Two Times as Hot (15 page)

“Hey, hey, it’s the Hunt brothers.” Tyler walked through the open door, chipper as
usual. “What’s going on in here? And why aren’t you drinking beer?”

“We’re cleaning. And it’s not even noon.” Being in an exceptionally piss poor mood,
Logan shot Tyler an annoyed look along with the answer to his questions. How could
this kid be in such a good mood all the time?

“It’s five o’clock somewhere.” Layne glanced up hopefully. “Beer is an excellent idea,
Ty. You bring any?”

“I could rustle some up, if need be. What’s with the sudden cleaning bug?” Tyler glanced
at the dusty items littering the floor of the garage.

“We’re probably going to sell the shop, and half of this shit in here will go with
it.” It bothered Logan more than he’d anticipated to say that out loud.

“Sell the shop?” Tyler frowned. “But your family’s owned Hunt’s for like ever.”

“I know, but what the hell else are we going to do?” Logan let out a breath and gave
up on the box he was sorting through. He stood and stretched his back, sore from bending
over.

“Why don’t you just have someone else run it for your father?” Tyler leaned back against
the cluttered workbench and crossed his arms.

Layne laughed. “You volunteering, Ty?”

“Yeah, maybe I am.” Tyler cocked a brow.

“Yeah, right. You. A shopkeeper. Ha! That’ll be the day.” Layne let out a snort.

“Why not?” Tyler shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got some ideas for what I’d like to do.”

“I thought you liked working at the ranch.” Logan frowned at Tyler. He was a cowboy
at heart. Breaking horses, loading stock. Occasionally sporting a new limp or broken
bone, but always with a smile because the injury was from doing what he loved. Standing
inside a storefront all day rather than being out in the open air and sun would kill
him.

“I do. I’m training cutting horses now. And we bought a few two-year-old bulls that
are pretty good buckers. We have hopes to put them into competition, but it’s not
my ranch. I’m just a hand. I want to work at something that’s
my
dream, not somebody else’s.”

“And running Dad’s store would fulfill your lifelong dream?” Logan knew Tyler and
his flighty nature well enough to take this new whim of his with a grain of salt.

“Maybe.” He shrugged. “I’ve been doing a lot of leatherwork. Making belts and stuff
for the other guys at the ranch. I’m pretty good at it. It would be nice to have a
shop to sell it at.”

Tyler making belts and wanting to be a shopkeeper. Layne giving Logan life advice.
Tuck getting remarried. It seemed Logan’s whole world had turned upside down.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. We’re not gonna decide anything today. Everything’s
still up in the air. Either way, keep it or sell it, we’re organizing this damn mess
of a garage. Got it?” Logan shot both of the younger guys a look, feeling every bit
of his thirty-nine years.

“Got it.” Layne nodded. Going back to work on his box of crap, he glanced at Tyler.
“So, when’s that crazy brother of yours coming home from his honeymoon?”

“Tomorrow,” Tyler answered.

“Good. I mean I’d like to see him once before I leave for Japan. Who the hell goes
on a three-week honeymoon, anyway?”

“A guy who has a ton of leave saved up because he never takes it,” Logan answered,
jealous of Tuck for being away and free of all the problems that had surrounded Logan
for weeks now.

Lucky for Logan, he was the same way as Tuck was about taking leave. He had plenty
of days stored up, and it looked as if he’d need them all to straighten out this situation
with the shop and the building. Thank God his father’s stroke had happened in the
summer. It was easier for him to take time off between semesters. He didn’t have to
transfer his duties as battalion commander to someone else. If there was such a thing
as a good time for this to have happened, it was now.

“And don’t forget Tuck now has a hot new wife,” Tyler added. “I don’t blame him for
wanting to hide out and keep her to himself for a month.”

Logan couldn’t help but remember that Becca also had a very hot sister. One he thought
about much too often, considering he didn’t know if or when he’d see her again.

Layne laughed. “Yeah, I’d like to meet her, too, since she managed to do the impossible
and get a wedding ring onto Tuck’s finger again.”

“You ain’t kidding.” Tyler laughed. “I never thought that was gonna happen. But anyway,
the happy newlyweds land late tomorrow. I’m picking them up at the airport. So, you’ll
still be around?”

