Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 (26 page)

Or a long, cold shower. Two of them, maybe.

Anything to keep from thinking of Anna's smile and his ridiculous reaction, or the fact that what he truly wanted was to sit on the couch with her in his arms, their bodies entwined, and with the feel of her head on his chest. So he could do nothing but close his eyes, hold her tight, block out the rest of the world and his concerns and listen to her breathe.

The image, the damn
want
, sucker punched him straight in the gut with a potent combination of raw irritation and numbing fear.

Logan did not like doubting himself. He despised not being in control of his own reactions. He was not that type of a man. Or, at least, he never had been in the past. But when a woman's smile was akin to being handed a boarding pass for a runaway train, and that woman was the mother of his unborn daughter, he was left in a position of utmost weakness.

Now in the car, Logan fired up the engine, leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. The conversation he'd had with his brother replayed in his mind. Well, nothing had changed there. He still believed in the rules and the guidelines and the goals that Anna and he had worked so hard to create. He still believed they could make this partnership a success.

But he had to come up with a new method, or a set of new rules and guidelines to sift into what was already there, in order to keep himself grounded until his daughter was born. Until he could discern if any of this madness—his thoughts and feelings toward Anna—stuck around.

Because right now, he just didn't trust that they would.

Chapter Six

M
oody. Temperamental.
Infuriating.

Three words that, as of the prior two weeks, described Logan to a T. It seemed that nothing in his world, including Anna, made him happy. The sun shone too bright. The wind blew too strong. The coffee tasted bitter. Anna was either too talkative or, the few times she'd attempted to read a book or a magazine in the same room he was in, her breathing was too loud.

When she mentioned buying a Christmas tree, he stated there wasn't enough room for a proper one, and he'd likely be in Wyoming for the holiday anyway. He didn't invite her along, which was just as well. If he had, she'd have said no. Who wanted to celebrate Christmas with the Grinch? Still, she wanted a tree, so she bought a tiny, four-foot, pre-lit artificial one, which she decorated when he wasn't in the house to cause her any grief.

And oh, had he frowned at her little tree, but he'd wisely kept his mouth shut.

In addition, he'd started skipping breakfast altogether, and rather than eating dinner at the table with her, as had quickly become their custom, he'd take his plate to his desk, claiming work responsibilities. And there he'd remain for the rest of the night. Unless her talking or breathing proved so disruptive that he'd unplug his laptop and hightail it to his bedroom.

She didn't know why, but their silent camaraderie had suddenly vanished, leaving behind a wake of uncomfortable, bordering on cold, distant awkwardness. Initially, Anna figured whatever was bothering Logan would work itself out, so she gave him space. Since she knew next to nothing about his responsibilities at the ranch, it seemed fair to extend a little grace.

But now, as of today, she'd had enough.

She was done with tiptoeing around, being afraid to breathe or talk or make any type of sound whatsoever, due to Logan and his...moods. Hadn't she done enough of all that as a kid, when she didn't have a single choice in the matter and she was too afraid of irritating her father to do anything other than becoming as invisible as possible?

Yes, she had, and while she couldn't fully compare the two men's behavior—Earl Rockwood's was over-the-top extreme and Logan's was merely, if deeply, annoying—the effect on her
was
the same. Here she was, once again hiding out in her room, feeling like an interloper in a house that was supposed to be her home, squelching her voice and minimizing herself. All in order to retain some semblance of peace.

And last night, she'd sat on the couch watching television with the volume so low, she could barely hear the program, while he'd stared in intense silence at his laptop screen, and she caught herself attempting to plan her week's schedule with the express goal of avoidance in mind. A bucket of ice-cold water might as well have dumped straight on her head.

Without full realization, she had put herself in the same type of pattern she'd used as a child to deal with the loss of her mother and her father's resulting erratic mood swings. When she was younger, she had zero ability or power to change her living situation. The same could not be said now. As an adult, the control was in her hands, and therefore, Logan's two weeks of space and grace were about to come to a crashing end. Whether he liked it or not.

Anna retrieved the orange juice from the fridge, which she set on the table with the French toast and sliced strawberries she'd prepared for breakfast. This morning, despite any of his objections, they
were
eating together. And, one way or the other, they would have an actual conversation.

She hadn't seen Logan yet this morning, but she'd heard him go into the bathroom for his shower thirty minutes ago. He'd appear soon, and if the food wasn't piping hot, oh well. She'd purposely prepared the French toast early so her attention wouldn't be divided between him and cooking. No way would he ease in, say a few terse words, grab his coffee and leave.

