Laughter in the Rain, page 11
“The next time you buy a woman a gift,” she interrupted in a stern voice, “it had better be me.”
He ignored her statement. “Abby, how could you believe I’m attracted to Patty?”
She opened her mouth and closed it again. “Maybe I can believe that you really do care about me. But I’ve seen the way Patty looks at you. It wouldn’t take more than a word to have her fall in love with you. I don’t want to see her hurt.” Or any of us, for that matter, Abby mused. “I don’t believe you’re using Patty to make me jealous,” she said honestly. “I mean, I wondered about it, but then decided you weren’t.”
“I’m glad you realize that much.” He breathed out in obvious relief.
“But I recognize the looks she’s giving you, Logan. She wants you.”
“And Tate wants you!”
Abby’s shoulders sagged. “Don’t go bringing him into this discussion. It’s not right. We were talking about you, not me.”
“Why not? Isn’t turnabout fair play?” The contempt in his expression made her want to cry.
“That’s tiddlywinks, not love,” she said saucily.
“But if Patty looks at me with adoring eyes, it only mirrors the way Tate looks at you.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous,” she said, annoyed by his false logic.
Slowly Logan rubbed his chin. “It’s always amazed me that you can twist a conversation any way you want.”
“That’s not true,” she said, hating the fact that he’d turned the situation around to suit himself.
“All right, let’s put it like this—if you mention Patty Martin, then I mention Tate Harding. That sounds fair to me.”
“Fine.” She flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder. “I won’t mention Patty again.”
“Are you still seeing him?”
“Who?” Abby widened her eyes innocently.
Logan’s jaw tightened grimly. “I want you to promise me that you won’t date Harding again.”
Abby stared at him.
“A simple yes or no. That’s all I want.”
The answer wasn’t even difficult. She wasn’t dating him. “And what do I get in return?”
He bent his head to study his hands. “Something that’s been yours for more than a year. My heart.”
At his words, all of Abby’s defensive anger melted. “Oh Logan,” she whispered, emotion bringing a misty happiness to her eyes.
“I’ve loved you so long, Abby, I can’t bear to lose you.” There could be no doubt of his sincerity.
“I love you, too.”
“Then why are you on the other side of the room when all I want to do is hold you and kiss you?”
The well of tenderness inside her overflowed. She rose from her sitting position. “In the interests of fairness, I think we should meet halfway. Okay?”
He chuckled as he stood, coming to her, but his eyes revealed a longing that was deep and intense. A low groan rumbled from his throat as he swept her into his arms and held her as if he never wanted to let her go. He kissed her eyes, her cheeks, the corner of her mouth until she moaned and begged for more.
“Abby.” His voice was muffled against her hair. “You’re not going to sidestep my question.”
“What question?” She smiled against his throat as she gave him nibbling, biting kisses.
His hands gripped her shoulders as he pulled her slightly away from him so he could look into her face. “You won’t be seeing Tate again?”
She decided not to make an issue of semantics. He meant date, not see. What she said in response was the truth. “I promise never to date anyone else again. Does that satisfy you?”
He linked his hands at the small of her back and smiled deeply into her eyes. “I suppose it’ll have to,” he said, echoing her remark when she’d let him in.
“Now it’s your turn.”
“What would you like?”
“No more dating Patty, okay?”
“I agree,” he replied without hesitation.
“Inventive gift ideas.”
He hesitated. “I’ll try.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“All right, all right, I agree.”
“And—”
“There’s more?” he interrupted with mock impatience.
“And at some point in our lives I want to drive to Des Moines.”
“Fine. Shall we seal this agreement with a kiss?”
“I think it would be only proper,” Abby said eagerly as she slid her arms around his waist and fit her body to his.
His large hands framed her face, lifting her lips to meet his. It lacked the urgency of their last kiss, but was filled with promise. His breathing was ragged when he released her, but Abby noted that her own wasn’t any calmer.
Not surprisingly, their truce held. Maybe it was because they both wanted it so badly. The next Sunday they met at her place for breakfast, which Abby cooked. Later, they drove over to her parents’ house and during their visit Frank Carpenter speculated that the two of them would be married by the end of the year. A few not-so-subtle questions about the “date” popped up here and there in the conversation. But neither of them seemed to mind. Logan was included in Abby’s every thought. This was the way love was supposed to be, Abby mused, as they returned to her apartment.
After changing clothes, they rode their bikes to the park and ate a picnic lunch. After that, with Logan’s head resting in her lap, Abby leaned against an elm tree and closed her eyes. This was the same tree that had supported her back during more than one reading session with Tate. A guilty sensation attacked the pit of her stomach, but she successfully fended it off.
“Did you hear that Dick Snyder wants to climb Mount Rainier this summer?” Logan asked unexpectedly, as he chewed lazily on a long blade of grass.
In addition to softball, Dick’s passion was mountain climbing. She’d heard rumors about his latest venture, but hadn’t been all that interested.
