Your B&B or Mine Page 10

  A dozen moments flashed through his mind—small comments from Savannah in high school, and the time she got stranded on the boat. She could have put the battery in herself—she definitely knew how—but she asked Logan to do it, to stay and ride back with her just to be safe. Had that all been to spend time with him?

  Maybe he wasn’t merely a replacement for Will after all. Maybe Will had been the replacement for him.

  “Care to help an old lady to the meeting?” Mrs. Cooke took his arm and started toward the courthouse, making Logan unable to do anything but follow along. They walked up the side steps, where the wooden door was propped open so anyone interested could come in to listen.

  Mrs. Cooke patted Logan’s cheek as she stepped away from him.

  “Thank you, dear. You were always a nice boy. It’s a wonderful thing to see you become such a good man. And something tells me I’m not the only one to notice how good you are. How good you’ve always been.” She nodded to the second to last row of chairs, where Savannah sat beside Leigh, and Logan’s stomach clenched tight.

  “Right.”

  Logan’s phone vibrated inside his pocket, saving him from the conversation, and giving him an opportunity to step out so he could think. He pulled his cell out and motioned to the door. “Sorry, I need to take this.”

  “Of course, dear.”

  “Park,” Logan said, once he was outside.

  “Logan? It’s Chloe.”

  He grinned. “I think we’ve been over this.”

  “Right, right. So, listen. I have a problem. I was trying to add your signature to the Jekyll Island property contract, but it keeps saying I don’t have authorization to edit the document. Do you know the password? Why is it protected anyway? Are you planning to fire me and haven’t told me yet, because if you are then—”

  Logan sighed heavily. “I’m not firing you. I have no idea why it’s protected, but if you could put the file on the server, I can e-sign it tonight and resave it for you. Then just print the document and mail it tomorrow.”

  “Oh my God, so you’re not firing me? That’s what my boyfriend said when I called him, but then this file thing happened, and I thought—”

  Logan watched through the open door as Mayor Kitchings hobbled to the front of the room, gavel in hand to start the meeting. His gray hair was combed over his bald spot, and like always, he wore khaki pants and a plaid button down. It could be the middle of a heat wave, Logan thought, and the mayor would be in his plaid.

  “I’m sorry, Chloe. Can I call you back?”

  “Oh! Sorry, I know you’re busy. Sure. I’ll put the file on the server.”

  “Thank you. Just print and mail it tomorrow. Okay?”

  “Will do. And Logan?”

  “Yes?”

  “Thanks for not firing me.”

  Logan laughed. “Anytime.”

  He slipped back inside just as Mayor Kitchings hit the gavel against the podium, signaling for everyone to quiet down. Folding chairs sat in straight lines, five by ten, then a wide aisle, and another section of five by ten. Logan doubted a hundred people from the town would show, but then he’d been surprised before.

  He took his seat in the row behind Savannah and leaned back in his chair, fighting the urge to ask her if they could talk, to find out if what Mrs. Cooke suggested was true. But the truth was, he wasn’t ready to ask her. He had to see if she still had feelings for him. Otherwise, he’d dredge up all these old emotions for nothing. But how could he find out without asking her outright?

  Others from town filtered in, and Logan tried to put this new revelation out of his mind, at least until he figured out what to do. It was the first time Logan had ever sat in on a town hall meeting, but with his firm taking over the bed-and-breakfast soon, he felt it necessary to learn how they worked. And Logan knew the mayor would ask the Hales about the B and B, and he wanted to hear what Savannah would say. She’d yet to officially take it over, and he wondered about her plans for it. A part of him knew he should convince her to leave, to sell it. It was better for the firm, but the truth was he didn’t want to see her go.

  “First things first, we need to confirm station directors for Maple’s spring fair next week. I believe we’ve created a tentative list.” He motioned to Martha Long, his long time administrative assistant, who passed him a sheet of paper. “Ah, here we go. There will be ten stations, each run by a business owner. Any objections?” When no one argued, he continued. “Savannah Hale?”

  Savannah’s head snapped up from where she sat in the row ahead of Logan’s. “Yes?”

  “We have you covering for the bed-and-breakfast. Is that fine with you?”

  “Of course.”

  “Good, then,” he said, his gray brows knitting together as he read the list. “You will cover the kissing booth. The station will be at the end of Main Street, right before you reach the bed-and-breakfast. Martha will email you the details and—”

  Savannah jumped up. “Wait. Sorry, Mayor Kitchings, but what did you say I was covering?”

