She turned toward him, subtly twisting away from his touch. He moved his offending hand to clasp it behind his head in a casual stretch, as if she hadn’t just reminded him of her unspoken boundaries.
“I’m sorry, Ellery.” Logan winced at the strain on her face. “I feel like I’ve tortured you with my driving.”
Her head was shaking before he finished his sentence. “It’s not your fault. It doesn’t take much to send me into a panic.”
“But I can do things to minimize it for the rest of the weekend, and I promise I will.”
“Logan…I could tell you about the accident…” Her lower lip tucked between her teeth, her gaze dropping back to her lap. “But every time I describe it, I live it all over again. I’ve only told three people what happened…my counselor, Kara, and my ex-boyfriend.”
His mind zeroed in on her last words. Her ex-boyfriend. He wanted to hear that story instead of the one about the accident. The truth was he wasn’t sure he could handle hearing the details of the event that still caused nightmares.
“Then, don’t tell me. I don’t want you to relive it.”
“I think I want to tell you.” Her lower lip trembled. “I want you to understand I’m not being a wimp.”
“I don’t think that at all. I know it must’ve been horrible. I’ve seen how bad your scars are.” When she flinched, he felt like a heel. “I didn’t mean it like that. Your scars don’t look that bad. They just look…like it must’ve been painful and scary.”
“It was both.”
Her eyelids closed. The hollow sound of her voice sent chills down his spine. He wanted to beg her to stop, but he kept his mouth shut. If she needed to talk, he needed to listen.
“My dad was driving my family home. It was dark. A four-lane highway with no middle turning lane. He stopped to make a left turn on our road. He must’ve seen the lights of the truck in the rearview mirror, barreling up behind us, because I remember him yelling ‘Stop! Stop!’ The next thing I knew, a crash blasted my eardrums, and my body was being jerked all over the place. The drunk driver who rear-ended us spun our car into oncoming traffic. Our little sedan got hit from every direction. They said it was amazing anyone in our car survived.” Her voice got even smaller. “I was the only one who did.”
Something big wedged in his throat and made his voice sound broken. “I’m guessing you almost didn’t make it?”
“I was in critical care. Broken collar bone, arm, and a leg. Some ribs. Punctured spleen. Internal bleeding. Lots of scrapes and deep bruising.” She hugged herself, and he wished it was his arms around her instead. “But the worst part was the burns.”
“Your car caught on fire?”
“No, but my car door got ripped off and I ended up wedged against another car. That one caught on fire. I was just sitting there, kind of in shock, trying to figure out what had happened. Everything was hurting. But something started burning on my right side. The flames were licking at me, and I couldn’t move.”
His stomach clenched as he imagined the pain. He turned his face away to hide his reaction.
“It hurt so bad, and I was crying. I kept waiting for everything to blow up, like in the movies. I thought I was going to die. I heard voices yelling—some other cars had stopped. I started screaming for someone to help me. But no one could get to me, because the other side of our car was so smashed up.”
“How did they rescue you? The jaws of life?”
“Some guy who’d stopped to help got the idea of using his pickup to push the other car away from mine. Risked his life to save me, since I’m sure it could’ve caught his truck on fire. They got the guy out of the burning car, but he didn’t make it, either. And neither did the drunk guy who caused everything.”
“So it’s a miracle you’re still alive.” Logan felt a pang of regret for all the years he’d taken his life for granted.
“That’s what everyone kept telling me when I was in the hospital for the next four months. I didn’t even get to go to my family’s funerals.” A fat tear rolled down her cheek. “To be honest, a lot of times I prayed God would let me die, too.”
“I’m glad He didn’t.” Logan’s voice cracked.
“Kara was the only person who was there for me through it all. My boyfriend came a few times, but I don’t think he wanted to be saddled with a disfigured girlfriend.”
“Then he was a jerk,” Logan declared.
“I don’t blame him, really. I was angry with God and pretty ugly, inside and out.” She forced out a bitter laugh. “At least the inside is a little better now. No hope for the outside.”
“Don’t say that.” He reached across and snatched her hand from her lap. “I think you’re beautiful in both places.”
With sadness dulling her blue eyes, she stared at their joined hands. “Don’t do this, Logan.”
“Don’t do what?” he asked, jutting out his chin in defiance. “Don’t say supportive things to a…a friend.”
“Holding hands may mean nothing to you, but no man has offered to hold mine in two years. I’m here to be your fake date to a wedding…to help you win back your girlfriend. We’re not really friends, Logan. When we get back to Austin, we’ll go our own ways. That’s part of the reason I had the courage to tell you my story, knowing we’d never see each other again after this weekend. But this…” She lifted their hands between them. “This makes me wish for things that can never be.”
He didn’t resist when her hand slipped from his grasp. What could he say? She was right. He wanted to argue with her. To tell her their relationship was about more than a fake date. To convince her they were at least real friends. But what good would that do, anyway? What did he know about being a friend, hiding away in his secluded mansion? He could never be the kind of guy Ellery needed…the kind of guy she deserved. He was probably better off with Allegra.
CHAPTER 9
Ellery descended the stairs slowly, determined not to trip on her dress or stumble on her three-inch heels. As she entered the kitchen, she found Logan filling a glass with water from the refrigerator dispenser. He turned around, and her insides melted, right on the spot, her muscles so liquified, she couldn’t even close her jaw.
Logan West wasn’t just hot. He was smoking! From his smoldering, come-hither eyes to his broad, tux-clad shoulders, to the polished black shoes covering his feet, which were shifting about, broadcasting his nervousness. And the insecurity written on his face only made him more adorable to Ellery. Most guys like him would’ve been so arrogant, she wouldn’t have been able to stand being in the room with them. She’d seen women fan themselves in movies, but this was the first time she’d felt the need to cool herself off just from laying eyes on a handsome guy.
“You look great.” He gulped some water from the glass in his hands and promptly went into a coughing fit.
Ellery warmed at the compliment, despite doubting his sincerity. “Thanks. You look amazing!”
“Thank you. I’m glad you made me get a haircut. It helped. At least, I hope it did.” Logan set the glass down and stuffed both hands in his pants pockets, squirming like a self-conscious teenager. “I’m glad you picked that dress. The blue color makes your eyes look like sapphires.”
“Thanks.” The blood rushed to her face, which always made the scar on her cheek more apparent. But she lifted her chin, determined not to think about it. Her hands smoothed down the soft fabric draping across her curves in elegant folds. The gown’s back dipped low, exposing her unblemished skin. Ironic that the silk shawl on her shoulders, designed to hide the scars on her arms, would also cover the smooth skin on her back.
“I mean it.” Almost palpable, his gaze roamed from head to toe, leaving delightful tingles in its wake. He was making it so hard not to fall for him. Could she ask him to stop being so nice?
