In the backseat of the cab, Athena smoothed her sweaty palms over her skirt. She wished she’d gotten the chance to talk to Maggie again this morning. Her sister had been up and out early for work, leaving Athena to get ready for this meeting on her own. Conscious of meeting with a bunch of Hollywood types and the need to make a good impression, she’d spent a lot more time and effort on her appearance than usual. Hair. Makeup. A dress. Heels she hoped never to see again. Stuff she usually reserved for major events like weddings and funerals. She wished like hell she could do this in jeans and boots. But they were expecting a professional chef, not a farm girl.
Realizing she’d clenched her hands in her skirt, she relaxed them, smoothing the fabric again. Why the hell was she thinking about being a farm girl right now anyway? She wasn’t a farm girl. Hadn’t been since she was a kid. A couple of months hanging out with Logan didn’t change that, no matter how comfortable she’d gotten back on the farm.
He hadn’t texted or tried to call. Not to apologize and not to try to talk her out of this. That was fine. She didn’t actually want to talk to him anyway. Except that she did. She ached to hear the sound of his voice soothing the nerves and telling her she’d get through this meeting. That she’d shine and impress. But that was the fantasy version of Logan.
The real one had made it perfectly clear he wouldn’t tell her that. The real one was going to blame her for making this choice in the first place because it wasn’t the one he wanted. He wanted the one that would keep her in Tennessee, support her dad, and be magically, professionally fulfilling for her. Because apparently the real Logan believed in unicorns.
And damn it, why was she thinking of him? Again. She didn’t need all that in her head before this meeting. She needed to be on top of her game, focused on…whatever they were going to throw at her.
“Lady?”
She jolted at the sound of the cabbie’s voice. “Yeah?”
“We’re here.”
Turning her head, she caught sight of a gleaming steel and glass building with a larger-than-life version of SizzleTV’s logo front and center. “Oh. Sorry.”
She dug out cash to pay the fare and stepped out of the car, muttering a silent prayer that she didn’t take a header in these heels and embarrass herself. Inside the spacious, modern lobby she paused, searching for the reception desk.
“Athena!” Brock’s voice boomed and he strode over, his hand already outstretched to take hers and shake it. “I’m so glad you made it.”
Years of Joan Reynolds’ lessons in manners had her murmuring, “Thank you for having me.”
Tucking her hand in his elbow, Brock towed her toward the elevator. “We’ve got just enough time for a tour of the studios before we meet with everybody.”
He showed her production rooms and sets for shows she watched herself. She snapped a few pictures of those to text Ari. Her niece wasn’t any happier with her than Logan, but maybe she’d at least think it was cool. By the time they made it into the network kitchens, she began to relax a little. The gleaming commercial grade ranges and ovens elicited a sharp stab of professional lust. She wished they could have their meeting in here, so she could cook and talk and distract from her awkwardness with food. But Brock was already dragging her away, down a hall and up an elevator to a floor of offices.
The conference room he hauled her into was a hive of activity. The sheer number of people overwhelmed her, so she missed the names of most of them during the introductions. Then they were seated, her at one end of the big conference table, and everybody was looking at her.
Athena fought not to fidget.
At the other end of the table, the guy whose name she didn’t remember but who was clearly the One In Charge, kicked back in his chair. “We’re so excited you’re here.”
Okay, deep breath. You’ve got this. You’re a badass chef and you are in control. She had no idea how this meeting was meant to go, but her mother had always said start as you mean to continue. Straightening her shoulders, Athena did her best to channel Maggie’s cool, calm, collected nature. “I appreciate the opportunity. Mr. Archer hasn’t said anything just yet about the specifics of what y’all were thinking but I had a few ideas I’d like to share.”
Money Man nodded. “Sure, we’d love to hear them.”
This was what she’d used to distract herself when she couldn’t sleep the past couple of nights. “You’re in the food industry, so I know you’re all familiar with the farm-to-table or farm-to-fork movement.”
She caught nods and noises of agreement.
“It’s something I’ve always felt very passionate about. Knowing where your food comes from, how it’s grown or raised, and being able to make menus and meals from what’s peaking at any given time. Food is—or should be—inherently seasonal. I was raised on a farm, so this is something I know better than many. And it’s something I’ve been reconnecting with the past few months.”
She had a flash of Logan in jeans and a t-shirt, hands covered in good, rich earth as he lifted the latest, gorgeous produce from his land. The land that had once been hers.
