Luck Be a Lady - Cathie Linz [82]
“What is it with you and loose shirts?” she asked. “Most guys like tight T-shirts, preferably wet, tight T-shirts.”
“You don’t have to flaunt what you’ve got. I prefer to explore your . . . riches on my own.”
“So you’re an explorer now, hmm?”
He stood her up and backed her against the wall. He held her wrists above her head with one hand, which lifted the hem of the shirt she wore, giving him easy access. “An explorer and a miner. Searching for gold.” He slid his index finger into her, brushing her most sensitive places. “I think I found it. A very rich vein.”
She tilted her head against the wall as orgasmic tremors consumed her body.
“Should I stop . . . or explore more?” he murmured.
“More,” she whispered.
“Hmm. Which way to go? Is there more gold here?” He brushed his thumb over her clitoris. “Or here?”
Every nerve was singing with divine bliss as he continued having his very wicked way with her.
By the time they left D.C. on Sunday morning, they had made a sizeable dent in the box of condoms. Megan fell asleep during the flight, with her head on Logan’s shoulder.
She woke up a few minutes before they landed. “I was dreaming about your grandfather,” she said. “You should thank Buddy for caring enough about you to do that intervention.”
“If I do, do you promise to wear that oversized I LOVE D.C. T-shirt I bought you at the airport?”
Megan smiled her best vixen smile. “I promise.”
Logan entered his grandfather’s house to find Buddy sitting on the couch, watching the Bears game.
“How was D.C.?” he asked Logan.
Logan helped himself to a beer from the fridge and joined Buddy before replying. “D.C. was good.”
“You and Megan do a lot of sightseeing?”
“None at all.” He took a sip of beer from the can. “What’s the score?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Buddy grumbled. “But you’re not cooperating much.”
“I was referring to the football game.”
“It’s seven to fourteen.”
“Who are we playing?”
“The Redskins. You know, that team from D.C.”
Logan grinned. “They’re actually in Maryland. Interrogate me all you want, I’m not saying anything more about my trip.”
“You don’t have to. I can tell by the look on your face that things are good with you and Megan.”
Logan let his grandfather’s comment go without responding.
“Fine,” Buddy grumbled. “If you won’t confide in me, then do me a different favor.”
“Depends what it is.”
“Put that St. Michael’s medallion your mother gave you back on. Don’t look so surprised. I know, even if she doesn’t, that you took it off when Will was killed. But you need to put it back on now. It’s time.”
Logan didn’t know what to say.
“Promise me,” Buddy insisted. “Put it on today.”
“Fine. I’ll put it on.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. And I’m glad to hear that you and Megan had a good time in D.C. So you’re a couple now, right?”
Logan didn’t answer, instead focusing on the game and the pass interference call that was called on the Bears’ defense. He waited for a commercial before hitting the mute button on the remote and stealing the last potato chips from the bowl between them. “About the last time we got together . . . I know I was grumpy at the time, but I appreciate what you did. With that intervention. I needed help and you gave it.”
“You come by your grumpiness honestly,” Buddy said. “And I’m glad you realize that you needed help. Even the toughest people have their limits, you know.”
“Does that include you?”
Buddy nodded.
For the first time, Logan noticed how pale he looked. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Sure now, boy-o.” He stood up and grabbed the bowl to get more chips. “Don’t you be worrying about me.” Then he collapsed.
Chapter Seventeen
“Gramps!” Logan caught him before he fell to the floor.
As he held his grandfather and lowered him to the ground, Logan was instantly hit with the memory of holding Will the same way. Panic knifed through him before he shoved it aside. He was trained to expect