A Second Chance at Crimson Ranch (5 page)

He wanted to kiss her.

She could see it in his eyes, feel the electricity in the air between them. Heaven help her, she wanted to be kissed by this man. No matter how wrong it was. Despite the differences in their ages, their lives. Every part of her wanted to feel his lips against hers.

She knew that kissing Logan would change her. She was a woman who was ready for that change.

Nothing could have prepared her for this moment but she reveled in the unknown, leaning in ever so slightly.

Chapter Four

L
ogan took a step back, wrenching himself away from Olivia. He had to force his hands to release her.

She stumbled forward before righting herself. Her fingers—those long, elegant fingers—pressed against her lips the way his mouth almost had a moment earlier. Her eyes were hazy with confusion and something else he couldn't name. The truth was he didn't want to understand it, because it might demolish his razor-thin willpower.

“Don't trust me,” he said again, his tone unsteady. There was an undeniable tremor in his voice, but he was damn sure he'd remain in control of this situation. “Go.” He pointed to the door. “You have to go now, Olivia.” Yelling wasn't necessary. She understood how serious he was because she left without another word, grabbing her purse from the table and practically running for the front of the building.

He wanted Olivia Wilder but he couldn't have her. Didn't deserve her. Of that he had no doubt.

Wanting things beyond his reach was familiar territory for Logan. He had no issues with lowering his expectations of what he could have, what was his rightful due.

He had a life, despite the fact that for several years after his sister died he'd tried to squander it away. He'd been convinced he didn't deserve to live without Beth, couldn't stand the pain of her loss. But that had changed, and if he was destined to be part of this world, he'd long ago decided to earn his place in it.

That was the only reason he was here with Olivia, he reminded himself.

She was nothing like his sister. Somehow he still saw in her the woman Beth could have become if their father's abuse hadn't broken her spirit. He felt the overwhelming pull of potential that never came to pass being back in Crimson. He knew he was no one's hero, but Logan couldn't resist trying to help Olivia.

The only way he could truly help was by resisting his own immense need for her.

He concentrated on the renovation plans once more. When Jordan had finished repainting the wall, Logan sent him to the hardware store and then began nailing sheets of drywall to studs in the main room. Most of the electrical work and plumbing already had been completed, which meant Logan would only have to deal with a few additional subcontractors.

There were a couple people he could call for help who would put him in touch with the guys he needed to finish the job. He'd try to keep the subs working on the project to a minimum, both to save costs and to maintain a low profile. Of course, there was more to this project than he could handle on his own or with the help of a preteen boy in the afternoons. But he wasn't sure of the reception he'd receive from people in town. Many of the companies in Crimson were family-run operations. Thanks to the reputation he wasn't sure he'd ever live down, almost everyone would remember him.

Just as well he didn't dredge up the past. Despite his brother's recommendation, he couldn't imagine anyone else in Crimson would be too pleased to have him working on such a public project. This wasn't about him.

He had Jordan help him move drywall until they both were covered with a chalky film. Once the kid had started talking, he hadn't shut up, sharing stories about school, the town and his father as fast as he could breathe. Normally, Logan liked to work in silence, but today he was grateful to be distracted from his thoughts.

After sending Jordan home around supper time, he cleaned up his tools and installed a lock on the front door. He couldn't imagine Olivia had many other enemies in town outside Jordan Dempsey, but why take chances?

He pulled his truck into Olivia's driveway, his stomach turning over as he thought of how he'd spoken to her earlier. It wasn't her fault that he hadn't been with a woman in almost a year. That was the only explanation he could come up with for his reaction to her. So what if she smelled amazing, a combination of lavender and spice that made him dizzy with need? He longed to trail his fingers through her soft, mahogany hair. He could imagine kissing every inch of her pale, creamy skin until her whole body flushed like her cheeks did when she looked at him. This train of thought was getting him nowhere but damn uncomfortable.

He owed her an apology but needed a long, cold shower first.

Just as he climbed out of his truck, he noticed another car, a bright yellow bug, parked next to the garage. The door opened and a girl, or young woman he supposed, hopped out. She looked him up and down, her gaze unabashedly appraising.

“And who,” she said slowly, “might you be?”

