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For Kicks Page 5
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Page 5
She gave the desk clerk her name and got out her expense card. Before this trip, she’d accessed her expense account exactly four times, all for business lunches with traveling managers. Now she pulled it out four times a day.
“That’s already been taken care of, Miss Cohen.”
Breeze blinked, twice. That was different. Her day had been the same down to the pretzels the flight attendant had given her on the plane. The desk clerk placed a paper folder on the counter in front of her, circled her room and the elevator to use to get there. Her key card was slid into the paper jacket as her mind came up with questions. That room looked twice as big as the ones she usually stayed in.
Being Saturday, she’d stay two nights here. Best-sets were never held on Sundays. It would be great to have a nicer room since she’d be spending more time here, but she didn’t want to deal with the hassle of explaining it to the accounting department later.
“I think there may have been a mistake. My company has a corporate plan. That room looks like a suite.” Though with as much as she’d been traveling they should give her some frequent-guest perks.
“The gentleman said you would need the extra space to work in.”
“Gentleman?” Her heart stalled in her chest. Just who had come to work with her?
“Mr. Chandler made the change when he arrived this afternoon.”
Logan? Logan was here? Her pulse started to tap dance. What was she supposed to do? Demand another room? Take her chances with Logan?
Curiosity niggled her brain, a mind that had spent the last week so ingrained in monotony it welcomed the slightest spark.
“Thank you. I’d completely forgotten.” Breeze took her folder and made her way to the elevator. The doors closed when she hit the button for her floor and she nearly panicked.
What was she thinking? No, what was he thinking?
Oh, she knew what he must think. But what in the world gave him the impression she wanted to share a room with him? Sure, she liked him, but she’d made it clear there wasn’t going to be anything more than business between them until after the project closed. She may have blurred that line when she’d spent too long kissing him at her condo, but the line was still there in the sand.
The painfully slow elevator gave her time to admit that he’d called twice a day since she left, and he didn’t have to. She’d listened to every one of his messages, but had only answered him through e-mail to make it less personal. It wasn’t as if he could read her mind and knew the reason she fell asleep so quickly each night was because of the promise of dreams he starred in.
She followed all the rules. Why couldn’t he? If he wanted to be with her so badly, then it would keep until she returned home and this project was over. Though, even she had to recognize the anger fuming as the elevator rose hid a different emotion. One she did not care to deal with for at least another two weeks.
As the elevator doors parted, she came to her senses. She needed to get another room. To heck with being embarrassed, she needed to march back downstairs and say it was all a big misunderstanding. They needed separate spaces, and to sleep with some reinforced steel between them.
She stepped out of the elevator and looked down the hall. Suddenly, in her world of sameness, everything was different. So accustomed to seeing the doors line up one after the other, she let out a sigh at the vast expanse of space between the doors on this floor. She promptly walked to the room with the number she’d memorized.
Did that mean she wanted something to happen? She shook her head. No, this was purely practical. She wanted a change. And they had business to discuss. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath as her stomach knotted and she slid her card through the slot, unlocking the door.
The room was easily twice the size of the standard room Breeze had grown so accustomed to. And not a bed in sight. Drapes were pulled back from a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, revealing the edges of neighboring buildings and city lights.
On one side of the room, just past the overstuffed sofa and fireplace, was an open door. The other side of the room held a table larger than the one in her parents’ dining room. The eight chairs spaced around it sat on an elegant oriental rug. Beyond the table was another door. Was that the bedroom, she wondered, suddenly unsure where all the air in the room had gone.
“I thought I heard you come in.”
She spun around to see Logan smiling, standing in the doorway on the opposite side of the room. That smile. Why was his grin infectious? Why did his smile squelch her indignation and always leave her momentarily speechless?
“I brought presents.” He stepped into the room and she clutched the handle of her suitcase tighter.
“Presents?”
“One from Nitrous and one from Anthony.” He crossed the room in front of her, opened the door at the opposite side of the room and flipped on the light.
“Anthony?” Her chest tightened. What had he done?
“Yes, Anthony.” He walked to her with a step so slow she knew it was deliberate. “We got a shipment of Kicks and I wanted to make sure I’d have your size with me, so I called. He said you’d be out of clean clothes and asked me to bring you a fresh bag.”
“Anthony.” She shook her head and bit her lip. She wanted clean clothes, but she didn’t want the rumors to start.
“I put it in your room.” He pointed to the door he’d just opened.
Two bedrooms. Tension released from her in a sigh. A beautiful room, clean clothes and someone to talk to rather than instruct. Maybe this could work.
She tried to maneuver around him with her rolling suitcase, but he blocked her way.
“I missed you.” He reached out for the handle, laying his hand over hers.
“Is that why you’re here?” She pulled her hand out from under his to let him take hold of her luggage and hiked her laptop bag higher on her shoulder.
“That’s why I found a reason to be here.”
He gifted her with that cocksure grin that would drop the panties of most women in under three seconds. Thank goodness, she wasn’t most women.
