All of Me (The Bridesmaids Club Book 1) (9 page)

“I’d sooner talk about you.”

“I’m sure you would,” Tess mumbled.

Logan finished his pie and walked across to the stack of paper napkins in the pantry. He ignored the stubborn tilt to Tess’ chin. He’d seen that look too many times to pay it much attention now.

He wiped his mouth and scrunched the napkin in his hand. “Have I done something to make you dislike me, or do you have a problem with all reporters?”

Tess used a knife to cut the rolled dough into thick slices. “Can you pass me a baking sheet for the pinwheel scones?”

Logan looked behind him and reached for a metal tray. “For the last twelve months I’ve eaten here at least three times a week. Each time you go out of your way to ignore me. When you haven’t got a choice, the best I can hope for is cold indifference. What’s happening now?”

Tess put the scones in the oven and set the timer. “You’ve grown on me.”

Logan clutched his sweaty chest. “Be still my beating heart. Does this mean I can look forward to a civilized word here and there.”

Tess’ lips twitched. “It’s only a temporary glitch. Don’t get too comfortable.”

“So what did he do? Leave you at the altar for a news story? Print a story about how blueberry muffins weren’t so cool anymore?”

Tess walked to the fridge and took out a jar of what looked like stewed fruit. “If I told you why I don’t like reporters you’d probably sue the pants off me for defamation.” Tess opened a drawer and pulled out a spray-on deodorant. “It’s blue this time. Arms up.”

Logan made sure he scowled at her as she sprayed deodorant on top of his t-shirt. “How about a trade? You tell me why you don’t like reporters and I’ll answer one question for you?”

Tess’ brow crinkled as she thought about what he’d said. “My answer to your question is complicated.”

“Most important things are.”

Tess lifted a ball of dough out of the fridge. “If I answer your question, you’ll do the same for me?”

Logan walked across to the sink and helped himself to a glass of water. He had a feeling both of their answers would be complicated. “I’ll truthfully answer any question you throw at me.”

Tess sprinkled flour onto the stainless steel counter and started rolling the dough. “I don’t like reporters because I’ve seen firsthand what they can do to a person’s life.”

She glanced at Logan. He kept his expression neutral.

“Three years ago my best friend died from a drug overdose. I found out her boyfriend was the person supplying her with drugs. I told him I was going to the police. Within days, he’d smeared my name across the newspapers with so many lies that I needed to leave New York. The reporters were like vultures.”

Tess kept her head bent over the pastry. She turned a pie pan upside down and cut around the edge. “Because of who he was everyone thought I was lying. I couldn’t prove anything to the police. Evie’s boyfriend walked away looking like a grieving hero.”

“Is that why you came to Bozeman?”

“My grandparents left me their home and this building when they died. I hadn’t been back since their funeral.” Tess looked at the shelf holding the boom box. “This was my soft place to fall.”

She undid the lid on the glass jar and poured the fruit into the crust. “That’s my dark past out in the open. And the only broken heart was mine.”

Logan waited for her to ask him about why he wasn’t sleeping, but she didn’t. Her hands moved quickly over the pie, adding a lattice top without hesitating once. With the pie in the oven and the pinwheel scones nearly finished, the kitchen smelled incredible.

“What do you want to ask me?” Logan watched her eyes land on his face, on the dark stubble on his jaw and the rings under his eyes.

“I’m not sure. I’ve got a feeling you won’t let me ask another question so easily, so I want to make this one count.” Tess walked across to a whiteboard attached to the wall. Someone had written a daily menu in big black letters. She drew a big smiley face beside the pinwheel scones and apple and blueberry pie. “One day I’m going to forget something, but it won’t be today.” The timer on the oven beeped and Tess took the scones out of the oven.

“When do you stop baking?” Logan watched as Tess started to pour more flour into a bowl.

“When I’ve made everything on my list. I’ll make some extra cookies for the after-school kids, then I’m done until we open.”

Logan glanced at his watch. “I need to leave soon. Otherwise, I’ll be late for work.”

“Do you want a ride home?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I just need to stretch again and then I’ll be off.”

Tess poured a cup of sugar into the bowl. “Why did you come to Bozeman?”

For a second Logan froze. Why he’d come here had nothing and everything to do with why he wasn’t sleeping. He didn’t know if he could summarize what had happened in a few short words. But he’d made a promise, so he’d try. “I was a war correspondent in Afghanistan. A suicide bomber destroyed a school in the village I was living in.”

He breathed in the smell of apple and blueberry pie, of bacon and sun-dried tomato. It pushed the smell of death and desperation away, focused him on the here and now and not what had happened half a world away.

He took his empty glass back to the sink and filled it with water. “The Army evacuated as many people as they could, but they couldn’t take everyone. We left behind…” His hand shook as he lifted the glass to his mouth and gulped back the water. “I went home to Seattle and quit my job. When the position at the Bozeman Chronicle was advertised, I applied for it and moved here.”

“You won three top awards.”

Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “You did your homework.”

“Hard not to when you eat here so often.”

“That was my old life. I’m not that person anymore.” He left his glass on the counter and walked toward the door. “I’ll see you later.”

He glanced at Tess and saw the worry on her face, the questions buzzing around her brain.

“Wait.” She reached for the brown paper bag he’d left on the end of the counter. “You forgot your muffins.”

He walked back and took them out of her hands. “Thanks.”

She shrugged her shoulders and picked up a spatula. “They’re too good to forget.”

Logan took another deep breath before leaving. He wished all of his memories were too good to forget.