Shaking the image away, she continued. “Now certainly in the restaurant scene, farm-to-table isn’t new. But it is trending, and less attention has been paid to it from the standpoint of cooking television. What I would really love to do is bring that reality to viewers. Highlight organic farmers around the country and really show people what you can do with seasonal organics and heirloom ingredients. I think it could fill a niche for your viewership that nobody else is really playing with.”
Money Man steepled his fingers. “That’s an interesting concept, but not quite what we had in mind.”
She’d assumed they had other ideas, so she settled back in her chair to listen, channeling the polite mask she always used when dealing with restaurant patrons.
“As you may not know, SizzleTV was really founded on competition. We’ve expanded our programming options, certainly, but our bread and butter around here is cooking contests with lots of pop and personality.”
Athena frowned. “Mr. Archer said you weren’t looking at me as a contestant.”
“He’s correct. We’re not. We definitely want you as a host, but we’re looking for something with more punch, more drama.”
“Drama?” A sick feeling set up in her gut.
“We’re more interested in having you be the face of SizzleTV’s answer to Kitchen Nightmares.”
A show that was all about going into other restaurant kitchens and tearing them apart before putting them back together to be a success. She understood the appeal of it. Had watched a lot of it herself. It was one of the things she and Ari had bonded over. But being entertained and being the entertainer were two very different things.
“You…don’t want me to cook?”
Money Man waved a cheerful hand. “I’m sure you’re a perfectly wonderful chef, but we want to capitalize on your existing notoriety. You were utterly magnificent in your rage and viewers will eat that up. A female Gordon Ramsay.”
They’d seen the video. Of course they had. People like this would do thorough internet research on any prospective host. Certainly her reputation would matter to public opinion, but…to do this, to keep her most embarrassing moment in the limelight…
Money Man was still talking, an avaricious gleam in his eyes as he discussed concepts and ratings and how the show would be structured, what their expectations of her really were. All centered around cementing her reputation as an unprofessional hothead.
Logan was right. It wasn’t about the food. She wouldn’t have control. And none of this was what she’d hoped it would be. This wasn’t even the world of pretension she’d left. This was worse. They were asking her to debase herself for the sake of ratings. That wasn’t a choice she could make. Not even for her father’s sake. Apparently, she had a line, and this was it.
“I’m sorry. I wish Mr. Archer had been forthcoming about this from the beginning. I came out here under the impression you wanted me to do a cooking show. Something that would take advantage of my expertise as a chef. I have no interest in losing my temper on camera on a weekly basis.”
Everybody started talking at once, a storm of words attempting to placate or convince. It all sounded like the buzz of so many bees, swarming around her, waiting to sting.
Embarrassed, humiliated, Athena shoved back from the table, needing to escape before she lost her shit right here. “I apologize for wasting everyone’s time.”
Before anyone could stop her, she marched out of the conference room, head held high. She made it to the elevator without being stopped, and as soon as the doors slid shut, she slipped off the hated heels.
She’d been a fool. Desperate and blind. And Logan, for all his head shrink talk, had been trying to save her from exactly this. Why hadn’t she listened?
He knew her. Understood her. Did it really matter how? He saw her. And he didn’t want to change her, didn’t want her to be anyone other than who she was. He hadn’t used his training in a bid to take her control away, in fact. He wanted success for her on her terms. She was an idiot to walk away from that.
Well, Farmer Boy, I’m listening now. And I’ll take your search for unicorns over this any day.
The elevator doors opened to the lobby, and Athena took off running. She had to get back to Tennessee.
A volley of manic barking jerked Logan from sleep. He jackknifed up in bed, hands curling to fists to defend against…what? The dogs had already bolted from the room, the skitter of their paws against the wood of the stairs echoing in the otherwise quiet house before he registered the knocking.
What the hell?
Scrubbing a hand over his face, he checked the clock. After midnight.
Maybe it was Sebastian. A problem with the horses maybe. Dragging on some jeans, he stumbled barefoot down the stairs. Bo and Peep danced in the entryway, whining and crying.
“Calm down,” he rasped, flipping on the front porch light and reaching for the door.
Athena stood on the other side.
For half a second, Logan wondered if he was still dreaming. If he’d summoned her out of sheer want. The rough bump of the dogs shoving past him assured him he was conscious. Given how they’d parted, she was the last person he expected to see on his doorstep. In the seconds his brain took to register that she was really here, Bo and Peep swarmed her, headbutting her legs, yipping delighted greetings.
She crouched enough to love on them, but didn’t take her eyes from his face. “I woke you. I’m sorry. I drove straight here from the airport.”
Her expression was guarded, and every line of her body shouted anxiety.
About seeing him? About something else? Whatever it was, he wanted to gather her in his arms and make it better. But that would be pretending their fight hadn’t happened. That nothing had changed.