“Yes, sir. I don’t leave until the day after tomorrow.” Layne smiled. “Damn, it’ll
be nice to see Tuck again. I haven’t seen him since before I left for Okinawa. I definitely
think this reunion will require that beer you were talking about.”

“I’m on it, dude. No worries. The adult beverages will be there. And wait until Tuck
sees that new ink you got in Japan. Man, is he gonna be jealous.” Tyler bobbed his
head at one of Layne’s arms. Exposed by the short sleeves of his T-shirt was a dancing
girl, inked in all the colors of the rainbow.

“Yeah, I’m happy with how this one turned out. Think the new wife will ever let Tuck
get another tattoo?” Layne asked.

Tyler laughed. “That’s currently up for debate, my friend. We’ll all have to wait
and see.”

As Tyler and Layne went on to compare tattoos, Logan couldn’t help but think this
could be exactly what he needed. A night spent out—or in—drinking and kicking back
with the guys. Maybe that would help him put the worries about his dad and the decision
about the store out of his mind for a while.

And perhaps, while they were hanging out, Tuck would let some news about Emma slip
out . . .

E
mma glanced at the caller ID and then answered her ringing cell phone. “About time
you called me.”

Becca let out a humph. “Hello to you, too. And yes, my loving sister, I had a lovely
honeymoon. Thank you so much for asking.”

“Don’t get snippy with me. I don’t think it’s too much to expect a phone call.” Emma
sighed, feeling bad. “But I’m glad you and Tuck had a good time. Really. I am.”

“What’s wrong? You don’t sound good. Did something happen while I was away?”

Besides Emma cursing and hating the whole world one moment, and feeling as if she
could cry the next?

“No, not really.” Nothing had happened. That was the problem. Becca hadn’t called.
Logan hadn’t called. Emma’s boring life was the same as it had always been. All while
her sister was off having the time of her life with her new husband. “But really,
Becs. It would have been nice if you’d called once or twice during the entire month
you were away.”

“It was three weeks, not a month, and I called you the moment I stepped foot here
in Tuck’s parents’ house. Look, I’m sorry, but when Tuck and I landed in Hawaii, we
made a deal. No cell phones. No Facebook or Twitter or anything to do with the Internet
or technology or the outside world. Just the two of us.”

“Must be nice.” Emma let out a snort. “But you could have let us loved ones left at
home know that.”

“Tuck’s mom had the name of our hotel in case there was an emergency and they needed
to get in touch with us. Why are you in such a bitchy mood? Are you PMSING?”

“Maybe.” Emma sighed.

That would be good actually. If hormones were to blame for Emma’s persistent moodiness,
at least that meant it would pass. Emma was tired of feeling like this. Crying over
the sappy, B-star, made-for-cable TV movies she couldn’t seem to stop watching. Then
getting angry over something tiny the next. This morning she’d yelled at the coffeemaker
for beeping at her when she forgot to put the filter basket back in. Not that the
machine could hear her, and it had been her own fault, but irrational as she’d been
lately, she’d yelled at the innocent appliance anyway.

“I took so many pictures. I can’t wait for you see them. Hawaii was so gorgeous, I
can’t even begin to tell you.” As Becca launched into a story about the beaches she
and Tuck had gone to, Emma walked to the calendar hanging on the wall of her kitchen.

She half listened to her sister while searching the numbered boxes, looking for the
one marked in pen with an X. She frowned. Had she forgotten to mark when to expect
her period this month? Cradling the phone on one shoulder, Emma took the calendar
off the hook and flipped back to the prior month. There it was. The big X marked on
a date last week.

Last week? She was late. Emma drew in a sharp breath.

Becca paused in her honeymoon tale. “What’s wrong? Emma?”

“Uh, nothing. Sorry. I just realized I forgot to pay my credit card bill and I, uh,
thought for a second it might be late.”

Late. Oh my God, she was late.

“Is it?”

“Uh, no. I have time. Go on with your story.” Holy shit. Three days late. She was
never even a day late. Looking back at the date of the last time she’d had her period,
she counted forward. She’d landed in Oklahoma thirteen days into her cycle. Unlucky
thirteen. During her most fertile time of the month, she had been in a hotel room
in Oklahoma having sex with Logan for about twelve hours straight.

But they’d used protection every time. Hadn’t they? He had that whole strip of condoms.
He’d worn one every time they’d had sex during that night—and the next morning. Hadn’t
he?