Chapter Four

Tess looked down at her notebook, then at the sign on the cream brick building in front of her. Jay’s Book and Office Supply wasn’t far from Angel Wings Café. After shooing the last of the students out of the café, she’d locked the door and headed on foot to look for Connie.

“Wait for me.”

Tess turned around. Her heart beat fast when she saw the six-foot-five, seriously toned body heading toward her. But then being in the same room as Logan was enough to make her forget about her aversion to reporters. “You didn’t come in at lunchtime?”

“Didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself.”

Tess felt a smile work its way across her face. “That hasn’t worried you before.”

“It does now. Is this the first stationery store you’ve looked in?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I was hoping to be finished by now, but a group of teenage boys didn’t want to leave the café.”

“Could have something to do with the pretty blonde behind the counter.”

Tess frowned. Kate helped her in the afternoon. But Kate had deep chestnut colored hair. “You mean me?”

“Is there any other pretty blonde working with you that I don’t know about?”

Tess crossed her arms in front of her chest. “You can’t go around calling me pretty.”

“Why not?”

“People will talk.”

Logan seemed to consider her words for longer than was strictly necessary. “My sister thinks you’re pretty. Is that more appropriate?”

“It’s better,” Tess muttered. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I’ve come to help. Sally gave me the names of the stores you were visiting.”

Tess was confused. “But you didn’t want to help. Showing us where Connie and Dave lived was as much as you wanted to do.”

“I’ve been thinking about Molly’s idea. The one about documenting what you’re doing. I’d like to do a follow-up story. If Molly’s happy to provide photos, it would make a good weekend article.”

“You’re using us for a story?”

“I’m a reporter.”

Tess was sure the smile he was flashing her had won him more friends than enemies, but she wasn’t fooled. “You’ll have to check with everyone else. They might not want people knowing what we’re doing. And even if Molly, Sally, and Annie don’t mind, your readers might not be interested.”

“Are you kidding? This is one of those random acts of kindness stories that our everyone loves.”

“It’s not award-winning journalism.”

The smile on Logan’s face dimmed. “My award days are over.”

Tess clamped her lips together. From her experience, reporters never gave up finding stories that would shock the world. But Logan looked sincere. Maybe she was projecting all of her trust issues on him, and maybe he didn’t deserve that.

“Okay,” she said. “You can come with me.”

Logan walked ahead of her and opened the door to the stationery store. “After you.”

At any other time, she would have been impressed with his manners. But his manners were attached to a story she didn’t want to share. “I’ll ask the lady at the sales counter if she knows Connie.”

Logan nodded and followed her across the room.

Tess smiled at the sales assistant and held her hand out. “I’m Tess Williams. I’m wondering if Connie Thompson works here?”

The woman wasn’t much older than Tess. She frowned and looked at Logan. “Are you with the police or something?”

Logan held his hand out and smiled. The woman behind the counter almost melted on the spot. “I’m Logan Allen. I work for the Bozeman Chronicle. We’re trying to find Connie to do a follow-up story about her house burglary.”

The woman behind the desk looked as though she would have given him anything he asked for. Tess hoped that included Connie.

“I’m Jennifer Raynor. My friends call me Jen.” She leaned forward and shook Logan’s hand. “Connie doesn’t work here anymore, but I know where she’s gone. Started a new job last week at the Paper Palace on Lamme Street. Poor thing lost everything in that burglary. Who would do such a thing?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping the Police will have a better idea of who the thieves are.”

“I hope you’re right,” Jen said. “Did you need anything else while you’re here?”

Logan didn’t seem to notice the provocative pause in her sentence. “We’re okay. Thanks for your help.”

“Anytime.” Jen flicked her hair back over her shoulder and looked through her long lashes at Logan. “I’ll see you around.”

Logan smiled and left the stationery store with Tess following closely behind.

“Do you always have that effect on women?”

Logan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “What do you mean?”

He looked genuinely puzzled and Tess couldn’t hold back a smile. “You don’t know do you?”

Logan frowned. “’I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about, but we need to get to the Paper Palace before they close. Do you want to come with me? My truck’s parked across the street.”

Tess watched him pull his keys out of his pocket. He looked distracted, as though his mind was already working through another set of problems. “We could call the store to see if Connie’s there if you’ve got other things you need to do?”

“Why would you think that?”

“You’ve got something on your mind.” Tess wondered if it had anything to do with why he’d come to Bozeman in the first place.

“It’s an occupational hazard.” He held Tess’ arm as they crossed the street. “If Connie isn’t working today, do you want to give her manager your home number or mine? She can call one of us to find out about the dresses.”

Tess put her seatbelt on. “She already knows you, so maybe your number would be better.”

Logan pulled out of his parking space and drove along Main Street. They stopped at the traffic lights outside the Bozeman Hotel and turned right. With its red brick exterior and arched windows, the hotel was one of the oldest buildings in Bozeman. Tess’ grandparents had taken her there most Sunday nights for their special family dinner. She’d loved being in the building, especially when her grandpa had taken her across to look at the old framed photos on the walls.

Logan didn’t say anything as they drove toward the Paper Palace. Tess had so many happy memories of Bozeman, that she wondered what Logan thought of their small town. His life here had to be the complete opposite of what he’d been used to. If he was thinking about Afghanistan, she couldn’t blame him for being distracted. “How long did you work in Afghanistan for?”

Logan’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “About eleven months.”

Tess thought about the impact of working in a war-torn country and what that could do to a person. There was a whole lot more to him than she realized.