Instead, he stepped back. “It’s fine. Come in. I didn’t expect you back so soon.” As his brain began to fire, he realized she shouldn’t have been back before the end of the week. He woke the rest of the way up in a flash. “Is everything all right? Your dad? Your sisters?”
Straightening from the dogs, she moved past him into the house. “Dad’s fine so far as I know. I haven’t talked to anybody but Maggie to say I was coming home early.”
Home.
He wanted to read significance into that but didn’t dare let himself hope. Instead, he shut the door and waited, trailing her into the living room, flipping on lights. Did it mean something that she hadn’t chosen the kitchen?
She dropped into one of the chairs, tangling her hands and sucking in a long breath as she looked at the floor. “My meeting with the network execs was this morning.”
Logan didn’t even breathe as he sat on the adjacent sofa and braced himself for whatever came next.
Athena heaved another huge sigh. “You were right.”
There was no relief in that, no vindication. Not when she sat there, shoulders slumped in defeat.
“I’m sorry.” And he was. He knew how badly she needed to know what came next, needed to have a plan for moving forward.
“They wanted to make a spectacle of me. Turn me into the female Gordon Ramsay. Play up on the notoriety I established in that viral video.”
Temper and indignation stirred on her behalf. That was even worse than he’d imagined, and it would’ve been like a kick to the ribs for her already wounded pride. “Assholes.”
A burst of sound that might’ve been a laugh escaped her. “Yeah. I walked out in the middle of the meeting.” She lifted her gaze to his and her eyes were fierce. “I wasn’t that desperate.”
He winced. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
She shook her head. “You’re not. Not when you were mostly right.”
She had him there. “Then I’m sorry for how I said it. Which part did I get wrong?”
“That I didn’t want to walk away from that life. I had already made that decision. But I want to do it on my terms. That’s what I hoped to get out of this show. Not a long-term career change. A chance to walk away on a positive note.”
“Would it piss you off if I said I’d more or less figured that out?”
“No, I don’t think it would. Not now.”
And what does that mean? “It was after you left. Or after I stuck my foot in it, and you left, and I wallowed, and drank a bit, and wallowed. And then I realized I didn’t give you a chance to say any of that because I was too busy shoving my opinion down your throat.” Now it was his turn to sigh. “And panicking about the idea that you were leaving. It was not my best moment.”
“I’m not a big fan of anybody who says anything is for my own good.”
“Is that what you meant when you said I’d been using my skills to try to handle you?”
She folded both arms across her middle. “I don’t have a good history with therapists. It was school counselors and social workers and well-intentioned teachers that I trusted, who questioned me and used my answers to take me away from my father. There was a whole lot of stuff done for my own good, with no thought to what I wanted, because they had their own agendas.”
“My only agenda was to protect you.”
Restless energy pumped off her in waves. She shoved to her feet and began to pace. “I know. You said it because you care.”
Care. Such a pale word for what he felt for her, but she was clearly working up to something, so he stayed quiet.
“You’re not like them. Even when you were yelling at me, you were still doing it because you cared. You didn’t betray me, and it wasn’t fair of me to lump you in with the people who did.” She made a tight circuit of the room. “I thought a lot about that on the flight home. I’m not used to anybody looking out for me.”
“Your sisters—”
Athena waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, of course, them, but they know the limits of what I’ll tolerate. Which isn’t much. I’ve been on my own for a very, very long time, and the truth is, I haven’t trusted anybody enough to let them try to protect me or take care of me since my dad’s overdose. Joan did, to a point. But it’s not the same. I didn’t—couldn’t—trust anybody all the way because the one person I should’ve been able to count on let me down. It’s really hard for me to admit that out loud. Because it feels like a betrayal of my dad somehow.” She shot a glance in his direction as if daring him to say she was right. “He did the best he could.”
A dozen responses scrolled through Logan’s head, but all of them were either profane or clinical, neither of which would serve him here. “It still left you in a bad spot. You’re allowed to feel about that however you feel. You were a kid.” It still infuriated him to imagine what she’d gone through. What she’d been forced to confront at so young an age.
“I was a kid,” she agreed. “And I got left alone because he felt backed into a corner, like he had no other choices. He made the one in front of him, and it was the wrong one. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want to make a choice in the name of taking care of him that’s going to leave me alone again. I don’t want to leave my family.” She stopped pacing to face him. “I don’t want to leave you.”