“I’ll write a progress report, and I have a meeting scheduled in Lexington. We have some major competition in Kentucky. It’s not like in Oregon, where Nitrous is the biggest Fortune-500 company. We’re still well known, but not as prevalent on the east coast.”
Perhaps he had come to work. Her overactive imagination was turning it into more. Still, as excited as one part of her was at his presence, years of wariness won out.
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for us to share a room.”
“That’s why our bags are in separate bedrooms.” He spoke with a slow, even precision that grated on her nerves. He had to know what she meant, and yet he brushed it aside as if it were nothing. “Unless you’re afraid of something. Think you can’t keep your hands to yourself?”
She gave him a please-disappear-from-the-earth smile. “Don’t you wish.”
Giving herself a mental shake, Breeze walked to her room. She felt Logan behind her, though he kept his distance.
Inside loomed an enormous bed. She could lie across it the wrong way and still fit. One wall boasted the same floor-to-ceiling windows and view of the night sky. On the opposite wall, a doorway led to what she assumed was the bathroom.
He set her bags at the foot of the bed and put his hands on his hips. “Have you eaten yet?”
“I’m not hungry. If you give me ten minutes to get settled, I can give you an update on the roll out.” She stepped to the desk next to the door, set her laptop bag on top and unloaded it. Stacking the books she’d collected, she plugged in her laptop, MP3 player and cell phone so they could recharge.
“There’s a whole side of you I’ve never seen.”
“There are a lot of sides of me you’ll never see.” She turned from the desk, not wanting to know what he meant. She pulled her suitcase and the one from Anthony onto the bed and unzipped them both.
“You certainly have a thing for flash cards
.”
She turned to watch Logan lift her latest discovery. Almost anything you wanted to learn about could be found in pocket-sized flash-card form. She shook her head and lifted the lids of the suitcases. She promptly closed the lid of the bag Anthony had packed. A black lace teddy sat on top of who knows what else. It could be Anthony being hopeful, or it could mean he suspected something.
“Will you do a reading for me?” In his hands he had flash cards for Tarot, palmistry, and numerology.
“I was curious about them. I’m not an expert. There’s not a lot to do on the plane so I picked up the decks at the airport bookstore. Buy two, get one free.” She pulled out what was still salvageable from her initial suitcase, laid the clothes on the bed and set the shoes in the closet. A big silver bag hung in the closet, the Nitrous logo printed on the front. “Is this my present from Nitrous?”
She carried the bag to the bed before opening it up. Two boxes of Kicks tumbled out, along with yoga pants, a stretchy tank top and a zippered jacket. She rubbed the soft material between her fingers.
“These aren’t from the Kicks line.”
“No, those are from me. Anthony said he was sending dresses and blouses, but he didn’t mention anything to relax in.” Logan thumbed through her astrology guide and her stomach clenched. “Hey, Breeze. What’s your sign?” He laughed, sending another smile her way.
“Leo. What about you?” She tried to meet his gaze, but he was busy thumbing through the book.
“Libra. But look at you. Sex and romance are essential to your happiness, Breeze.”
“What does it say about you?” she teased, returning to her presents and unpacking. In the bag from Logan were two pairs of fluffy slipper socks. Definitely not from Kicks, not even from Nitrous.
He snapped the book closed. “That settles it. I’m made for love. You need love. It’s in the stars, Breeze. Best not to fight fate.”
The sexy scent of his cologne grew stronger and she looked up to find him standing right beside her, so close she barely had time to duck away when he dipped his head.
“I don’t know what you thought this stunt would get you, Logan. But I’m not having sex with you.”
“Just try it.” Logan loaded the fork with chocolate and walnut Derby-Pie and held it up. The bustle of the busy hotel restaurant swirled beside their booth, giving Breeze just enough of a distraction to avoid looking at him. “When in Kentucky…”
“I’m really not hungry.” She crossed her arms over her chest, gripping the lavender zip-up jacket in her fingers. It fit perfectly. But then he had peeked at the sizes when he picked up the bag from Anthony. He shifted in his seat, remembering what Anthony had packed.
“Then try the julep.” He’d ordered straight bourbon for himself and the sweeter mint julep for Breeze. Not that she touched it. Simply getting her to come downstairs to the hotel restaurant was like pulling teeth. She seemed to think nine in the evening was an appropriate time to go to sleep.
“I don’t drink.” She continued to stare at the people coming and going in the busy lounge.
“Why not?”
She straightened her shoulders and turned to face him. “Because I just don’t, okay?”
“Nope.”
“What do you mean? It’s my body and what I do with it is my business.”
“So it’s a health thing.”
“No, I don’t… Fine, it’s a health thing.” She turned her attentions back to people watching.
“Julep or Derby-Pie. You have to experience something of Kentucky.” He held up the forkful and watched her narrow her eyes. “What was your favorite thing about Nebraska?”
“I was barely in Nebraska.”
“Illinois?”
“I didn’t see daylight in Illinois. Make your point, Logan.”
“You’re not making the most of this trip.” Or of your life. She was a bundle of energy wound so tightly he got a thrill just thinking of how she could redirect that power. She was fireworks waiting to happen, and he had a thing for playing with fire.
