Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Danielle

“I made that lasagna you like and put it in the freezer. And the award-winning pie is in the cake stand on the counter.” I go over to the fridge, making sure it’s well stocked before I leave for the airport.

“Kiddo,” Grandpa says, limping a bit as he walks through the kitchen. “I know where the grocery store is. And even better, I know how to order a pizza.”

“But they don’t deliver out here,” I counter.

“I have the truck.”

I put one hand on my hip. “I know. I just…I feel bad leaving.”

Grandpa laughs. “I have enjoyed having you here. It’s nice having the company, and it was high time someone got out Grandma’s cookbook.” He eyes the pie on the counter.

“Don’t eat it all in one day,” I say with a laugh.

Grandpa gives me a wink. “I’ll try my best.”

Black Cat jumps up on the counter and sniffs at the glass cake stand. Good thing I covered the pie. The porch creaks, and a second later, someone knocks on the door. My heart swells in my chest—just a tiny bit—knowing that Logan is here.

“I’ll miss you,” I tell Grandpa before I go to answer the door. “Take care while I’m gone, okay?”

“I’ve gotten along this far and have been just fine. Now you take care. Let me know when you land. And watch out for sharks,” he adds, knowing I have a very real fear of wildlife in the ocean.

I shudder. “I’ll be staying in knee-deep water.”

“The shallow end is no place to live, kiddo. Go out there. Get your hair wet.”

“You’re not just talking about the ocean anymore, are you?”

Grandpa just shrugs and limps past me to let Logan and Dean—who’s driving us to the airport—into the house. I’m surprised to see Kara there with them. She smiles when she sees me, and I have to give her credit for trying. She’s the odd one out with the Dawsons, and her little stint where she was mad at Quinn for being pregnant at her wedding left a sour taste in their mouths.

The Dawson guys are very protective of their little sister, and anyone—even Dean’s wife—being mean to her puts you on their shit list. Add in that her anger was directed toward Quinn and Archer, who’s just as much of a Dawson as the rest of them, and Logan and Owen were not her biggest fan.

“Hey, you’re coming with?” I ask, hoping I don’t come off as rude.

“Yeah, we figured since we’re dropping you off at the airport around dinner time, we might as well take advantage of it and have dinner in the city,” she explains.

“Ohhh, that sounds fun.” I look at Logan, and this time there’s no denying the beat my heart skipped. “My suitcase is over there. It’s heavy.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “Bummer, you’re going to have to deal with a heavy suitcase.”

I laugh right as he steps forward to get it for me. I double-check I have our boarding passes and then the other stuff I need before leaving for a few days.

“Take care of my granddaughter,” Grandpa tells Logan, clapping him on the back. “Have fun, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Logan gives me a look, and I narrow my eyes, shaking my head in a silent warning not to make a comment about church ladies again.

“We’ll have fun,” I say. “And then we’ll suffer through Diana’s wedding.”

“Have a drink or two first.” Grandpa winks, and Dean laughs. The day after Diana and Peter left Eastwood, she’s become an insufferable Bridezilla and went so far as “advising” me I should cut my hair before the wedding since Hawaii is so hot. Turns out, she wants to have the longest hair out of everyone in the bridal party. I did go get a haircut but got exactly one inch taken off only to clean up my split ends.

I’m not allowed to wear my hair down during the ceremony or have on dangly earrings. We also can’t have red lipstick, because that’s Diana’s “signature” color. She also wants us all to fast the day before the wedding to make sure we “look our best” and not bloated in the wedding photos.

I’m starting to think she and Peter deserve each other.

“Send me pictures,” Grandpa says, hobbling over.

“I will. Love you, Grandpa.”

“Love you too, Ellie.”

I give him a hug goodbye and then step into the humid summer air. Logan puts my suitcase in the trunk, and we climb into the back of Dean’s car.

*

“We have an hour and a half before we leave.” Logan looks around the terminal. “Want to go get something to eat?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’m starving.” I grab my purse and reach for my carry-on, but Logan grabs it first, along with his. Carrying both bags, Logan leads the way, stopping outside a pizza restaurant. He looks at it and shrugs. I nod and we go in, finding a table. Logan stashes the bags to the side, and we order drinks and a pepperoni pizza.

“What’s the first thing you want to do when we get to Hawaii?” I ask, reaching for my Long Island Iced Tea.

“Sleep.”

“You’re so boring.”

Logan takes a sip of beer. “It’ll be six AM our time and one AM Hawaii time. I can’t sleep on planes, but that might work to my advantage. I can pass out once we get to the hotel and then wake up and be pretty much on their time zone.”

“I can sleep on long flights if I’m tired enough.”

“Right. You’ve been on some long ones.”

Nodding, I turn my head, people watching for a minute. I turn back, and Logan quickly looks away. I smile and run my eyes over him. God, he’s such a gorgeous man. He’s been working out a lot more lately, and I can tell. It won’t be hard to pretend to be insanely attracted to my fiancé.

What the hell did I get us into?

