CHAPTER 5
It only took a few minutes for Ellery to decide she loved Logan’s mom. Her eyes hadn’t lingered on Ellery’s scar for even a fraction of a second. Had Logan given her advanced warning? Probably not. He’d been way too nervous standing on the porch, waiting for the door to open, shuffling his feet and fidgeting like a cat in a roomful of rocking chairs.
“Mom is kind of pushy,” he’d said for the umpteenth time, “and equally nosey. You don’t have to answer her questions. And do me a big favor.”
“What’s that?”
“Please don’t let her show you my yearbook. She’s proud because I was valedictorian, but I hate what I looked like in high school.”
His mother, Nancy, flung the door open and hugged Logan as if she hadn’t seen him in six months. Considering what a recluse he seemed to be, that might’ve been the case. Nancy’s arms captured Ellery next, squeezing the air out of her lungs.
Soon Ellery found herself sitting beside Logan on a buttery-soft leather sofa, a glass of iced tea in her hand and a large serving of strawberry shortcake on a plate in her lap. Something inane blared on the large television screen, but Nancy—sitting in a chair facing them—gave her full attention to Logan and Ellery.
“Tell me how the two of you met.” Nancy tucked her hands together under her chin, her face alight with anticipation.
“We haven’t known each other long,” Logan said between mouthfuls of strawberry shortcake, which he wolfed down as if he hadn’t eaten dinner. In fact, they hadn’t eaten, but Ellery hadn’t been a bit hungry during the drive. Now she forked a bite of the delicious concoction into her mouth and moaned her appreciation. Logan grinned as he continued the explanation. “She met me through one of my apps.”
“Oh! The dating app?” Nancy hit the mute button on the television remote.
A dating application? How many apps had Logan created? No wonder he was so wealthy. How could anyone so smart and talented be so insecure about himself? Ellery wondered if his mother was the driving force behind it.
“Not the dating app. One of the others.” He skillfully skirted her question. “How’s the search for a new youth minister going?”
Nancy, who was evidently on a church committee in charge of finding a new minister for the youth at her church, prattled happily on about reading through dozens of resumes. The committee was particularly excited about two of the candidates.
Logan nodded, throwing a wink Ellery’s direction, and she marveled at how he’d controlled the situation. This was nothing like the stiff, uncomfortable man she’d met earlier that day.
He and his mother chatted affectionately, but neither one ever mentioned his dad. Most likely, Nancy was divorced or widowed. Ellery didn’t plan to ask.
Without any warning, Nancy asked the bombshell question Ellery had been dreading. “Where do your parents live, Ellery?”
Ellery attempted to keep a nonchalant expression while her throat threatened to close off. “My parents died in a car accident a few years ago.” She felt Logan’s eyes boring into the side of her face…the side with the scar. He was too smart not to put two and two together. He had to have figured it was the same car accident that had caused her injuries.
“I’m so sorry.” Nancy’s face crumpled. “My first husband died in a car accident right before Logan was born. It’s been thirty-one years, and it still hurts.”
Ellery squeezed her fists, fingernails digging into her palms. “My friends have been great.”
“Do you have other family?” Nancy’s eyes shone with unshed tears.
“No. My brother died in the crash, too. We didn’t have any extended family.”
These were the times when Ellery missed her twin brother most. Always quick with a joke, he would’ve found some way to lighten the conversation. Instead, the air was thick with dark tension. Not for the first time, she wished she’d died with the rest of her family.
“Oh, Ellery!” Nancy’s hand lifted to her throat. “That’s more than anyone should have to bear. And I’ve made it even worse by bringing it up. I’m so sorry.”
The genuine tears on Nancy’s face thawed the wall of ice around Ellery’s emotions just enough for the pain to break through, and she felt her control slipping. She was on the verge of disaster. Without her customary anger, she had nothing to shore up her rickety walls.
When Logan’s fingers intertwined with hers, she knew it was a lost cause. Her eyes stung. Her throat felt like she’d swallowed a live ostrich. After a six-month reprieve, she was about to start crying, and it would be ugly, like the first months following the accident.
His hand squeezed hers. “Mom, I see you’ve got my high school yearbook beside you on the table. You might as well bring it out and get it over with.”
Ellery’s swirling emotions paused in shock—Logan had thrown himself on the proverbial sword to save her. Why would he do that?
Before Ellery had time to react, Nancy snatched the yearbook and carried it to them. “You’re going to love this, Ellery.”
As the pages turned before her, revealing images of a younger, pudgier version of Logan with the same unruly hair, Ellery’s throat relaxed. Logan groaned with embarrassment, though he’d encouraged his mom in his humiliation. Meanwhile, Ellery’s tears remained at bay, and she spent the next two hours talking with him and his mother. And somehow, the pain of her memories seemed less raw than before.
Ellery had just finished brushing her teeth when she heard a knock on her bedroom door. She padded across the wood floor and opened it a crack. Logan stood in the hallway, still dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, his hands stuffed in his pockets. She tried not to notice the way his muscles stretched against the thin fabric.
Remember, this man is paying you to be his wedding date. He’s your employer and nothing else.
“Did you get that box into the attic for your mom?” Ellery asked.
“Turns out she had six boxes.” His smile flashed, crinkling the corners of those devastating green eyes in a way that made her heart flutter. “Not that I’m complaining. I know I’m lucky to have her.”
“True,” she choked, her emotions still dangerously close to the surface.
He ducked his head, peering through the wavy hair that fell over his eyes. “Can I come in and talk to you for a second?”
“I’m in my PJs,” she said, checking her state of dress. The short sleeves exposed her scarred arm, but at least her leg was covered. “Are you sure your mother won’t mind you being in my room?”
His mouth kicked up on one corner. “It’ll be fine, as long as we leave the door open.”
As he came inside, his presence somehow filled the entire room. He moved to the settee against the wall and sat down on the floral cushion, his chiseled body a stark masculine contrast. His hand patted the seat beside him, and he looked at her in question.
