“You are. Defy Gravity has taken over your life, and now—sur-fucking-prise—you’re burned out. I don’t know if you remember, but when you started the company, all you really wanted was a better spring-locking carabiner. It was all about climbing faster and higher. But now”—he shook his head—“how long has it been since you climbed anything more challenging than a flight of stairs?”
The sentiments echoed the ones that had been expressed by his family, and his CFO, and frankly, the thoughts he’d had circling around in his head for too long now, but it irritated him to hear yet another person pegging him as the primary roadblock to his own happiness.
“I have obligations to investors and employees now, and different priorities.”
“You have an obligation to yourself, too—to have a life. How long has it been since you took a vacation? A real vacation, not a friend’s wedding,” Colt added when Logan looked around the lobby as if to say, am I not standing in the middle of a resort?
“Name the last good book you read, or movie you saw, or…I don’t know…when was the last time you got so wrapped up in a woman you forgot to check your messages?”
Something told him blurting out, “Last night, with your sister,” wasn’t the way to break that particular news to Colt, so he said, “Are you telling me if I want to get what you have with Kady, I’m going to have to make some sacrifices? Believe it or not, I do realize that.”
No shit. Especially since the woman he wanted to get wrapped up in would detest practically everything about what passed for his social life. He couldn’t imagine asking Sophie to be his date for a board dinner or a party for DG’s biggest West Coast distributors. She’d run from crap like that so fast he’d need a zip line to catch her. Unlike most of the other women he’d dated, Sophie would not fold easily into his existing life. They lived in different states, and she wasn’t interested in attending corporate events or charity functions. Getting to know her meant spending time together on her terms. Finding that time meant letting go of some responsibilities.
“Thing is, when the motivation is right, you don’t feel like you’re sacrificing one damn thing. You feel like everything is finally falling into place, and suddenly, all those obligations you had to shoulder yourself are miraculously delegable. And you realize you’ve been holding yourself back, and holding your business back, out of some misplaced sense of pride or duty.”
He dumped his phone into his pocket and looked into his best friend’s face…his smug, got-my-shit-together face. “You’re telling me to give something up.”
“I’m telling you to examine your priorities and make sure they reflect what you want now.” He shrugged. “People evolve. What seemed like a dream come true at twenty-five might seem like a grind by thirty-five. Life changes.”
Kady approached, visibly relieved that her brother and her friend were alive and well, but the twinkle in her eyes promised Colt the morning’s excitement wasn’t over yet. “Life changes,” his friend repeated, took his bride-to-be’s hand, and strolled out of the lobby.
Yeah. Logan’s phone vibrated again. Whatever waited on the other end of that call wouldn’t be life-changing. It would be more of the same. He headed for the elevator and pressed the button for the sixth floor, because the best change to hit his life in the last year currently occupied room 612.
Chapter Eight
Sophie stared at her laptop and reread the email at the top of the screen. The one from her boss that started with the word “Congratulations” and ended with a reminder to order updated business cards to reflect her new title as lead web designer. In between was a whole bunch of stuff about how happy the client was with her proposal, and how eager they were to kick off the project when she returned.
She hugged herself and did a booty-shaking version of a happy dance while a fireworks finale of pride and happiness exploded inside her. Yes, there were a couple fizzles of nerves in the mix, but those were normal. New Sophie hadn’t hatched overnight, but she was slowly emerging from the confining cocoon she’d called home for so long.
She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror over the bureau and grinned at the bright-eyed woman staring back at her wearing workout clothes and a rosy glow from her early-morning stint at the gym. Check you. New look, new job, and, after last night, a few new experiences to store in the “passion and excitement” file.
A few? What an understatement. Hopefully it would last her, because she probably wasn’t getting any more new experiences with Logan. She’d heard the irritation in his voice loud and clear when he’d made that snide comment to Brock that morning in the lobby. He was pissed that she’d left without so much as a “See you around.” Who could blame him?
