Another relationship to screw up was the last thing she needed.
2
“WE’RE ALMOST THERE,” SAID the brunette puddle-jumper pilot named Juliette who’d picked Logan up in Anchorage.
His heart beat faster as he looked out over the buildings below. Jenna was down there. He was possibly minutes from seeing her again for the first time in twelve years.
The woman confounded him. He couldn’t seem to shake the attraction he’d always had for her, especially considering that little Homecoming incident.
And dammit, he’d dreamed about her almost every night since his secretary had booked this trip. Steamy, sultry erotic dreams where he was making love to her and she was beneath him, on top of him, beside him. The hell of it was, every time he had one of those dreams, it ended just before either of them climaxed. He’d wake up in a sweat with a raging hard-on. How could a woman he hadn’t seen in years, one he hadn’t even really known, affect him this way? It was enough to drive a man insane.
Surely it was just a matter of pride. He told himself he was eager to see her so she could see the geek she’d tried to prank had turned out okay. There was something to be said for the old adage that success was the best revenge. Not that he wanted any kind of revenge but he did feel the need for her to see firsthand just how successful he’d become.
It might be a family business, but nothing had been a given. If anything, carrying the Jeffries name meant you had to prove yourself that much more, to live up to the family legacy. And it came with both personal and professional expectations. He really wasn’t surprised his mother had enlisted Martina in finding him a potential spouse. Marriage and procreation fell next on the Jeffries obligation list.
Besides, he was admittedly looking forward to playing the hero. He was about to make the dreams come true of everyone living in Jenna’s little town. That was the only reason he wanted to see her.
It was not because he still had a thing for her after all this time. That would qualify as irrational. And it wouldn’t make any sense. Logan didn’t do irrational or senseless. No, he just wanted Jenna to see he’d done well for himself.
True to the satellite images, topographical maps and reports he’d read, a road bisected two rows of buildings. Twilight and snow encompassed the town ringed by towering evergreens. The ruggedness echoed the set designs for the western movies he’d always liked so much as a kid, except this town wasn’t located in the middle of a desert.
“I’ll have us down in a second,” Juliette, the pilot, said. He glanced over at the brunette.
“Good deal.”
She radioed for clearance to land. Really, there was something warped about his thinking. Juliette was very attractive, obviously intelligent from the conversation they’d had on the way out about flying and Alaska, and about his age.
He wasn’t remotely interested in her other than as the pilot getting him to Good Riddance. Instead he couldn’t get Jenna Rathburne out of his head. Those dreams had definitely screwed with his head and his rational thought processes.
A few minutes later they were on the ground, snow falling thick and fast from the heavy blanket of gray clouds.
“Here we are. Hopefully your luggage will make it sooner rather than later,” Juliette said.
Logan nodded and climbed out of the plane. The snow swirled around him, crisp, cold and fresh. In the distance, the air rang with the sound of barking dogs interspersed with children’s laughter along with the unmistakable hum of a diesel engine. He shivered and zipped his jacket. It was damn cold out here.
Because he’d been traveling, he had dressed lighter. Still, he’d dressed the part, trading business suits and business casual for boots, jeans and a flannel shirt he’d worn on trips to field operations in the past. He’d fully planned to retrieve his heavier jacket and gloves once he’d arrived in Anchorage. He’d arrived but his suitcase hadn’t. He really didn’t like it when things didn’t go according to plan, but there’d been nothing he could do about it.
Logan walked beside Juliette across the open expanse between the small runway and the log building, heading toward a door next to a sign that read Good Riddance Air Strip and Bed and Breakfast. On the far right side of the building, another sign outside yet another door proclaimed, “Welcome to Gus’s,” exactly as it had been described in the scouting report. A few months ago, one of Chaz’s team had been sent in, as a tourist, to assess the area, the people, the infrastructure and then compile a report which was part of the recommendations criteria.
Logan followed the pilot into the toasty-warm room, pausing inside to wipe his feet on the mat and brush the snow off his shoulders and hair. An older woman, about his mother’s age, dressed in jeans and a lace-trimmed flannel shirt, stepped forward to greet him.
“You must be Mr. Jeffries.” Her soft Southern accent once again brought his mother to mind, although his mother wouldn’t be caught dead in anything flannel. “I’m Merrilee Danville Swenson. As town founder and mayor, I’d like to welcome you to Good Riddance, where you can leave behind what ails you.”
Juliette had mentioned the town motto on the flight in. That had not been in the reports package.
Her handshake was firm and to the point. Logan immediately liked her. Her cooperation would be pivotal in buying out the town. He offered his most charming smile. “I’m pleased to meet you, Mrs. Swenson, and I’m pleased to be here.”
He had been surprised to discover a woman had founded this place out in the middle of the wilderness. However, it was exactly that pioneering spirit that would serve her well in relocating her little town. He even had a couple of locations to suggest when they sat down to discuss business. He planned to do that tomorrow. He wanted to establish a rapport with her and meet some of the townspeople before he broached the subject of the buy-out.
She smiled. “Call me Merrilee. Everyone does.”
“And I’m Logan.” They were off to a good start.
“Good. We don’t stand on ceremony here. There’s fresh coffee—” she indicated a small table set up as a beverage station “—help yourself. And don’t be shy with the oatmeal cookies, either. Juliette and I need to go over a few things so we can get her back in the air and then I’ll be right with you.”
“Sure. Take your time.”
While Juliette went over paperwork with the older woman, he poured a cup of coffee, snagged a cookie … and then another since he was starving, and studied the room.
Not that he hadn’t expected it but this was vastly different from the office space he worked in every day. Photographs covered one of the chinked-log walls. There was a love seat and two armchairs clustered around a television set in one corner. Flannel curtains hung at the windows and a braided rug covered a large expanse of the wood floor.
He blew on his drink and sipped. Strong and dark, it blazed a warm trail through him. And something smelled damn good.
He concurred with the recommendation put forth in the report. The airstrip and this building would be an asset as the mining operation was set up. It sat far enough on the perimeter to be functional, while the rest of the buildings would, in all probability, be bulldozed down. This, however, would make the perfect headquarters site, especially with the attached restaurant. They couldn’t have asked for anything better.
A pot-bellied stove sat to the right of the room. An old man with a long white beard sat in a rocking chair on one side of a chess set, muttering to himself. The rocker on the opposite side sat empty.
“Enjoy your stay,” Juliette said, sending a friendly smile his way as she headed back out the door.
“Will do. Thanks again.”
When the door closed