Before he could answer, the back door of the house flew open. Olivia stepped onto the porch, her hair swept up in a messy ponytail, arms wrapped around her waist to ward off the chill. She wore an awful fuzzy pink cardigan that had clearly been around for more than a decade. She'd changed into black sweatpants and shoved her feet into enormous Sorel boots. To Logan, she'd never looked more appealing. That fact only served to convince him that he needed to get this renovation project finished as quickly as he could and get the hell out of Crimson and away from Olivia Wilder.

“Millie?” Olivia said, her voice a mixture of shock and disbelief.

The other woman raised a gloved hand. “Hey, sis.”

* * *

A few moments passed before Olivia reached out a hand to the porch's wood railing to steady herself. She hadn't seen her half sister since their father's funeral three years ago. That had been the first time they'd actually met, although Olivia had known about Millie Spencer's existence since she was a girl.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, swallowing against the dryness in her throat.

Millie reached in the backseat of her tiny car and pulled out a duffel bag. “I'm driving back to Virginia from California. Thought I might stay with you for a couple of days. Catch up and all that.” She turned to stare at Olivia, her whole body tense, as if she expected Olivia to refuse her.

Which would be the smart thing to do. Olivia and Millie didn't have any kind of a relationship and why would they start now? But Olivia wouldn't turn away her only sibling, despite her mixed feelings. Her gaze flicked to Logan, who stood silently watching the two of them. Olivia had been raised to keep her dirty laundry private. It was ingrained in her. She couldn't bring herself to do anything different.

“Come into the house,” she told Millie. “We'll figure things out.”

She noticed that Millie seemed to relax with the knowledge she wasn't going to be turned away. She took a step forward then pointed one finger at Logan. “What about him?”

“I'm staying up there.” Logan indicated the apartment above the garage.

“Interesting,” Millie answered.

Manners forced Olivia to take the few steps down the porch and across the driveway. “Logan, this is Millicent Spencer. She's...”

“Your sister?” Logan answered for her.

She couldn't meet his gaze as she nodded. “My half sister. Millie, this is Logan Travers. He's—”

“Hot?” Millie supplied with a sly grin. She turned to Logan. “Nice to meet you. I hope we get to know each other better during my stay. You can show me around town.”

He gave Millie a slight, almost indulgent, smile. Even that made Olivia's stomach burn. “I'll leave that to your sister.” Lifting his gaze to Olivia, his eyes grew serious. “I'm sorry about earlier.”

She studied a spot behind his shoulder. “No problem. Misunderstanding. Have a good night.” She turned toward the house, unable to stop the heat rising in her face. “Let's go, Millie.”

As she started up the steps, Olivia looked over her shoulder. Millie still stood in the middle of the driveway, her eyes glancing between Olivia and Logan, who was unloading a toolbox from the back of his truck. Silently, Logan headed for the garage apartment. Olivia watched him open the door, then shut it behind him without looking at either of them again.

“Are you coming?” Olivia asked her sister.

Millie shifted her bag on her shoulder and followed Olivia. “If all the guys in Crimson look like that, I should have come for a visit a lot sooner.”

Olivia counted to ten in her head as she walked into the kitchen, moving to stand on the other side of the island from her sister.

Glancing around, Millie whistled under her breath. “Nice place. Can't wait for the grand tour.”

“What's going on with you, Millie?” Olivia asked, her head starting to pound from the events of the day.

“Where's Craig?”

“Gone.”

“On a trip?”

“For good.” Olivia rubbed her fingertips against her temples, trying to relieve some of the pressure there. “He left me. Took off with his secretary and all my money.”

“I'm glad you got rid of him.” Millie nodded, seeming unsurprised. “He made a pass at me at Dad's funeral.”

Olivia took a step back, feeling as if she'd been slapped. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“We'd just met. Officially, anyway. I didn't want to draw any more attention to myself. I'm sure your mother wouldn't have appreciated it.”

Her eyes drifting closed, Olivia thought about her mother's reaction. Diana Jepson hadn't even known Millie had attended the funeral. She liked to pretend her husband hadn't been keeping a second family near Washington, DC, for the better part of their marriage. But Olivia had been obsessed with her father's mistress and daughter ever since she first realized they existed. It was sick, but she couldn't help herself.

