Page 40 of The Clover Chapel (Jamison Valley 2)
And though it was heartbreaking to think of my life without Logan, I wouldn’t blame him. This was all my fault.
I pulled into my driveway, which was currently occupied by a large, black Cadillac SUV parked by the garage. The driver’s door opened and a tall man stepped out, wearing a black wool dress coat and jeans.
Logan.
I had no idea what he was doing in Montana but it didn’t matter. Whatever his reasons, I was just glad to see him.
Jumping out of the Jeep, I walked right to him and wrapped my arms around his waist, burrowing my head into his chest.
I held my breath, waiting for his reaction, hoping he wouldn’t push me away.
When his arms closed tightly around my shoulders and his cheek dropped to my head, the air rushed out of my lungs.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too,” he said, kissing my hair.
“Are you here to break up with me?”
He chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on it.”
“Good,” I said, squeezing him tighter.
I took a few deep breaths, inhaling his Armani cologne, before pulling away. Logan always smelled good.
Nick smells better.
That unwelcome comparison ran right through my mind without control. Silently scolding myself, I looked into Logan’s brown eyes. My brain unwillingly conjured up the image of Nick’s vibrant hazel ones.
Nick’s eyes are better too.
What was wrong with me? Why was I standing here with my amazingly handsome boyfriend thinking about Nick Slater?
Because I was bat-shit crazy. That’s why.
“You okay?” Logan asked.
“What? Oh. Yes. I think I’m still in shock that you’re actually here,” I lied.
“Sorry. I should have called, but I just needed some time. I’m tired of having phone conversations.”
“Me too. We need to talk.”
“We do, but not this second. I was thinking we could barricade ourselves in your house and camp out in the bedroom. We can talk in there, among other things.” He grinned.
“I like that plan. But we’re going to need provisions. Otherwise, we’ll starve to death. All I have left in the house is Diet Coke and a half-eaten bag of Swedish Fish.”
“Is there a Chinese place in town where we could get some takeout for Thanksgiving tomorrow?” he asked.
A huge smile took over my face. I’d been terribly depressed, thinking of spending my first Prescott holiday alone. But now with Logan here, it would be like normal. “You’re in luck, darling. Along with one take-n-bake pizza place, there are exactly four restaurants in Prescott, one of which is Peking Garden Chinese.”
“Excellent. Show me this town of yours, sweetheart. Get us our Thanksgiving feast.”
Five minutes later, we were driving the Jeep into town. “When do you have to go back?”
?
?Friday evening,” he said.