The shower
.

Emma held back another gasp at that realization. In his haste to get her into the
shower, Logan hadn’t brought any condoms with them into the bathroom. She remembered
the taste of him as he slid in and out of her mouth. His whole body shaking as he
tried not to come. How he finally had, and then had spun her around and taken her
again.

They were both dripping wet, so rather than get out and run to the bedroom to get
a condom, they’d counted on alternative means of birth control. She remembered the
feel of his hands, gripping her hips from behind her as she bent at the waist and
braced against the wall. His groan as he thrust inside her. His curse as he yanked
himself out and came.

How many children were born every year because the guy thought he could pull out in
time? Emma would bet quite a few. Crap. She was thirty-one years old. She should know
better.

Her heart pounding, she tried to grasp for any other explanation. Anything that would
make her not pregnant with Logan’s baby, because this was not by any stretch of the
imagination a good situation.

He lived in Oklahoma. Her home was New York. He was a career soldier and apparently
a lifetime bachelor. She had a job here, and boring or not, it paid well. And like
it or not, they weren’t dating. They had shared nothing but a one-night stand. No
plans for the future. No promises of more. Just two single attractive adults enjoying
some good times. Since he’d never contacted her again after their one night together,
he obviously didn’t want anything more.

Maybe it was stress causing her to be late. She needed to buy a test. And that test
needed to come back negative, because this was an impossible scenario. She didn’t
think she could stand living a life with a man who was only with her because she’d
gotten pregnant.

Emma had a feeling that’s exactly what Logan would do—the right thing. Marry her and
give the baby his name, whether he wanted to be with Emma or not. She didn’t want
that. Emma wanted the fairy tale. What Becca had found with Tucker. A man who would
drop down on one knee and ask her to spend her life with him. Sweep her off her feet
so they could ride off into the sunset together.

The sheer number of clichés spinning through Emma’s head made her realize she wasn’t
thinking clearly right now. She was a modern woman with a good job. She’d been supporting
herself for many years now. She didn’t need Prince Charming to rescue her from a life
of servitude to her evil stepmother. That didn’t mean she didn’t want a man to charm
her. But she wanted a man to want to be with her because he couldn’t stand to be without
her, not because he felt obligated.

With Becca still babbling in her ear, Emma grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
She needed a drugstore test, and she needed it now. Then, and only then, would she
let herself worry about the future. About Logan. About her own happy ending. She only
hoped there was one.

Not worry. Ha! Easier said than done.

“Em?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“If you’re too busy there to talk to me, you can just say so. I’ll understand.” Becca’s
tone said the exact opposite of her words, but Emma couldn’t coddle her sister right
now.

“I’m sorry. I’m listening.”

Becca sighed. “It’s okay. I should get off anyway. I have to go next door and see
Logan.”

That caught her attention. “Logan? He’s there?”

Emma would have thought he’d have gone back to Stillwater by now. Maybe he had, and
was just in town visiting his parents.

“Mmm, hmm. We came home to find out his father had a massive stroke the day after
our wedding. Can you believe it?”

Emma stopped with her hand on the door of her car. Possibly her heart stopped, too,
at Becca’s revelation. That’s why Logan hadn’t called. His father had had a stroke.
“Wow. That’s crazy. I had no idea.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty horrible. According to Tuck’s mom, Logan’s not handling it all
that well. His brother even flew home from Okinawa.”

The news couldn’t overshadow her discovery that her period was late, but it might
make the possibility of her being pregnant slightly less horrifying. Logan had a very
good reason for not contacting her over the past month.

What should Emma do with this new information? Her mind churned. “Maybe I should call
him. Uh, you know, just to offer him my sympathies.”

“I’m not sure if you should offer sympathy, exactly. His dad isn’t dead, though I
heard he is debilitated. Empathy is the word you were looking for.” There Becca went,
being all literal and professor-like again. It was a trait that sometimes made Emma
want to smack her sister and tell her to stop being a word geek. “But this opens up
another question. Why would you call Logan? You barely know him.”

“You know we spent a lot of time talking at your wedding. We did sit next to each
other at the reception. Remember?”

“Uh-huh. And?” Becca was baiting Emma, looking for information. It wasn’t going to
work.

“And what?”

“And did you two exchange numbers? Did you speak about keeping in touch? Did he friend
you on Facebook?”

