"I hear you," Tess said. "And I love you all too. Now stop worrying about me."
"Well, now that you're at least answering your calls, I feel a drop better," Charles said. "But only a drop."
"You'll be fine," Tess assured him. "How are the kids, big ones and baby one?"
"Everyone's fine. But I think Charlotte misses her favorite aunt."
"Aww, my little bean. I miss her too." Tess heard the slam of a heavy door outside, likely a truck, and realized it was probably Logan. Her heart gave a strange tiny flutter at the thought of him. "Look, I have to go. Logan Carter just got here."
"Ah, Logan. Good to know he's around. Tell him hello for me." Charles paused. "You sure you're all right?"
"Stop mothering me!" Tess said with a laugh. "That's my job, being the mother hen of the family."
"Well, with you leaving town," Charles said, "guess I'll have to pick up that title for a while. I am the oldest."
"Go for it. If you want to wear the tiara, it's somewhere in my basement." Tess sat up just as the doorbell rang. "Talk to you soon, sweetie. Gotta run."
"Yes, we will talk again soon," Charles said. "Take care."
"I will. You too." She set down the phone beside her water glass on the coffee table, then went to answer the door.
"Hey, Tess," Logan said with a twitch of a grin. "Just wanted to let you know I'm here, so when you hear noises out back you won't worry."
"Hi yourself. Okay." She did a quick once-over. The ends of his thick blond hair peeked out from beneath a navy wool cap, brushing just past his strong chin, and he wore his usual work attire of hoodie under his royal-blue jacket, jeans, and work boots. His ruddy cheeks and gloves on his hands were the only things that hinted he might be cold, though it hadn't even reached thirty degrees that day. "Long day at work?"
"Same as usual," he said. "No big shakes. How are you? You settling in okay?"
"Yes, I am, thanks." She swept her hair back from her face. "Can I get you a drink? Some water, or hot tea?"
"No, thanks, I have water in the truck," he said. "Just gonna take out the trash, then check your wood supply."
"I haven't lit a fire yet," she said. "I've been out as much as in. Maybe tonight. But hey, I went by the yoga center. You were right, what a difference! It's so much bigger!"
He nodded, his breath forming as white puffs against the cold air.
"I saw Sami-Jo, she was glad you sent me," Tess continued.
At that, he grinned. "Cool. She's a sweet lady."
"She really is." Tess leaned her hip against the door frame. "I'm going to have a one-on-one with a trainer, Susan, who'll come up here to the house for that, and I'll go there to take classes twice a week with Carrie. Do you know either of them? You seem to be like the town mayor."
For a split second, she caught a strange look in his light green eyes . . . like he'd been caught at something, maybe? But he merely said, "Yeah, I know Carrie. Susan's new, I guess. Good luck with all that."
Something about that quick, odd look intrigued Tess, and she wanted to keep him talking. "Thanks. I take yoga classes at home, but I'm upping it here with the extra personal session. I feel so good after I've done it. You ever done any yoga?"
"Me?" He laughed, making the creases by his eyes crinkle appealingly. "Hell no. But I hear people who do it love it."
"I guess you get enough of a workout just doing your job day to day," Tess said.
"Some days I do." He adjusted his hat a little, pushing strands of his long blond hair away from his eyes. "I still hit the gym a few times a week for weights and some cardio. Yoga, that's just not my thing. But kudos to you for doing it. Any physical activity is good."
"Agreed." She had a fleeting vision of him lifting weights in the gym, his biceps straining and sweat dripping down his neck . . . It was a delicious thought. "I want to hit the slopes next week, but I also love long walks. In fact, I went hiking myself this morning before I went into town. I'll do that two or three times a week, I think."
"Wait, you went up the mountain? By yourself?"
"Yessss," she said. She stepped back and held out her arms to give him a full view of her. "And as you can see, I made it back just fine. This city girl can take care of herself."
"Well. We've covered that before." He scrubbed a hand over his face and something in his eyes shuttered. The change in his demeanor surprised her. He'd gone from teasing to something dark so quickly. It made the joking smile slide off her face.
He cleared his throat and said, "I'd better get to work. Just wanted to get it done before sunset, and I've got about"-he glanced up at the sky, shades of deep blue with hints of pink in the wispy clouds-"maybe half an hour of decent light left."
She simply nodded. "I won't keep you, then. Thank you, Logan."
"Yup. Glad to hear you're settling in fine. Talk to you soon." He turned away and went down the steps. "Have a good night," he called over his shoulder before heading around the side of the house.
"You too," she called back before closing the door. He used to be friendlier to her, and it ate at her . . . She wished she knew if she'd said or done something to offend him.
Bubbles came scampering to her, yipping and wagging her tail. Tess crouched to pet her and cooed, "Are you hungry, little miss? Do I need to feed you now?"
Bubbles barked and wiggled in response.
"Okay, Bubs. C'mon, let's feed you." Tess walked through to the kitchen, her mind preoccupied with thoughts about the ruggedly gorgeous blond man out in her backyard. The more she learned about him, it seemed, the more there was to learn. She was definitely intrigued enough to find out. He interested her, it was that simple. Logan Carter was more complicated and layered than he seemed. She'd seen flashes of gruff or guarded moments, enough to suspect that his easygoing, self-assured outside was hiding something darker and more compelling inside. Somehow, over her time there, maybe she could get him to tell her his story.
Chapter Four
Logan got back to his apartment at seven, having put in a full day. He'd gotten up at six thirty to hit the gym for a workout, then gone to several houses over the course of the day. All in all, the day had flown by and he couldn't complain.
After a quick shower, he changed into a soft gray sweatshirt and navy track pants, then stretched out on his living room couch to relax for a few minutes before deciding which movie to watch that night. A few rays of moonlight shone through the far windows, slanting lines of light onto his dark brown walls. He pillowed his arms behind his head and considered his current life.
Things were fine. No drama, no angst, everything on a pretty even keel. His quiet life kept him busy, he helped people, and he was doing honest work and getting paid decently for it. His schedule was his to manage, his boss treated him well, and his clients, for the most part, were respectful and glad to have him around. It was the simple, quiet life he'd once longed for, and grateful he had now.
Being on his own was what was best for him. He almost never thought of Rachel anymore, which was how it should be. She was out there living her life, and he was living his. He dated sporadically, never letting it get too deep or complicated. Yes, women approached him, but except for an occasional night here and there, he preferred his solitude. He'd carefully crafted his post – New Orleans life that way. Fewer ties meant fewer people to hurt or disappoint.
He had friends here, a small handful which suited him fine; he'd never been comfortable as part of a big social circle anyway. His older brother had married right out of college and gone to live near his wife's family out in Portland; Shane only came to Aspen once a year now, usually in summer, when his four kids were off from school. Long ago, Logan had made peace with the fact that they led very different lives. Sometimes he thought of his dad and missed him, but that was normal, especially around the holidays.
Just the other day, on Christmas, Logan commented how he couldn't believe it'd been twenty-three years now since his dad had passed. His mom had sighed and nodded . . . She also keenly felt every one of those twenty-three Christmases she'd spent without him. She'd been so devoted to Wyatt Carter that even though a car crash had left her a widow at forty-two, she'd never married again.