“It’s not a vacation. It’s work,” she spat at him. “And I am making the most of my time. I’ve listened to four books this week, read seven, plus there are my flash cards. I led twenty-six training classes and I’ve been to six best-sets. What have you done, Logan?”
“I swam each morning, went to work, wrangled Kellen’s publicity schedule with his manager, went rafting on the Willamette, won a couple hundred at my weekly poker game, blew that on presents for you, and spent every other ounce of energy trying to figure out how to meet up with you. My list is a lot more fun. And that is my point. When you work hard you need to play hard, and you need to have more fun.”
“Fun is fleeting. When you work hard the rewards keep coming.”
“But do you enjoy them?”
“Excuse me?” She rested her forearms on the table and leaned closer.
“I don’t think you do. I think that’s what your books and flash cards upstairs are all about. Something is missing, and you’re looking for it. But you can’t find it in the stars, or in a deck of cards, numbers, or even the palm of your hand.” He snatched her hand and held firm when she tried to tug it away. “Let me show you.”
“You are so full of yourself.”
“No, I just know how to have a good time.”
“I’m going to get my things and get my own room. You’re out of line.” She pulled at her arm again, her gaze darting about the room. If she were really protesting, would she be worried about making a scene?
“You want to be with me, and for some reason it scares you. So you hide behind work and your new-age flash cards and whatever else you can think of. Anything, but actually experiencing life, really feeling something. You deserve more. Take a sip, take a bite or kiss me. Your choice.”
“Excuse me?” This time when she pulled her hand away, he let her. But he held her gaze, daring her to prove him wrong.
Without looking away, she picked up the forkful of pie, laid it against her tongue and closed her lips over the tines, pulling them slowly from her mouth.
“Satisfied?”
“Not hardly. But happier. Every place you land, try a little something. You can’t handle monotony, Breeze. Keep this up and you’ll be crazy by the time you get home.”
“How do you know what I can and can’t handle? I’m doing just fine.”
“I know, because I’m the same way. And you’re not fine. You’re letting each city blend into the last. It’s a good thing you don’t drink, because then you wouldn’t know what town you’re in or what day it is.”
“It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.” She pulled the fork through the pie and took another bite.
“When I was playing soccer professionally, every town was the same. Our daily routine was working out, doing press and then partying. Every moment of my day was about being a professional athlete. It really messes with your head.”
She smiled and listened as he regaled her with some of his less embarrassing stories, relaxing with each laugh and bite of pie until the plate was clean.
“If I take one sip, will I get drunk?” She raised one eyebrow and swirled the ice in the glass.
“I doubt it.”
She took the daintiest of sips and then pushed the glass his way. “I thought bourbon was supposed to make you wince and cough.”
“Not good bourbon. And a julep has sugar and mint in it to smooth it out.” He drained the glass. “Plus, you let it sit all night, so it’s pretty watered down.”
He stood, tossing some bills on the table and then offering her a hand. “Shall we?”
“I’m still not having sex with you.” She stared up at him, not moving from her chair.
“Whatever you want.” He reached for her hands and pulled her up, her body flush against his.
She pulled back as if the contact burned her skin. With a shake of his head, he led her to the bank of elevators. Once the doors closed he tried to wrap an arm around her, but
she spun away.
“I told you, we’re not having sex. And I mean it.”
“Yeah, I got that. What did you think I was going to do?”
The elevator doors opened and she scampered down the hall. He followed behind, taking deep breaths and reminding himself to be patient.
He didn’t do patience well.
Following her through the door, he toed off his Kicks next to hers. “What did you think?”
“What am I supposed to think?” She turned in front of the bank of windows to face him. “You fly across the country, arrange for us to share a hotel room, bring me presents. You’re expecting me to…to…”
“I meant the Kicks.” He laughed and walked to the couch, settling down on it. “I get it, no sex. You don’t have to act like I’m a leper.”
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“Did I get the wrong idea at your apartment?”
She stepped to the edge of the sofa and peered down at him. “Why did you come?”
“I missed you.” He held out a hand and watched her eye it with trepidation. “There is something about you I can’t get enough of, and I want to find out what it is.”
“And when you do? What then?”
“I’m not following you.” He dropped his hand to his lap.
“It’s sex, Logan. We have really great chemistry, physical chemistry. But I’m not willing to risk my career for that.”
“What if it’s more than sex, Breeze?” Putting a leg up on the sofa, he twisted to face her. He barely knew what he was saying, just that he needed to push her, to challenge her. Or he might as well go home now. “That’s what you’re afraid of, right? That we’ll be more and you won’t know how to handle that.”
“I’m afraid you don’t understand. I don’t have sex, Logan. It’s nothing personal, I just don’t do it. It complicates life on a level I don’t have time to deal with.”
Logan ran a hand through his hair and tried to wrap his head around her words. No sex. He wanted to ask why and argue the point for going to bed together. But that was an argument for another day. After he got her to like him as much as he liked her.