Except that after their one-week, holy-shit-hot affair, he’d left Lucky Harbor, gone back to the racing world, and then proceeded to do nothing but think of her. He’d called her. What had he said? Hell, he couldn’t remember. Probably just “hey,” but she hadn’t returned the call. He’d had his manager send a round-trip ticket to his next race, but she hadn’t shown up.
He could admit, he’d been surprised. Disconcerted.
And utterly bewildered.
People called him back. Women called him back. He’d busied himself with his season, telling himself it didn’t matter. There were other women, lots of them.
But not a single one had attracted him. It’d been five months since he’d seen or heard from Sandy, and he should have been over it, but he wasn’t. So he’d come to see why…
Sexy Claus was tugging at something behind her, and swearing the air blue. “Goddamn, stupid, shitty, crappy, piece-of-shit zipper…”
“Do you kiss Mrs. Claus with that mouth?” he teased.
She stopped wriggling and narrowed her eyes at him.
Okay, so she wasn’t amused. He’d figured they’d be naked by now, sweaty and working their way toward round two.
And three…
“Need help?” he asked.
“Not from you.”
There was no one else in the parking lot. Across the street was the diner and the pier, and that lot was full. There was a group of Christmas carolers standing outside the diner, doing a rowdy rendition of “Jingle Bells.”
Sandy yanked off the wire-rimmed glasses and began to look more like herself. Well, except for that red suit, which was making her look wider than she was tall.
“And what are you even doing here?” she asked, but then, without waiting for an answer, she reached past him and unlocked her door, tossing in her purse, the Santa hat, and the wig. She tried to slide in behind the wheel, but she wouldn’t fit with her padded belly. “Cheese and rice!” she burst out, and with a deep sigh, dropped her head to the roof of her car and thunked it a few times.
“You’re going to rattle something loose,” Logan said.
She turned only her head and gave him an eat-shit-and-die look. “It’s been five months, Logan.”
Right to the heart. That was Sandy. She knew no other way. Out of all the women he’d known-and there’d been quite a few-she was the most open, the most direct. The most hardheaded. It was a huge part of the attraction for him, how she kept her own mind and didn’t take any shit from him. He dropped the smile and got serious. “I told you I’d be back.”
“Someday. You said you’d be back someday. You tell all the women that!”
Well, he’d meant it when he’d said it. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t. Maybe it had been a line, but he’d changed. From the moment he’d left her, he’d changed. Not that she wanted to hear that from him right now. “It was a busy season, and I couldn’t get away. If you’d have come to see me, this would have been a lot easier.”
“I didn’t want to be that girl.”
“What girl?”
She sighed. “The one who e-mails you her entire heart and then chases you around the whole frigging world.”
“I usually stay within the continental United States.”
This earned him another sigh.
Across the street, the carolers switched to “Oh Holy Night.”
“And what e-mail?” Logan asked.
“You know what e-mail,” she said, and she turned slightly, presenting him with her back. “Undo me.”
“Is this a sexual invitation?”
She craned her neck and eyed him long and hard.
Okay, not a sexual invitation. Got it. He gently stroked her hair from her nape and reached for the zipper of the Santa costume, brushing her creamy skin with his fingertips.
She shivered, and he went still. Coincidence? To test, he ran the pad of his thumb over the same spot, and she shivered again. Ah, he thought with a surge of fierce relief. She wasn’t completely over him, at least not yet. “I didn’t get any e-mails, Sandy.”
“Fine, so I went to spam. Whatever. I didn’t get any e-mails from you at all.”
This was true. He was more of an in-person sort of guy. “Know what I wished for from Santa?” he asked quietly.
She remained silent, but he knew by the stillness of her body that she was listening. She’d always listened to him, like no other. She’d listened, and she’d cared. He’d underestimated how much that meant to him. His fault. He’d clearly hurt her. Also his fault. But he was good at turning shit around.
“I wished for you,” he said, and slowly unzipped her. His heart caught as the costume opened, revealing more creamy skin.
And nothing else.
Her breathing quickened, and so did his.
“Logan,” she whispered.
“Yeah, babe?” Anything. God, anything you want. My car, my wallet, my life…
At the base of her spine, he ran into red silk. Before he could get any farther, she stepped clear and shrugged, and the Santa suit fell away, revealing the petite but lushly curved Sandy wearing a slinky red dress that made his mouth water. “There you are,” he managed.
“Thanks.” Bending, she scooped up the costume and shoved it into her car. “Appreciate it.”
“What are you doing now?” he asked.
“Now?”
“Yes, right now. Let’s go talk.”
“I have a very busy schedule,” she said. She glanced around her and narrowed her gaze on a group of carolers standing outside the diner across the street. “I’m supposed to be caroling. I have a date to be caroling.”
She was making that up right on the spot. He knew it. She knew it. “You have a date. Caroling.”
“That’s right. He’s probably over there right now, wondering why I’m standing here talking to you instead of holding his hand and singing with him.” She gave him a narrow-eyed look. “You don’t believe I could get a date? Because I have lots of dates.”
She was warm, soft, sexy, and adorable. He believed she could date anyone she set her mind to. But no, he didn’t believe she had a date tonight, caroling. “You’d best hurry over there then. Looks like they’re getting ready to move on. I wouldn’t want you to stand anyone up.”
She lifted her chin to nose-bleed heights and crossed the street.
Logan remained where he was, watching. When Sandy walked up to the group of carolers, she glanced back.
He waved.
It was dark so he couldn’t be sure, but he thought maybe she bared her teeth at him before sidling up to one of the men. Then she glanced back again and shot Logan a “see?” look.
Logan gestured that she should do her thing. Sandy hesitated, then slipped her arm in the man’s.
This earned her a startled stare; then the guy disentangled himself and shifted closer to the man on the other side of him. That man then curled a possessive arm around Sandy’s “date,” and they both shifted away from her.
Logan grinned.
The carolers finished their song and moved on.
Sandy came back across the street, and without a word to him, slid behind the wheel of her car, clearly intending to leave. She was a speedy thing.
But he was speedier. He blocked her move by stepping close, one hand on the roof, the other on the door, as he crouched down to look into her face.
Her eyes met his and softened, but then she shook her head and closed them. “Okay, so I didn’t have a date tonight. Dammit.”
“Sandy.”
With a sigh, she opened them again, and leveled him with those killer baby blues, which were filled with a shocking, staggering sadness. “Hey,” he said gently, and unable to help himself, leaned in and kissed her lightly. “Missed you.”
“Oh, Logan,” she whispered, as if maybe she’d missed him too, but there was something in her voice that disturbed him.
She didn’t believe him. “I should have told you sooner,” he said. “I’ve been thinking about you. Wanting you.”