Not that he’d spend a whole lot of time thinking about her behavior. Regan had him in her crosshairs, and she’d smooth out all his irritation. They were probably cozied up together at this very minute, getting to know each other better.
The notion depressed her enough to make her want to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head, but a knock at the door cut the impulse short. She crossed the room, looked through the peephole, and nearly collapsed from shock. Logan stood outside her door.
Her knee-jerk reaction to slump down and pretend to be out was strong, but she shoved the instinct aside. Hiding behind the door was a little too cowardly—even for her. She dried her damp palm on her shirt, silently ordered herself to calm down, and then opened the door.
“Logan.”
“Sophie.”
His expression gave nothing away. The Mr. Perfect mask was firmly in place. “Do you…um…need something?”
“Yeah. I do.” With that he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her up against him. Before she could say a word, he had his hard thigh between hers, one big hand splayed over her butt and the other curved along the back of her neck. She was holding on to his shoulders like he was the only solid thing in her world.
“Why aren’t you with Reg—?”
She didn’t get to finish the self-defeating question, thank God, because his mouth was on hers, and that’s all it took to drive thoughts of Regan, and bridesmaids’ bets, and every other darn thing right out of her head. Her eyelids fluttered like flags of surrender, and then lowered completely, and all she could do was feel. Him. His mouth moving over hers, fast and rough—just a little bit punishing—and she knew she hadn’t imagined the annoyance she sensed earlier. She wanted to apologize, to explain she was ill-equipped to handle a morning after a night like last night, but as soon as her lips parted, his tongue slipped between them and proceeded to lay claim to every susceptible part of her mouth.
Vaguely she felt his thumb press the corner of her jaw, coaxing her open even more, but his coaxing was unnecessary. She tightened her grip on his shoulders, tipped her head back into the support of his hand, and gave herself to the kiss with abandon.
She wanted it to go on forever—the slick slide of his tongue over hers, the scrape of his teeth against her lips—and so she groaned when he started to draw away. As if he understood, he ended the kiss in stages, withdrawing by degree so as not to leave her plundered mouth suddenly empty and aching for him. Still she chased his departing lips, going up onto her tiptoes for one last, clinging contact.
Now he groa
ned, too, and cupped her jaw to keep her in place as he eased away. “What are you doing right now?”
You, she hoped, but she shook her head and replied, “No plans. I was checking my emails. I’m still in a state of shock because I just found out I got the promotion at work.”
His smile was immediate and genuine. “Congratulations. This calls for a celebration. Come with me.” He took her hand and tugged her out the door.
“Wait. I need my room key.”
He let her go and held the door open while she retrieved it from the nightstand. Her body hummed with anticipation for the celebration. Primed to the point that she could barely stand the thought of walking all the way down the hall to his room. She didn’t know what was wrong with her room, considering it was virtually identical to his, with the added benefit of being right here…but whatever. She quickened her steps, brushed past him into the hall, and turned toward his room. Maybe Logan liked the home court advantage? Except…he didn’t take it. He clasped her hand and led her to the elevator, away from his room.
“Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.” He nudged her into the elevator when she hung back. Then followed her in and hit the button for the lobby.
Okay, that was a surprise, because she somehow doubted he intended to have sex with her in the lobby. The hormone combustion his kiss had lit inside her fizzled as concern set in. “Logan, I’m not dressed to go anywhere.”
“You’re dressed perfectly for what I have in mind.”
She glanced at him from under lowered lashes. Was this “surprise” some kind of payback for sneaking out of his room? He didn’t look upset. In fact, he looked relaxed and…pleased.
When the elevator stopped he took her hand and led her across the lobby. Within moments they were out the double doors of the resort and following an “Adventure Trail” that the signage indicated led to a whole bunch of stuff that made her palms sweat. Destinations included the Corkscrew, Bear Trap, Half Pipe and something called the Wall. None of them sounded like the kind of adventure she would survive.