When Millie had shown up at the visitation the night before the funeral service, Olivia had spotted her immediately. Craig had been uncharacteristically supportive, offering to keep Millie away from Diana. Now she knew why.

“So, is the new guy your rebound boy toy?” Millie gave a small shake of her tiny hips, then made a noise like a growl. “I didn't know you had it in you to consider becoming a cougar.”

When Olivia's mouth dropped open, Millie laughed. “I'm joking! You're not
that
old.”

“I didn't...he isn't...we're not.” Olivia felt like growling herself. “I don't want to know what you mean by
that old
. Not that it's any of your business, but he's helping me renovate a building downtown. It's a community center I've been working on.”

Millie's big brown eyes, the same color as their father's, rolled. “Of course you have. Saint Olivia. Picking up the pieces of her husband's tarnished reputation.”

Olivia heard herself gasp. Millie barely knew her but she'd put her finger squarely on the situation. “Why are you here?”

“I need a place to stay for a bit. I'm between jobs.”

“I thought you were going to college. Have you graduated? Are you teaching now?”

Millie's expression turned guarded. “I'm taking a break. At the funeral you said you wanted to get to know me. That if I ever needed anything...” Her voice trailed off and she picked up the duffel bag she'd set on the floor. “I guess you were just being polite. Those Jepson manners are a real burden.”

You have no idea
, Olivia thought.

“Sorry to have bothered you. Should I friend you on Facebook instead? Is that more the relationship you had in mind?”

Olivia heard the bitterness in Millie's voice. The funny thing was she
did
want to know her half sister better. The timing was awful, but that seemed to be the current story of her life. “Of course you can stay. For as long as you need. It's been a tough couple of months. I'm on edge. The company will be good for me. For both of us.” She took a small step forward and then stopped, not sure what to do next.

“It's okay if we don't have our long-lost sister reunion now. No need to hug.” Millie gave her a sad smile. “But thank you,” she said softly. “I could use a time-out from the world.”

Olivia put her arms around Millie's small shoulders. Millie was petite like her mother. Almost pixie size, but she practically vibrated with energy. That had been part of their appeal to Olivia's father. The fun he couldn't have with his own wife and older daughter. Olivia had stopped blaming Millie for their father's sins years ago. “
I
need a hug,” she whispered and it felt right when Millie's arms wrapped around her shoulders.

After a moment they both pulled back. “I also need a bath,” Olivia said. “It's been a long day. I'll show you the guest room first. After I'm finished we can have dinner.”

She took Millie upstairs to the spare bedroom, then made her way to the master bath. One of the reasons she'd pushed so hard to buy this old house in town was the bathroom's claw-foot tub. In Olivia's opinion, there wasn't much a long, hot bath couldn't help fix. She watched the tub fill with water and bubbles, then lowered herself in, hoping to soak away the emotions that were rolling wildly back and forth in her mind.

She dunked her head under the water, a habit she'd had since childhood when she'd needed to drown out her parents' bitter arguments. A garbled noise made her sit up suddenly. Wiping bubbles from her eyes, she listened. There it was again. It sounded like a scream.

* * *

Logan heard the scream just as he cracked an egg into the mixing bowl. It sounded like a woman and came from the direction of Olivia's house.

Without wasting a second, he bounded out the door and down the steps, barely registering the driveway's blanket of new snow on his bare feet.

He burst into the kitchen to see Olivia's sister holding a long butcher knife in front of her. Blood dripped onto the wood floor from the gash at the tip of her index finger. The cut didn't look severe but her chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, almost as if there was another injury he couldn't see. Her eyes met his, huge against her pale face.

“Blood,” she whispered and he saw a shudder roll through her.

He took a step into the room but stopped in his tracks as Olivia ran in from the hallway. His mouth dropped open at the sight of her. Water dripped from the ends of her wet hair and little patches of bubbles clung to the strands where they framed her face, almost making a halo effect. She'd obviously just come from the bath and hadn't bothered to dry off before throwing on the thin white robe that covered her. Covered her without leaving anything to his imagination. The water had soaked through; the soft cotton of the robe clung to her every curve. It molded around her breasts under the now-transparent fabric.