“Yeah, I heard that,” she murmured. “So?”
“So, what do you think?”
“What do I think about what?” Abby asked.
“They need an extra man. It sounds like the expedition will be canceled otherwise.” Logan frowned as he looked up at her.
“Climbing the highest mountain in Washington State should be a thrill—for some people. They won’t have any trouble finding someone. Personally, I have trouble making it over speed bumps,” she teased, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “What’s wrong?”
He smiled up at her and raised his hands to direct her mouth to his. “What could possibly be wrong?” he whispered as he moved his mouth onto her lips for a kiss that left her breathless.
* * *
—
The next week was the happiest of Abby’s life. Logan saw her daily. Monday they went to dinner at the same Mexican restaurant Tate had taken her to weeks before. The food was good, but Abby’s appetite wasn’t up to par. Again, Abby dismissed the twinge of guilt. Tuesday he picked her up for class, but they decided to skip school. Instead, they sat in the parking lot and talked until late. From there they drove until they found a café where they could enjoy their drinks outside. The communication between them had never been stronger.
Tate phoned Abby at work on Wednesday and asked her to meet him at the park before the softball game. He wanted to be sure his application for the business loan had been filled out correctly. Uneasy about being in public with him for fear Logan would see or hear about it, Abby promised to stop off at his garage.
Later, when Logan picked her up for the game, she was short-tempered and restless.
“What’s the matter with you tonight?” he complained as they reached the park. “You’re as jumpy as a bank robber.”
“Me?” She feigned innocence. “Nervous about the game, I guess.”
“You?” He looked at her with disbelief. “Ms. Confidence? You’d better tell me what’s really bothering you. ‘Fess up, kid.”
She felt her face heat with a guilty blush. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Abby, I thought we’d come a long way recently. Won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”
Logan was so sincere that Abby wanted to kick herself. “Nothing. Honest,” she lied, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She hated this deception, no matter how minor it really was.
“Obviously you’re not telling the truth,” he insisted, and a muscle twitched in his jaw.
“What makes you say that?” She gave him a look of pure innocence.
“Well, for one thing, your face is bright red.”
“It’s just hot, that’s all.”
He released a low breath. “Okay, if that’s the way you want it.”
Patty was in the bleachers when they arrived, and waved eagerly when she saw Logan. Abby doubted she’d noticed that Abby was with him.
“Your girlfriend’s here,” Abby murmured sarcastically.
“My girlfriend is walking beside me,” Logan said. “What’s gotten into you lately?”
Abby sighed. “Don’t tell me we’re going over all of that again?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. She ran onto the field, shouting for Dick to pitch her the ball.
The game went smoothly. Patty basked in the attention everyone was giving her and had the team sign her cast. Abby readily agreed to add her own comment, eager to see what Logan had written on the plaster. But she couldn’t locate it without being obvious. Maybe he’d done that on purpose. Maybe he’d written Patty a sweet message on the underside of her arm, where no one else could read it. The thought was so ridiculous that Abby almost laughed out loud.
They lost the game by a slim margin, and Abby realized she hadn’t been much help. During the get-together at the pizza place afterward she listened to the others joke and laugh. She wanted to join in, but tonight she simply didn’t feel like partying.
“Are you feeling all right?” Logan sat beside her, holding her hand. He studied her with worried eyes.
“I’m fine,” she answered, and managed a half-hearted smile. “But I’m a little tired. Would you mind taking me home?”
“Not at all.”
They got up and, with Logan’s hand at the small of her back, they made their excuses and left.
The silence in the car was deafening, but Abby did her best to ignore the unspoken questions Logan was sending her way.
“How about if I cook dinner tomorrow?” Abby said brightly. “I’ve been terrible tonight and I want to make it up to you.”
“If you’re not feeling well, maybe you should wait.”
“I’m fine. Just don’t expect anything more complicated than hot dogs on a bun.” She was teasing and Logan knew it.
He parked outside her building and kissed her gently. Abby held on to him compulsively, as if she couldn’t bear to let him go. She felt caught in a game of cat and mouse between Tate and Logan—a game in which she was quickly becoming the loser.
* * *
—
The following evening, Abby was putting the finishing touches on a salad when Logan came over.
“Surprise,” he said as he held out a small bouquet of flowers. “Is this more original than perfume?” he asked with laughing eyes.
“Hardly.” She gave him a soft brushing kiss across his freshly shaven cheek as she took the carnations from his hand. “Mmm, you smell good.”
Logan picked a tomato slice out of the salad and popped it into his mouth. “So do you.”
“Well, if you don’t like the fragrance, you have only yourself to blame.”
“Me? You smell like pork chops.” He slipped his arms around her waist from behind and nuzzled her neck. “You know I could get used to having dinner with you every single night.” The teasing quality left his eyes.