Relief hit him fast and hard, stealing his breath. It wasn’t a permanent answer, not yet, but it was an admission she wanted to find one. That was enough for now. Reaching out, Logan snagged her hand and tugged her down to his lap. All his rough edges smoothed out as she leaned in, wrapping her arms around him. Skimming a hand through her hair, he pressed his brow to hers. “Well that’s handy. Because I’m in love with you.”
She jerked back far enough to look into his face, eyes wide. “Logan.”
“No pressure. Just fact. I think I was more than halfway there last summer.”
“I—”
“You don’t have to say anything back. I just wanted you to factor that in as we’re figuring out what comes next.”
“Will you please shut up a minute?”
He lifted his brows at the snap in her tone. “Yes, ma’am. Do you know I can’t resist when you say please?”
She gave him a look. “Then please, hush. I left my meeting, took a cab back to Maggie’s to grab my stuff, and went straight to the airport, where I took three flights to get back to Nashville and drove straight here in the middle of the damned night because I couldn’t wait another day to fix things with you.”
His lips twitched. “You could’ve called.”
Exasperated, she thumped him on the shoulder. “I was not going to tell you I love you over the damned phone.”
Surprise and wonder stole his breath. Or maybe that was just her. He hadn’t expected this, not this soon. All the jumbled, broken pieces she’d left in her wake when she walked out fell back into place, and his world felt right again. But he couldn’t resist teasing her. “No?”
“You can’t have makeup sex over the phone.”
“That is a true thing.” He stroked a hand down her spine. “Does that mean we’re made up now?”
“We’re not naked yet.”
“Shall we see what we can do about that?”
“Yes, please.”
Athena had come braced for a fight. For rejection. For a really obnoxious I told you so. But Logan didn’t do any of that. Because that wasn’t who he was. Thank God.
So why wasn’t she already kissing him?
Sensing her hesitation, Logan skimmed a hand up her spine. “Did we forget something?”
“No. I just…this feels different.”
“Different bad?”
“Different huge. Different scary.” How could she explain to him that this was like taking her first steps in a whole new body because she was…someone other than she’d always been.
“I’m right here with you. No more facing the scary stuff alone.”
Could she really do that? She’d been her own protector for longer than she could remember. Could she really trust him with this?
He drew her in and laid his lips over hers. They both sighed, and she felt his coiled muscles ease, as if he’d suffered as much as she had the last couple of days. Probably he had. He was in love with her, after all. And that was a freaking miracle. Logan Maxwell was in love with her, in spite of—or maybe because of who she was. Difficult, frustrating, and stubborn. As much of a challenge as the land he’d made his own. There was probably something poetic in that. And that was exactly the reason she could and would trust him with her heart.
She framed his face in her hands, loving the rasp of his beard against her palms. “Just thinking how very lucky I am.” On a sigh, she brushed her lips back to his. “I love you, Logan.” It was terrifying and thrilling to admit it. “I’ve never said that to any other guy.”
A shudder went through him, and his hands tightened on her. After another moment’s hesitation, he skimmed his lips along her jaw, down the column of her throat. “I figured on taking another few months to convince you of that.”
“Oh?” The word was part question part exclamation as her head dropped back to give him better access.
His path continued from her collar bone, back up to the shell of her ear, igniting little fires in his wake. “Yeah, I had this whole plan not to rush you, to make myself indispensable, until you figured out you couldn’t live without me. I’m really good at waiting.”
As gooseflesh pebbled along her skin, she threaded fingers in his hair. “I’m really not. Take me upstairs.”
She felt his smile against her skin as he slid an arm under her legs and scooped her up, bride-style. Sensing a game, Bo and Peep leapt to their feet, all wags.
“Stay,” Logan ordered.
Peep whined. Bo took two, prancing steps toward the stairs.
“I’ll make you something awesome in the morning,” Athena promised.
They trailed up the stairs anyway, huffing in insult when Logan kicked the bedroom door shut in their faces.
“Poor babies,” Athena murmured.
“They’ll get over it,” Logan promised, laying her out on the bed and stretching out over her.
She wrapped around him, trailing her hands down the smooth, warm skin of his back and sliding them into his jeans. He wasn’t wearing any boxers.
“Somebody surprised me out of bed.”
Giving his taut ass a squeeze, she lifted her mouth to nibble along his throat. “Sorry. Not sorry.”
“We’ll both be very not sorry by the time we’re finished.”
His promise had a rush of heat blooming in her core. “I do love that you’re a man of your word.”
She thought he’d rush. Strip her down and plunge into her, wiping away the distance that had built between them. She loved making him break his control, loved seeing that patience he so prized stripped away by wanting her. But tonight his stubborn outmatched hers.
