Page 14

I t’s been a couple of days since I’ve last seen Logan.

The last we spoke involved a hose, water, and a large, hard, man organ.

Are we too embarrassed to even look at each other?

Though after having time to calm down, whatever burning sensation eating me alive has diminished. An honest mistake, really. Laughable.

Only… I’m not laughing.

He’s packing serious hardware, and I felt it. He doesn’t need to be embarrassed. Honestly, he deserves to brag. It’s impressive. But a lot about Logan is impressive.

And there goes the hum of my vagina again. I’m only human. A woman drowning in lust. So, my reaction is completely valid.

Logan must have spent the night at the garage.

Although I could have sworn he said the shop is being painted.

But his truck has been gone every night since.

Not that I paid attention. Not me missing his company on the balcony.

Or the café, where I eagerly waited for him to show up so I could grab his usual, which apparently wasn’t his usual until it was .

I’m not making any sense.

But I need to stop wondering why he’s been absent. The hammering thoughts are putting a damper on my day.

The café is closed on Sundays. A day of rest, per Shelby’s words.

But resting for me involves checking emails she sent over to finish my employment process.

My social calendar isn’t exactly full these days, so this is the extent of my excitement.

It makes me worry, considering Jason monitored all my outgoing activity at the mansion.

I sit at the kitchen table and log in on one of Lana’s older phones she gave me. Is it risky? Yes. But did I have any knowledge of Jason tracking my activity? No.

The first unopened email is, in fact, the employment papers. Honestly, I’m surprised Shelby owned a computer because of the shop’s ancient technology. Unless she used the library’s, which is my guess.

Filling out the paperwork is simple except for the part of my last name. What name am I going to use? My maiden or married? Obviously, using either name will be an issue.

When scrolling through more, I come across an unfamiliar email. The address is unknown, and I haven’t got a clue who it can be. Probably spam. Or maybe not. My finger hovers over the name I did not recognize before I hit delete and log out.

If I pretend it doesn’t exist, it’ll go away. At least, I’d like to believe so.

Lana comes traipsing downstairs in a short, flowy sundress. Her long black hair waving down her back. “Get dressed because you’re coming with me to the opening of the summer festival.”

“I didn’t know there’s a festival happening.”

“Every year at this time, small vendors show up and they have like a Ferris wheel and everything. It’s basically an excuse to throw an event for summer.”

“Sounds fun. But I have nothing pretty like that to wear. I still need to go shopping for dresses.”

“I already left you one on your bed.” She smirks.

“Because you were so sure I’d say yes?”

“Duh. Besides, what else do you have planned for today? It’s gorgeous outside, and this is the perfect way for the town people to get to know you. And once they do, I know they will love you as much as I do.” Her sweet words make me smile.

The thought of being in a sizeable crowd does make me nervous, but I can’t stay hidden forever. That’s in the past. Not my future. I need to make myself a part of Sunlight Creek. Otherwise, I'll remain the target of lingering looks.

I contemplate the invitation. “That would be a good idea.”

“Great! Now go upstairs and change.”

I scoff, shaking my head on the way. “You’re so bossy.”

“Only when I’m hungry,” Lana states, shooing a hand at me.

I rush upstairs and slip into the dress Lana picked for me. It’s similar in length and flow but hugs me a little tighter in the bust and waist area. After fixing my makeup and hair, I meet Lana downstairs.

As soon as we arrive at the festival, more questionable looks shoot my way. I am grateful to the ones who sent me a polite smile, but others are more apprehensive. I nervously tuck my hair behind my ear, staying close to Lana.

She was right. Many vendors line the town circle.

Food. Arts and crafts. And in the small distance stands the Ferris wheel.

My eyes light up like a child in a toy store.

I’ve never ridden one before. In fact, I’ve never been on any type of carnival or amusement park ride.

I haven’t gone to anything like this growing up.

Mainly because my father was too busy working or showing me how to perfect an electric mixer.

“Come on. I spot a corn dog with my name on it.” Lana pulls me along while I take in more of the townies.

When my gaze stops on a familiar man who’s standing with a scowl on his face, my heart plummets to my feet. For a split second, I thought it might be Jason, but the features are different, and I now recognize him.

Mark.

“Ignore him. He’s probably still sulking over our breakup.” Apparently, she noticed him too.