When the table was ready, she leaned against the counter—directly in front of the coffeepot—and crossed her arms in a defensive stance. As it turned out, she didn't have to wait long. No more than two minutes passed before Logan entered the kitchen, wearing gray jeans and a thick black cabled sweater. He hadn't shaved, so the slight bristle along his jaw gave him that rough-and-tumble, outdoorsy and all-too-masculine look. She tried to pretend that she didn't notice his enormous sex appeal or how darn handsome a man he actually was.

Those types of thoughts would just derail her objective. Fast.

“Morning,” she said in a bright tone. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept fine.” Then, apparently noting breakfast on the set-for-two table, he glowered. “I don't have time to eat. I told Gavin I'd be by early to help with—”

“Oh, I'm sure your brother will understand if you're a little late.” She smiled as wide and full as she could, which for some ridiculous reason increased the gloom-and-doom glower currently decorating his craggy face. It annoyed her, so she widened her smile another fraction. “I can call Haley, if you like, let her know you're having breakfast before heading over.”

“No, that isn't necessary.” Logan moved forward and reached around her to retrieve his travel coffee cup. “I...er...appreciate the effort you've made here, but I have to take off.”

The look in his eyes almost halted Anna's focus. They were far more a steely, uncompromising gray than blue today, and while they weren't cold, exactly, they certainly weren't warm, either.
Flat
was a fitting description, maybe. As if he wasn't really seeing her.

Traitorous emotion welled in her heart, strong and pervasive. She
wasn't
invisible. She wasn't mute. And she wouldn't allow Logan to make her feel as if she were.

“Oh, no you don't,” she said, temper leaking into her voice. That was fine. Temper was better than tears. “Look at me, Logan. I'm asking you to eat breakfast with me so we can talk and maybe get back to where we were a few weeks ago. Because guess what? I don't want our baby to come into this world with two parents who are barely speaking to each other!”

Whoa. She hadn't meant to come out of the gate swinging.

Logan blinked, and for a millisecond, she recognized distress in his gaze. He blinked again, and that flat, emotionless mask reappeared. “What are you talking about?” he asked. “I am looking at you, and yeah, you're standing right there, making it awfully difficult for me to get my coffee. And I have no idea what you mean. Nothing has changed on my end. We're fine.”

“Will you please just stop with the pretending?” she said through gritted teeth. “For some reason unknown to me, you've become a...a cantankerous old man, griping about everything from the sun to the way I breathe. Something
has
changed and we are
not
fine, and I'm not about to let you leave without getting to the bottom of this. Without trying to fix this.”

“There isn't anything to fix,” he said tersely. “I'm busy, Anna. I have a lot of responsibilities and perhaps I've been...quieter than normal, but I most certainly am not behaving like a cantankerous old man. And sweetheart, unless you plan on hitting me over the head with your cast-iron skillet, you can't stop me from leaving.”

“You know what,
babycakes
?” she said, wholly irritated by his sarcastic use of a term of endearment. “Maybe I can't. I would like us to have a conversation, and yep, you can choose to ignore my wishes and leave. But—” Anna pulled in a breath to steady her nerves and calm her thumping heart “—this isn't working and I'm unhappy. Very unhappy, Logan.”

“I don't want you to be unhappy.” As he spoke, he started to reach behind her for the coffeepot. She sidestepped into his path, effectively blocking him. He frowned. “And I hate that you are, but have you considered that perhaps this is simply an overreaction on your part? Due to being pregnant and the...ah...hormonal changes going on inside your body?”

Fury—yes, fury—roared in with a vengeance. How dare he suggest that her pregnancy hormones were the cause for
his
actions? Suddenly, the idea of conking him over the head seemed a much more proactive solution than simply talking.

“Please tell me,” she said, “that I heard you incorrectly and that you didn't just try to put the blame on me, instead of owning your behavior and taking responsibility?”

“I'm not casting blame. Just pointing out an alternate view.”

“Uh-huh. Well, look,” she said, the words spitting out of her mouth like gunfire, “I'm not living this way anymore, so if it really bothers you that I'm unhappy, then I suggest you sit down, eat the breakfast I made for us and...oh, I don't know,
talk to me
.”

