Chapter 46
I pulled up in front of my apartment, and Logan's car was already there. I sat in my car, thinking about what Craig had said, and started to fume all over again. How dare he say that about Logan? But as I thought about it, I knew that it was nothing against Logan. Craig would have said that about any guy that I dated. I took a deep breath and silently vowed not to tell Logan what Craig had said, knowing that he would hit the roof.
I walked into the apartment, and the scent of rich Italian cuisine rushed to me. I inhaled the tangy scent, letting it wash away my anger toward Craig. "Hey, honey! I'm home!" I bellowed as I stepped in.
"There she is!" Logan said as he peeked his head around the corner from the kitchen. "Come on in! I poured you a glass of wine."
I smiled. It was good to come home to Logan. He made everything beautiful just by being there. "Wow! Something smells great!" I said as I wrapped my arms around him from behind. "What's for dinner?"
He laughed as he turned around and his lips descended upon mine as he wrapped his arms around me. When he pulled back, he replied, "You."
I laughed. "No. I'll be desert."
He raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Oh? Is that so?"
"Well, if you play your cards right."
He laughed as he handed me the wine. "I may take you up on that later," he said as he gave me a quick peck on the lips. "Go ahead and sit down. Dinner's just about ready."
"Is there anything I can do?" I asked as I looked over at the pots and pans on the stove.
"No." He turned me around. "Now, go sit down and let me take care of it."
I laughed. "Yes, sir."
"And don't you forget it," he teased.
I laughed as I shook my head and sat down at the table where he had indicated. It was nice coming home to a meal that I didn't have to cook. "So, where did you learn to cook?"
He shrugged, but didn't turn his attention away from the pasta that he was stirring. "Willa, our family cook, showed me how when I was growing up." He turned to drain the pasta in a colander that he had already placed in the sink. "I'd get bored and hang out in the kitchen with her, and she showed me all kinds of things."
I raised a teasing eyebrow. "Oh, really?"
He laughed as he poured the drained pasta in a sauce and began to stir. "It wasn't like that. She was like a mother to me." He poured the pasta dish into a bowl and set it on the table as the rich Italian scent grew stronger, causing my stomach to churn. "My own mother was too busy with her garden parties or her cronies at the club to bother, but Willa was always there. I'm an only child, so I didn't have anyone to play with half the time." He turned and pulled a cookie sheet from the oven, filled with garlic bread. "If it wasn't for Willa, I'm not sure what I would have done."
"I'm so sorry to hear that," I said as my heart went out to him.
He forced a smile. "Don't be. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have learned how to cook and I would be taking you out to dinner right now," he joked, but I could tell that it bothered him.
I smiled, knowing that he wanted to change the subject. "It looks great."
"Thanks," he said as he topped off my wine. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," I said as I took a sip of the wine. I was so tired that it went straight to my head. "But I wish you'd let me do something to help."
He smiled as he shook his head. "Not on your life. Tonight, let me pamper you."
I smiled. "No matter how long I live, I'll never get used to such royal treatment."
He reached over and gave me a kiss, letting his lips linger a bit. "You'd better if you plan to be with me."
"Uumm let me think about that."
"You!" he said, and then reached over and tickled my sides as I squirmed and giggled. Then, he reached down and gave me a quick peck on the neck. "Let's eat."
I giggled seductively. "What do you have in mind?"
Logan rolled his eyes. "That? Maybe later."
I laughed at the expression on his face. "What did you make?"
"Voila! Pasta primavera." He uncovered the bowl dramatically as if uncovering a masterpiece.
And to me, it was. "Wow! It looks delicious! It smelled so good when I came in that it was driving me crazy!"
He laughed. "I also made garlic bread to go along with it." He gestured to the bowl filled with pasta. "Help yourself."
I took the spoon and scooped out a healthy amount and plopped it onto my plate as mozzarella cheese stretched from the spoon to the plate and steam rolled to the ceiling. "This looks delicious. You're going to have to show me how to make it."
He shrugged. "It was easy." He scooped some onto his plate and took a small bite, waving at his mouth from the heat.
"Be careful. It's hot," I teased.
He let out a mock exasperated breath. "Now you tell me!"
I laughed at the goofy expression on his face, and then he suddenly turned serious. "So, tell me about your family. What was it like while growing up?"
I swallowed the luscious bite of rich, decadent pasta in my mouth and took another sip of wine. "My father, James, teaches English at the local high school, and my mother teaches first grade at the local elementary school."
"Oh. So your parents were teachers at your school?" he said, laughing. "So, I take it that you didn't get by with anything."
I rolled my eyes. "You have no idea! Once when I was in high school, I went back out to my car because I forgot my homework and my father was waiting for me outside of the school when I came back in, wondering what was wrong."
He laughed. "You've got to be kidding me!"
I shook my head as I let out a deep breath. "No; I'm not. Another teacher saw me walk out the door and called my father immediately. Believe me, you don't get by with anything when you're a teacher's child."