Abby dropped her gaze as her heart went skyrocketing into space. She knew what he was saying. The question had entered her mind several times during the past few days. These feelings they were experiencing were the kind to last a lifetime. Abby wanted to share Logan’s life. The desire to wake up with him at her side every morning, to marry him and have his children, was stronger than any instinct. She loved this man and wanted to be with him always.
“I think I could get used to that, too,” she admitted softly.
Someone knocked at the door, breaking into their conversation. Impatiently, Logan glanced at it. “Are you expecting anyone? One of your neighbors?”
“You,” she said. “Here, turn these. I’ll see who it is and get rid of them.” She handed him the spatula.
Abby’s hand was shaking as she grasped the knob, praying it wouldn’t be Tate. If she was lucky, she could ask him to leave before Logan knew what was happening.
Her worst fears were realized when she pulled the door open halfway.
“Hi. Someone let me into the lobby.”
“Hello, how are you?” she asked in a hushed whisper.
“I’m returning the books you lent me. I really enjoyed them.” Tate gave her a funny look. “Is this a bad time or something?”
“You might say that,” she breathed. “Could you come back tomorrow?”
“Sure, no problem. Is it Logan?”
Abby nodded, and as she did, the door was opened all the way.
“Hello, Tate,” Logan greeted him stiffly. “I’ve been half expecting you. Why don’t you come inside where we can all visit?”
Eight
The two men regarded each other with open hostility.
Glancing from one to the other, Abby paused to swallow a lump of apprehension. Her worst fears had become reality. She wanted to blurt out the truth, explain to Logan exactly why she was seeing Tate. But one look at the two of them standing on either side of the door and Abby recognized the impossibility of making any kind of explanation. Like rival warlords, the two blatantly dared each other to make the first move.
Logan loomed at her side, exuding bitterness, surprise, hurt, and anger. He held himself still and rigid.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Abby?” Tate spoke at last, making the statement a question.
“Fine.” Abby managed to find her voice, which was low and urgent. She wanted to scream at him to leave. If pride wasn’t dominating his actions, he’d recognize what a horrible position he was putting her in. Apparently, maintaining his pride was more important than the problem he was causing her. Abby’s eyes pleaded with Tate, but either he chose to ignore the silent entreaty or he didn’t understand what she was asking.
The enigmatic look on Tate’s face moved from Logan to Abby. “Will you be all right? Do you want me to stay?”
“Yes. No!” She nearly shouted with frustration. He’d read the look in her eyes as a plea for help. This was crazy. This whole situation was unreal.
“Tomorrow, then,” Tate said as he took a step in retreat.
“Tomorrow,” Abby confirmed, and gestured with her hand, begging him to leave.
He turned and stalked away.
Immobile, Abby stood where she was, waiting for Logan’s backlash.
“How long have you been seeing each other?” he asked with infuriating calm.
If he’d shouted and decried her actions, Abby would have felt better; she could have responded the same way. But his composed manner relayed far more adequately the extent of his anger.
“How long, Abby?” he repeated.
Her chin trembled and she shrugged.
His short laugh was derisive. “Your answer says quite a bit.”
“It’s not what you think,” she said hoarsely, desperately wanting to set everything straight.
His jaw tightened forbiddingly. “I suppose you’re going to tell me you and Tate are just good friends. If that’s the case, you can save your breath.”
“Logan.” Fighting back tears of frustration, Abby moved away from the door and turned to face him. “I need you to trust me in this.”
“Trust you!” His laugh was mocking. “I asked you to decide which one of us you wanted. You claimed you’d made your decision. You even went so far as to assure me you wouldn’t be seeing Tate again.” The intense anger darkened the shadows across his face, making the curve of his jaw look sharp and abrupt.
“I said I wouldn’t date him again,” she corrected.
“Don’t play word games with me,” he threw back at her. “You knew what I meant.”
She merely shook her head, incapable of arguing. Why couldn’t he trust her? Why hadn’t Tate just told him? Why, why, why.
“I suspected something yesterday at the game,” Logan continued wryly. “That guilty look was in your eyes again. But I didn’t want to believe what I was seeing.”
Abby lowered her gaze at the onrush of pain. This deception hadn’t been easy for her. But she was bound by her promise to Tate. She couldn’t explain the circumstances of their meetings to Logan; only Tate’s permission would allow her to do that. But Tate couldn’t risk his pride to that extent and she wouldn’t ask him to.
Logan’s short laugh was bitter with irony. “Yet when the doorbell rang, I knew immediately it was Tate. To be honest, I was almost glad, because it clears away the doubts in my mind.”
Determinedly, he started for the door, but Abby’s hand delayed him. “Don’t go,” she whispered. “Please.” Her fingers tightened around his arm, wanting to bind him to her forever, beginning with this moment. “I love you and…and if you love me, then you’ll trust me.”
“Love?” he repeated in a contemptuous voice. “You don’t know the meaning of the word.”
Stunned, Abby dropped her hand and with a supreme effort met his gaze without emotion. “If that’s what you think, maybe it would be better if you did leave.”