She stared at him and he stared right back, but neither said a word. He was, she assumed, considering her statement and debating whether any wiggle room existed.

“Of course it bothers me, but I'm unsure of what there is to talk about,” he said. “The facts are simple. I'm busy. My responsibilities are vast, but they're mine.”

With that, Logan stepped forward and, with his free hand, pushed her gently to the side with incredible ease, even though she tried to maintain her stance. And that irritated her all the more. “Don't you dare move me aside as if I'm nothing more than a...a—”

“I'm sorry, but you were purposely blocking the coffee to delay my departure,” Logan said, his voice gruff and uneven. “I'm out of time as I'm already late, and I made a promise to Gavin. I just... I really need to go, Anna.”

“A promise to your brother?” Anna raised her chin a notch and firmed her shoulders. “I believe your promise to me—everything we agreed on going into this marriage—supersedes this particular promise to Gavin. And...and I have choices, too, Logan.” She swallowed and pushed out the words she didn't really want to say. “I don't have to be here when you return.”

His head reeled back as if she had, indeed, clobbered him with her frying pan. A wounded expression crossed his face, and guilt for hurting him almost had her taking back her words and apologizing. She hated causing him pain, but this was important. So she kept her mouth shut and waited for his response.

After what felt like an eternity, he said, “You'd really leave? We have an agreement, or have you forgotten?”

“You mean the agreement that stipulates an actual partnership between us? Because if so, you're not living up to your end of the bargain. You've been moody and argumentative and distant,” she said, reminding herself to remain strong and unyielding. “I no longer feel welcome here, and I'm beginning to wonder if this marriage and our arrangement were a huge mistake.”

“No, Anna. None of this is a mistake.” He closed his eyes and sighed. And in that minuscule huff of air, she heard regret. Sorrow. And her hope returned. “I don't want you to leave. I don't want you to give up, and I... Has it really been that bad?”

God. The pain in his voice almost undid her, but she held on to her resolve. “Yes. You've made me feel invisible, and I can't feel that way, Logan. I just can't.”

She could see that her words, her tone, jolted him again, and his shoulders slumped. “You're not invisible, Anna. Not in any way at all. Lord, I've screwed up, when all I was trying to do was keep everything...as stable and uncomplicated as possible.”

“Nothing about the past few weeks has been uncomplicated,” Anna said, trying to understand. “Your distance has hurt me, and it's worse because I don't know why.”

“I never want to hurt you. Never. And I hope—” he turned, looked her in the eyes “—I truly hope that even if I don't deserve it, you'll give me another chance at making this right.”

“That's what I'm trying to do,” she said. “What I've been trying to do all morning. If we're really in this together, as you've said repeatedly, then you have to communicate when something is bothering you. You have to let me in, Logan. At least a little.”

Again, their gazes stayed glued together for what seemed forever before Logan nodded. “You're right. I've been a bear. The ranch is consuming a lot of my time, and it hasn't been easy, trying to keep abreast of everything while I'm here. My grandfather is being obstinate and making life difficult for everyone else. And...well, there's the baby.”

Anna's heart dropped to her toes. “What about the baby?”

“Nerves, I guess. About the type of father I'll be.” The admission seemed to embarrass Logan, but Anna understood the worry. “I'm afraid I'll let her down. Let you down, too, and I guess I became overwhelmed. I don't know exactly, but I haven't handled the pressure well.”

She had to swallow again, to push down the emotions clogging her throat. “Now see, letting me in wasn't so hard, was it?” Anna brushed her fingers along Logan's jaw. “I worry about what type of mother I'll be. It's natural when we want to give our daughter the best. But that's why we're in this together, and that's why we need to talk to each other. I don't want to leave, Logan. Giving up is not my first choice.”

Relief entered his gaze. “Thank you,” he said, “for—” And of course his darn phone buzzed at that precise second. Neither had to look to know who was calling.

“It's your brother,” Anna said. “Probably wondering where you're at.”

“Doesn't matter. I'll stay,” Logan said. “Gavin can get along without me. I'll just... Give me a second to reschedule.”

“No. It's okay,” she said. And for the moment, it was. He was willing to stay, and he'd let her in enough to shore up their foundation. It probably would do them good to have a little time now to consider what was said and how to move forward. “I'm feeling a lot better about us. Tell Gavin you're on your way.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure. Just don't come home and return to your cantankerous self. We can't go back to that. If you can promise me that won't happen, then yes, I'm sure.”