We’ll just stay down here so you can keep an eye on things.”
“Here?” She squeaked.
“Here.”
By the time the frittata was ready, the rooster was no longer the loudest cry of the morning.