Lana finishes pulling me with her to the food truck, and I blame my nerves for not being hungry. She takes her corn dog from the man and smothers it with mustard.

“That looks disgusting,” I tease. But really, it does.

“Are you kidding? It’s the best. You’ve never tried a smothered corn dog with mustard before?” Lana takes a bite, and the left-over yellow condiment rests on the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll be sure to put it on my bucket list.”

Sure, I’ve had a corn dog growing up, but I hate mustard.

Lana stops mid-chew like a deer in headlights, her eyes turning a shade of gray as she stares beside me.

“Ladies.” A familiar voice sounds to my right. Crew’s presence is impossible to miss.

He takes a slide to his right, gaining a couple of inches of distance on Lana. His tall frame hovers above us like we are mice, and he’s the hawk. He’s like Logan. Not bulky, but still built and veiny. You can just tell he’s also sporting a six-pack under his black T-shirt.

His brow piercing remains, a strand of dark hair resting upon it. The sides of his hair are buzzed short, the top left longer. His green eyes are extra poppy today, too.

“Hey, Crew.” I give him a polite wave.

“Sora. You’re looking extra lovely today,” he coyishly says, then turns his attention to Lana. “Lana darling, you have something on your mouth.” He reaches up, swiping the mustard away with his thumb before his lips wrap around it, sucking it off.

Lana stands there motionless with a look of disgust. “Don’t you have other women to harass, or are we just the lucky ones?”

“I’m offended you’d think so low of me.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” she jabs, causing a smirk to rise on Crew’s handsome face. “What are you doing here, anyway? You don’t live in this town and fun and friendly festivals don’t seem to be your thing,” Lana quips, refraining from taking another bite of her corn dog.

My eyes dart between them both and suddenly standing here feels like I’m intruding on something.

“Guess you don’t know me at all. Lucky for you, killer, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

Lana’s lips curl up into a faint snarl. “How exciting. If you see me running the other way, don’t take it personally.”

Crew throws his head back and laughs, his strong neck hidden behind his tattoos.

“You’re a spitfire, Lana Dawson.” He turns, looking past the town gazebo.

“Our boy over there is helping Mrs. Clark set up her tent, but a pesky little nuisance has sunk her claws into him,” he says while looking at me.

“I’d save him myself, but I have business to deal with. ”

“What’s that… robbing children of their candy?” Lana scoffs, a chuckle sounding from the distance as Crew walks away.

“Prick,” she mutters under her breath.

Not having the slightest idea what is up with those two, I turn my attention over to Logan, the mystery woman, and Mrs. Clark, who’s unloading boxes.

He’s busy not wanting to be bothered by the other woman or not wanting her to be the one bothering him.

Logan’s pretending she’s not there even though she’s running her hand slowly and seductively down his arm, but he doesn’t seem to be enjoying it.

That alone oddly satisfies me. But a certain something swirls around in my chest, like possible jealously.

I’ll just pretend that the funny notion doesn’t exist, continuing to ignore it.

However, with sudden courage, I take a step forward. “I think I’ll go say hi.”

“Be sure to give Logan my love.” Lana grins, waving me off.

My wedges clunk against the cement path leading me to where Logan is, remembering I haven’t spoken to him or seen him. This might be awkward, but I don’t care. I stop beside Logan, grabbing the attention of all three.

Mrs. Clark throws me a wide smile. She looks to be in her late fifties with a pixie cut, wearing a bohemian style fashion.

“Hi. I’m Sora. A good friend of Lana’s.” I wanted to add Logan to that, but I’m not sure if we’re recognizing ourselves as friends yet.

Logan shuffles, finishing setting the tent poles into place. His muscles flex with every hard push. He takes a long glance at me, his eyes soaking me in like the sun.

“Oh yes! Shelby has told me so much about you. She hasn’t stopped raving about your desserts.”

“I’m glad she likes them.” I smile shyly, trying to hide the heat rising on my face.

“Likes them? Please. The whole town is talking about them. Shelby also said how wonderfully sweet you are. You’re welcome around here anytime. My shop is right down from the café.”

Good news, the entire town doesn’t hate me.

I glance at her pretty jewelry. “I’ll definitely have to stop by. These are stunning.” By the intricate details, I can tell they must have taken forever to craft.