wary of him. She shouldn’t let down her guard. Once they reached the porch, he set her legs down, reached into his pocket and came out with a set of keys. He inserted one into the lock and kicked open the front door. Then he picked her back up.
Moonlight streamed inside, illuminating the front room just enough to guide the way. Logan moved with the grace of a cat into the house, finding the parlor sofa easily. He lowered her gently onto her backside. With her arms still locked around his neck, Logan’s face came within inches of hers and their gazes met through the darkness. A brief moment passed between them. The dark coolness in his eyes blazed now with heat so strong, memories flooded Sophia’s mind of the one blissful, wonderful, sizzling kiss they’d shared so long ago. Her stomach stopped aching for a short time and she became mesmerized by the possibility that was Logan Slade. But just as her mind wrapped around the idea, the heat in Logan’s eyes offering that possibility died away, replaced again by a cold, unreadable stare. Sophia swallowed hard, relinquishing the moment to foolishness.
Logan unlocked her arms from around his neck and rose to full height. “I’ll be right back.”
She lay her head down on the arm of the sofa and listened as he went to his truck. When he returned, he flipped on a lamp on the end table. Soft light flowed into the room. Standing over her, he lifted her hand in his and plopped two round pink tablets down in her palm. “Take these first,” he said.
She stared at them.
“They will help,” he offered, his voice gruff.
They might be poison for all she knew, but she was pretty sure they were antacids, and though she was certain they wouldn’t help, she lifted them to her lips, opened her mouth and chewed. They went down like chalk and made her mouth dry.
“Now,” Logan said, “Take a swig of this.”
He bent onto his knees by the sofa. With a gentle hand, he lifted her head and guided a pink bottle to her lips.
She shook her head. Mixing medications wasn’t wise. “I don’t think so.”
He leaned back a little, holding the bottle away from her. “Trust me on this, it works. I’ve been where you are now. Why do you suppose I carry this stuff in my truck on Kickin’ days?”
Sophia closed her eyes to the look of concern on Logan’s face. It didn’t make sense that he would try to help her. He detested her and wanted her gone yesterday. How could she trust him?
Another cutting pain seized her stomach. “Oh.”
His hand, still nestled in her hair, lifted her head up a little more. “C’mon, Sophia. Just drink it.”
She bit the bullet and gave him her trust, craning her neck forward. He tipped the bottle, and she sipped from it a few times.
“That’s good,” he said. “Give it a few minutes.”
She lay her head down after swallowing the awful liquid. “You don’t have to stay.”
Once again, he ignored her comment. He rose and walked off. She listened for the front door to close, hoping that he’d leave, but instead she heard him fidgeting around in the kitchen. He turned on the microwave. The thought of food of any sort made her queasy.
Her eyes drifted closed and only when she felt something warm being placed on her belly, did she open them again. The warmed dishtowel acted much like a heating pad and soon, between the meds and the heat, the gripping pain in her stomach began to ease.
“You should take a warm bath later,” he said.
She lifted her gaze to Logan’s face.
“Of course, I’d offer to do that with you, too,” he said, the momentary flicker of heat once again in his eyes, “but I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well.”
It hurt to smile, but Sophia managed to anyway. “You’ll never know.”
“The way I didn’t know you were going to be sick?”
Humiliation mixed with anger and Sophia hinged her body forward to get up from the sofa. “Is that why you’re here? To rub my nose in it?”
He laid a hand
Moonlight streamed inside, illuminating the front room just enough to guide the way. Logan moved with the grace of a cat into the house, finding the parlor sofa easily. He lowered her gently onto her backside. With her arms still locked around his neck, Logan’s face came within inches of hers and their gazes met through the darkness. A brief moment passed between them. The dark coolness in his eyes blazed now with heat so strong, memories flooded Sophia’s mind of the one blissful, wonderful, sizzling kiss they’d shared so long ago. Her stomach stopped aching for a short time and she became mesmerized by the possibility that was Logan Slade. But just as her mind wrapped around the idea, the heat in Logan’s eyes offering that possibility died away, replaced again by a cold, unreadable stare. Sophia swallowed hard, relinquishing the moment to foolishness.
Logan unlocked her arms from around his neck and rose to full height. “I’ll be right back.”
She lay her head down on the arm of the sofa and listened as he went to his truck. When he returned, he flipped on a lamp on the end table. Soft light flowed into the room. Standing over her, he lifted her hand in his and plopped two round pink tablets down in her palm. “Take these first,” he said.
She stared at them.
“They will help,” he offered, his voice gruff.
They might be poison for all she knew, but she was pretty sure they were antacids, and though she was certain they wouldn’t help, she lifted them to her lips, opened her mouth and chewed. They went down like chalk and made her mouth dry.
“Now,” Logan said, “Take a swig of this.”
He bent onto his knees by the sofa. With a gentle hand, he lifted her head and guided a pink bottle to her lips.
She shook her head. Mixing medications wasn’t wise. “I don’t think so.”
He leaned back a little, holding the bottle away from her. “Trust me on this, it works. I’ve been where you are now. Why do you suppose I carry this stuff in my truck on Kickin’ days?”
Sophia closed her eyes to the look of concern on Logan’s face. It didn’t make sense that he would try to help her. He detested her and wanted her gone yesterday. How could she trust him?
Another cutting pain seized her stomach. “Oh.”
His hand, still nestled in her hair, lifted her head up a little more. “C’mon, Sophia. Just drink it.”
She bit the bullet and gave him her trust, craning her neck forward. He tipped the bottle, and she sipped from it a few times.
“That’s good,” he said. “Give it a few minutes.”
She lay her head down after swallowing the awful liquid. “You don’t have to stay.”
Once again, he ignored her comment. He rose and walked off. She listened for the front door to close, hoping that he’d leave, but instead she heard him fidgeting around in the kitchen. He turned on the microwave. The thought of food of any sort made her queasy.
Her eyes drifted closed and only when she felt something warm being placed on her belly, did she open them again. The warmed dishtowel acted much like a heating pad and soon, between the meds and the heat, the gripping pain in her stomach began to ease.
“You should take a warm bath later,” he said.
She lifted her gaze to Logan’s face.
“Of course, I’d offer to do that with you, too,” he said, the momentary flicker of heat once again in his eyes, “but I’ve got a feeling that wouldn’t go over too well.”
It hurt to smile, but Sophia managed to anyway. “You’ll never know.”
“The way I didn’t know you were going to be sick?”
Humiliation mixed with anger and Sophia hinged her body forward to get up from the sofa. “Is that why you’re here? To rub my nose in it?”
He laid a hand
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