“Logan doesn’t strike me as the Facebook type, so no.” Emma slipping her business
card into the pocket of Logan’s tuxedo jacket before they left the hotel didn’t exactly
qualify as exchanging phone numbers.

The tux. The next realization hit her as hard as the first. The groomsmen’s tuxedos
were all rentals. What if he’d never checked his pockets before turning it back in?

Emma tried to grasp all the revelations this phone call with Becca had brought to
light. It was as if Emma had lived in some sort of daze the past three weeks, only
to wake up to reality now that Becca was back.

The details fell into place and formed a new reality for Emma. Logan hadn’t contacted
her, but it most likely wasn’t because he didn’t want to. It could be because he’d
never found her card in the rental tux’s pocket, and he was too busy dealing with
a family crisis.

Newly armed with these facts, Emma now needed a plan. She’d take the drugstore test.
If it was positive, she’d take another one, just to make sure. But whether she was
pregnant or not, she was going to call Logan to let him know she was thinking of him.
She’d bet his parents’ house number was listed. She could try looking it up online
first to avoid asking Becca. She’d feel him out during the call.

Baby or not, the past few weeks had convinced Emma that she couldn’t stop thinking
about Logan or their weekend together. Sure, she’d been in Oklahoma for what amounted
to not much more than forty-eight whirlwind hours, but it had been enough for her
to know she was interested in much more with Logan. Maybe not
this
much more . . . but she’d deal with that possibility once she took the test. Hopefully,
he was interested in more with her, too.

“Em. Stop being stubborn. You’re obviously into Logan, whether you want to admit it
to me or not.” Even Becca saw what Emma was finally ready to admit to herself. Might
as well stop denying it.

With her new plan in place, Emma would deal with her sister, and whatever else fate
threw her way.

“You’re right.” Silence greeted her. “Becs?”

“Did you just say I’m right?” Becca asked.

“Yes, I did.” Emma loved nothing more than shocking her sister. She couldn’t help
but think about what would be the shock of a lifetime if the test came back positive.

“You’d better go to the doctor.”

That tripped up Emma. “What? Why?” How could her sister know she was late? Was Becca
psychic now?

“I think there’s something wrong with you. You said I’m right without being sarcastic.”

“Oh, yeah.” Emma forced out a short laugh. “I suggest you enjoy it and stop being
a smart ass. Look. I have to run out for an errand. I’ll call you later.”

The need to know one way or another overwhelmed her. For better or worse, the drugstore
and a pregnancy test awaited.

“No.” The single word was delivered with a hefty dose of determination.

“No?” Emma repeated.

“No, I’m not letting you go. I’m your sister. I’ve known you my entire life, and you’re
not acting right, so tell me. What’s happening?”

Emma laughed. “Just because I agreed with you and said you’re right?”

“No. It’s not just that. There’s something else up with you. I can tell. You don’t
sound like it’s nothing, so spill.” Becca’s voice softened. “No judgment, Emma. Whatever’s
bothering you, I want to be here to help. Okay?”

Emma switched the phone to speaker, got into the car and started the engine. “Let
me go run this errand and I’ll call you back right after. Okay?”

If the test was positive, Emma might need Becca. But she wasn’t going to share anything
until she knew the answer.

 

The machine shot out a steady stream of hot, moist air. Logan stood to the side of
it and marveled at how much things had changed, and how much they’d remained the same.
When his father had first taught him to use the steamer to shape the cowboy hats they
sold in the store, Logan had been so young, he’d had to stand on a stool to reach.

Now, even though he towered over it, he might as well have been that kid again. Uncertain.
Confused.

With Layne heading back to Japan tomorrow, and his mother so consumed with his father’s
recovery, the weight of the decisions to be made sat firmly on Logan’s shoulders.
They’d both told him to do what he thought best.

How could he sell the shop that was his dad’s life? But then, how could he not? He
had a life and a job to get back to in Stillwater. He was a career army man. Yet,
here he stood, steaming the brim of a felt cowboy hat so he could shape it for the
customer who’d special ordered it.

He couldn’t think clearly anymore. The options swirled in his brain until they got
all mixed up, like the colors of a kaleidoscope. He turned the hat in his hand, the
mindless task helping settle his reeling mind, even if he still couldn’t resolve anything.