“Thanks again for coming with me,” I blurt before I have a chance to really think about it. I reach out and put my hand on his, and as soon as my skin makes contact with his, I know I just make a big mistake.

Because now I’m not entirely sure I’m going to be capable of removing my hand.

His long fingers under mine are warm, and I know if he was to flip his palm over, I’d feel rough skin. He’d interlace our fingers, and he’d move his thumb down to my wrist, rubbing little circles over my skin.

Then he’d reach forward with his other hand and caress my face. We’d slowly lean across the table. He’d push my hair back, tucking my long locks behind my ear. My tongue would dart out, slowly wetting my lips. Heat would rush through me, starting in my stomach and spreading down at a scary-fast rate, making me wet with anticipation of what’s to come.

Spoiler alert: it’ll be me.

I blink and jerk my hand back, unable to help that flush that takes over my face. Reaching for my drink, I almost knock it over before I grip the cold glass. I bring it to my lips and take down a few gulps, which was probably a bad idea on its own. I haven’t eaten in a while, the pizza won’t be here for another ten minutes at least, and drunk Danielle has an even harder time filtering her thoughts.

“You’re welcome,” Logan says, leaning back and tensing a bit. “I know how awkward it would be around your family, and I’m glad you don’t have to go alone.” The line sounds rehearsed, but I’ll take it.

“Yeah. I’ve hardly spoken to my dad since I left. Which is a good thing, because it was really awkward when he called to congratulate me on my engagement,” I laugh, and Logan does too. I shake my head. “I still feel bad for getting you into this mess.”

“It’s really not that messy.” Logan’s shoulders start to relax again. “And if I didn’t want to get into it, I wouldn’t. I know this might come as a shock since I spend most of my free time with Owen, but I am an adult capable of making my own decisions.”

I narrow my eyes. “But are you really?”

“It is a little questionable. You should start making me precooked dinners and pies when we get back like you did for your grandpa.”

“Hey,” I laugh. “Grandpa has gotten used to having someone else around the house to help with those things. His age is starting to show, as much as I hate saying that. And it’s a wonder his cholesterol isn’t sky-high from the way he was eating before I got there.”

“You mean eating the burgers and fries he’d come in and get at least four times a week?”

“Exactly that.” I pick up my drink again. “Now I’m the one eating burgers and fries four times a week.”

“They are good burgers.”

“Too good. I should have scaled back before summer and swimsuit weather.”

Logan looks at me like I’m crazy. “You’re kidding, right?”

I make a face, getting a little uncomfortable. I spoke without thinking, and to be honest, I’m not even sure I care that much. But it’s been so ingrained in my head since I was just a little girl that how I look determines my self-worth in some peoples’ eyes.

It’s utter bullshit, and I know it. Yet I have a hard time turning that part of my brain off, the part where I look at myself in the mirror and immediately see my flaws. They’re the first things I see, actually.

I’d love to look at myself and find beauty in the imperfections, but I don’t know how.

“You look really good in a swimsuit,” Logan says, and now it’s his turn to speak without thinking. “I mean, not that I really look or anything.”

The alcohol is hitting me and watching him blush is the cutest thing in the whole entire world right now. “You’ve never looked at me in a swimsuit?” I flutter my lashes.

Logan shakes his head, recovering fast. “Nope. I refuse to look at you when you’re indecent.” He brings his beer to his lips.

I lean forward and bite my lip. “So you’re not going to go to the beach with me at all this weekend?”

“Only if you wear one of those old-fashioned swimsuits.”

“Like the one Wednesday Addams wore in Family Values?”

Logan laughs, eyes sparkling. “Exactly like that one.”

The pizza comes, and after we eat, we walk around the airport, not wanting to sit when we have an eight-hour flight ahead of us. We’re in a little gift shop that has the most random crap. There’s a little display of bumper stickers, and I grab one that would be perfect for Owen’s car.

“I make frequent stops at your mom’s house,” Logan reads, looking over my shoulder. “I’m getting it.”

“Any bets on how long it’ll take him to notice this time?”

“Hopefully more than a day.”

I laugh. “You had that last one on your car for a week.”

Logan shakes his head. “I’ve gotten in the habit of circling my car at least once a day to check.” He and Owen have a long-running prank of putting stupid or sometimes straight-out offensive bumper stickers on each other’s cars and then seeing how it takes to notice.

We walk through the airport some more and then go back to the terminal right in time to line up to board. We head to the back of the plane and take our seats. I spend a few minutes arranging my stuff and pulling out my blanket from my bag.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” I get the ring out of my wallet. The center stone isn’t a real diamond, but the side stones are, and I really am a little worried about losing it. How do people wear expensive engagement rings so casually?

I slip the ring on and hold up my hand, wiggling my fingers. I turn, expecting to see Logan smiling or rolling his eyes. But he has a look of disappointment on his face, and that bad feeling starts to rise in my stomach again.

Did I make a huge mistake—again?

Logan is my best friend, and he’s going to pretend to be deeply in love and excited to marry me. It’s all fun and games for now. But what’s going to happen when we come back to Eastwood?