Rumor had it there was a guy in the next city who, after one date with Elena, had moved back in with his mother and was now raising bunny rabbits.
Inhaling a fortifying breath, Logan began strolling toward the kissing booth. As if sensing his destination, the people in front of him parted, clearing his path just the way the citizens of Dodge City cleared a path for the white-hatted sheriff in a bad Western.
He shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn jeans and ignored the chug of his blood pulsing through his veins. He hoped like hell his face was expressionless. Conventional wisdom said it wasn’t smart to show fear around animals that bite.
The senior prom committee’s booth was situated in the shade of mature trees and had a fanciful, castle-like facade that was painted white and decorated with bright pink and red tissue-paper flowers. The colors framed Elena’s vibrant beauty perfectly, and as Logan approached she raised her black brows in twin arches just as perfect.
He shoved his hands deeper in his pockets and curved his lips in what he hoped appeared a relaxed, casual smile. “Hey, there,” he said, bracing for the expected verbal lashing.
An overlarge, empty glass fishbowl sat on the booth’s narrow countertop. It was where the kiss money was supposed to go, and in other years the thing had overflowed with bills. Elena didn’t spare it a glance as she slowly slid from a high stool to land on the soles of her sneakers. “What do you want?” she asked, her tone on the low end of the truculence scale.
Well, good. Apparently she didn’t immediately assume he was after a kiss, which would be sure to set her hackles rising. “I, um, just thought I’d say hi.”
“Yeah?” As usual, she wasn’t much impressed with him. “Hi.” Her gaze fell to the toes of her shoes.
Something about the short response put Logan on alert. The truth was, he’d accidentally and unfortunately stood her up two weeks ago, the night of the wedding rehearsal dinner. Given their past history and the daggers she’d thrown with her eyes all the way down the church aisle, he’d been convinced she’d take this opportunity to launch a full-on verbal assault.
“Is something wrong?” he asked warily.
Instead of answering, she flushed.
Logan’s jaw dropped. With her gaze still on her feet, he could only see the top of her head and the red color crawling up her neck. He didn’t know what to think. She was never subdued, shy or, for that matter, even civil around him. “Are you sick?” he asked.
Her head jerked up. “Is that what they’re saying?”
She sounded hopeful, Logan thought, still trying to comprehend her out-of-character reserve.
“Is that it?” she insisted, that hopeful note intensifying. “Does everyone think I’m contagious or something?”
He couldn’t lie to her. “No,” he answered, stepping forward. “But, uh, Elena…”
“Never mind.” She scuttled back against the stool. “I didn’t really think so.” As if to prove she was in her usual fine fettle, she lifted her chin to half glower at him.
Still puzzled, Logan studied her face. There was definitely a flush on her skin, and he was certain it wasn’t a fever or even a flush of ill temper. Hell. It couldn’t be, it wasn’t possible, was it? Was Elena truly bothered by her lack of business?
Damn it, that wouldn’t make things any easier. He’d come over here to help out the senior prom fund. To save noble knight Tyler from Elena’s wrath, and possibly a career in the rabbit industry. She’d murder Logan if she somehow leaped to the conclusion he was here to buy a kiss to save her from humiliation.
But Elena humiliated? It just didn’t seem possible.
Not sure what to believe, he decided to postpone immediate action by smiling again, trying once more to appear friendly. “Have you heard from Griffin and Annie?” The two were on their honeymoon, touring Europe.
“Yeah,” she said softly. “A postcard from France.” The corners of her mouth lifted in a sweet, genuine smile.
Uh-oh. At the sight of that enchanting smile, Logan felt his knees go weak. His brain stuttered as whatever amount of blood supposed to keep the top half of his body in working order instantly rushed lower.
Her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened. “What’s wrong with you?” she demanded.
He sucked in a quick, desperate breath. “N-nothing.” With another breath, his voice got stronger. “Not a thing.”
She relaxed slightly, though her eyes remained watchful. “Okay.”
Whew. That was a close one. A really close one. Elena hated when a man displayed a reaction to her beauty. Particularly when he did. But it was an impossibly difficult thing to control so instead he just took great pains to hide it.
With a show of nonchalance, he stepped closer and leaned casually against the side of the booth. “I met your sister.”
Her face brightened, that smile threatening to blossom again. God, she was gorgeous.
“You met Gabby? She’s here?”
Logan nodded. “With Tyler Evans, who I’m guessing is her boyfriend.”
Elena shrugged. “I suppose. One of those casual things, though. Gabby’s going to UC Berkeley in the fall.” Her voice filled with pride. “Pre-med.”
Impressed, Logan raised his eyebrows. “Tyler just told me she’s an artist too.”
“Mm. A hobby.” She raised her shoulders in a little shrug. “But it’s her brains that will take her farthest.”
Her dismissal of Gabby’s other talents rankled Logan. “Yes, but—” He bit back the words, thinking better of exposing his personal raw spots. “I’m sure she’ll be a success at whatever she chooses.”
“That’s right,” Elena replied. “Gabby’s going to have everything. Perfect prom, perfect graduation—”
“Perfect pre-med college life,” he finished for her wryly.
She apparently hadn’t caught his tone because for once she smiled as if she really liked him. “Exactly. That’s what we’ve been working for.”
We? That earlier rankle edged into a strange worry. “Elena…”
“Hmm?” she said absently, her gaze drifting over his shoulder.
Logan turned, saw a man walking toward the kissing booth, then saw the man suddenly recognize the woman on the other side of the counter. The man abruptly spun about, and hastily got in line at the booth supporting the local children’s hospital, as if that was his chosen destination all the while.
“Well,” Logan said with a laugh. “It should be interesting to see how they do a Caribbean thread-wrap on that guy’s hair.” The man was completely bald.
When she didn’t answer, he swung around. Her eyes appeared so blue their color hit him like a blow, and he suddenly realized there were tears in them. He swallowed, feeling almost sick. “Elena—”
“Don’t. Don’t say anything.” Her voice was tight. “I’m in this dumb booth for Gabby. I don’t care, do you understand?”
Even though her eyes were watery, she could still pin him painfully with her glare. “And if you try to tell anybody, anybody I was crying over something as stupid as that man not wanting to buy a kiss from me, I’ll…I’ll…”
It was testament to how truly upset she was that she couldn’t complete her threat. “Boil my