He took his time, slowly nudging up her shirt, stroking, tracing every newly exposed inch. By the time he finally pulled it off, her skin was humming with desire. She wanted to feel his hands on her, his weight. Thinking to speed things up, she reached for the waistband of his jeans, but he neatly dodged her, pinning her hands and fastening his mouth on one nipple to suckle over her bra.
“Logan.” His name was a plea and a protest. “I need more.”
“You’ll have more. On my schedule this time.”
With one hand, he released the clasp of her bra and drew it away. Her breasts spilled free, into the warmth of his callused hands, and she moaned, arching into his touch. He settled one denim-clad leg between her thighs, against her core, and she lifted her hips to rub against him. The warm rasp of his tongue sent bolts of pleasure straight from her tightened nipples down to her center. Cupping his head, she whimpered and rolled against him to the rhythm of his mouth.
Reaching between them, he flicked open the button of her jeans, easing the zipper down.
“Yes. Dear God, yes. I need to be naked. I need to feel you.”
But instead of tugging off her jeans, he slid a hand beneath her panties, cupping the warmth of her sex. The pressure of skin against her most sensitive places made up for the disappointment, and she opened her legs wide in invitation. Still worshiping her breast, he curled a finger inside her. She cried out with the pleasure of it, rolling her hips against the heel of his hand. He slid a second finger into her, stretching her, filling her and she rode him, lost to everything but the demands he made on her body, until she shot over the hard, brutal edge, shouting his name.
He eased her down with his lips, his hands, paying homage to her hips and legs as he dragged off the rest of her clothes.
With eyes heavy from release, she watched him, still in his jeans. “No fair. My arms don’t work right now.”
His grin was smug. “I’ve got this.” He stripped them off, kicking them to the floor and rolling back to her. Finally, skin against glorious skin.
She pressed her face against his throat, inhaling the scent of him—something like leather and leaves and Logan. Home. “I love you.”
Her quiet words had the effect her demands had not, stripping away some of his patience. Reaching for the bedside drawer, he found a condom, rolled it on. Then he was over her, his weight pressing her into the mattress, his erection nudging her center as he curved a hand around her cheek. “Athena. My beautiful, brave Athena.”
Turning her face into his palm, she whispered, “Yes.” She was his. Completely, happily his.
“I love you.” He took her mouth as he took her body, with exquisite care and maddening slowness.
This time, when he filled her, it was more than what they’d had before, as he’d become more. He’d become all. And as they neared the end of that glorious climb, as pleasure stoked pleasure and lit up every dark place inside her, she thought nothing would ever feel as wonderful as making love with this man. Except maybe doing it all over again for the rest of forever.
After they’d thoroughly wrecked each other, when they lay in panting silence, hearts still thundering, Athena tucked her head against his shoulder. “You were right.”
“About what?” he wheezed.
“Definitely not sorry.”
On a laugh, he curled his arm tighter around her waist and pressed a kiss to her temple. “No. I’ll never be sorry for this. Will you stay tonight?”
“Even if you hadn’t completely robbed me of motor function.”
She felt his whole body smile against her. “You’re onto my evil plan.”
“Does your evil plan involve doing that again in the morning to make up for your bastard rooster?”
“I believe that can be arranged.”
“Then you’ll need a crowbar to get me out of your bed.”
“Definitely no crowbar needed.”
Kissing her again, he made a quick trip to the bathroom to take care of necessities, before crawling back in and wrapping around her. “Get some sleep, baby.”
Exhausted, satisfied, she relaxed against him, loving the feel of his body going lax against hers. But she couldn’t settle. It felt almost like those nights when everything had gone right in her kitchen, when she felt like the queen of her world, and her mind wouldn’t stop racing from the high. Except this time she was thinking of Logan and the pieces of their very different lives. How she could make them mesh. She’d figure it out. She had faith in that now. But she didn’t have the details worked out yet, so her brain was turning over all the pieces, examining the details.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you busy all day tomorrow?”
Chuckling, he brushed his lips against her nape. “I can delegate most of it in the name of keeping you in my bed.”
She snorted. “As appealing an idea as that is, it’s not what I meant. I was hoping you’d go with me to Johnson City.”
“For what?”
“To meet my dad.”
He went very still. “Xander said you don’t even take your sisters to see him.”
“I don’t.” It was too hard to have other people see the state he was in. “But I’d like him to meet you.”
He curled tighter around her. “Then we’ll go tomorrow afternoon.”
Okay, that was a first step. Showing him this piece of her life that no one had ever been allowed to see. The idea of it ought to freak her out. She shared her dad with no one. But finally…finally she felt like she could.
Letting go of a last, lingering tension, she slid off into sleep.