  “The kissing booth,” Logan answered for the mayor, having a little too much fun with this fact. He fought the urge to laugh, sure that if he did, Savannah would have all his things out on the front porch of the bed-and-breakfast before he made it back there.

  “I heard him,” she hissed at Logan. “What I’m asking is what does that involve exactly? And why can’t I handle face painting or bobbing for apples?”

  The mayor appeared genuinely perplexed. “Claire Mae is handling face painting. Jim already signed up for apples.”

  “Signed up? I never—”

  “Actually,” Leigh interrupted. “ You were busy in the attic, so I took it upon myself to sign up for you when Martha came by earlier in the week. I thought the kissing booth would be cute, plus…” She leaned into Savannah and attempted a whisper, but in the quiet room she might as well have shouted. “I thought you could use a little action. Test out some potential dates without anyone the wiser.” Leigh looked pleased with herself, until Savannah turned slowly toward her sister like a monster ready to bite off its victim’s head. Leigh’s smile dropped away. “Or maybe not. But don’t be mad. It’s probably just little kids anyway.”

  “Is it only kids, Mayor?” Travis Axon asked from the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at the young sheriff like it was the most sensible question in the world. Travis’s dark, curly hair looked as out of control as ever as he waited for the mayor’s answer.

  Mayor Kitchings looked to Martha, who whispered in his ear, and then he addressed the crowd again. “Any paying customer.”

  Travis’s eyes switched to Savannah, a smile spreading across his face, and Logan burst out laughing, unable to hold it in another second.

  “This should be interesting,” Logan said. “Can I pay to watch, Mayor?”

  He consulted Martha again, just as Savannah spun around, her hands on her hips in anger.

  “We see no reason why not,” the mayor said. “Now, to continue on with the list.”

  “Wait, I didn’t agree to this,” Savannah said. “I…”

  Logan leaned forward, draping his arm over the back of her chair. “Now come on, Anna, surely you aren’t going to disappoint the townspeople.”

  Her eyes searched those around her, and Logan’s smile widened. He would pay very good money to watch this disaster.

  “No, I don’t want to disappoint anyone. I’ll do it.” Savannah sat back down and crossed her arms, her mouth set, but he could tell she was trying to find a way out without offending half the town. Only that was the thing about Maple. Once the town set its mind to something, you either went along with it or suffered exile. She had no choice.

  They listened to the mayor rattle off the rest of the list then move through town business. All the while an idea started through Logan’s mind. Suddenly, he thought Savannah at the kissing booth wasn’t such a bad idea.

  Not a bad idea at all.

  Chapter Ten

  Savannah peer
ed down at the outfit Leigh had set out for her, a note on top telling her to be open minded. Open minded her ass. This was just ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as that town meeting yesterday. Thankfully, they ran out of time before she had to answer questions about the B and B. Even now, she wasn’t 100 percent sure what she would say.

  One thing at a time. And presently, she had a kissing both to get to.

  With a long sigh, she went to her chest of drawers and pulled out a tank top and chambray shorts, then laid them beside the outfit Leigh had chosen. Her sister’s pick was navy and red tiny plaid shorts and a sleeveless white polo—the kind of outfit those golfer girls who drove around selling drinks to men three times their age wore. She wasn’t wearing it. No way, no how. She didn’t even want to do this.

  A knock had her tucking her towel tighter around her as she opened the door, expecting to find Leigh staring back at her, but instead it was Logan.

  “I thought you were Leigh.” She fidgeted with her towel. The last thing she needed was for the thing to drop to the ground and him to see her female parts before she’d offered them for his viewing pleasure. Which then made her wonder if she wanted to offer them for his viewing pleasure. No, not at all. She didn’t want Logan seeing her parts, and she certainly didn’t want to see his parts, and—

  Oh my God. Parts? What was she, eight years old? Clearly, she needed to get out more. She’d just decided to ask Logan what he needed, so he could leave her to ponder this, when she noticed him staring.

  Logan’s eyes drifted over her shoulders, likely still sprinkled with water droplets, and then slowly down her towel, causing goose bumps to burst across her skin. She loved the feel of his eyes on her, how it was as though he couldn’t help himself, like he found her too beautiful to look away. The thought made her far giddier than it should.

  Clearing his throat, he raised his gaze to her face, one eye slightly squinted. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Leigh said you have to be at the booth in fifteen minutes.”

  Savannah exhaled. “All right.” She’s just turned back to her outfit problem when Logan added, “Wear the tank. It’s you. And you should never be anyone other than you.”

  She smiled at him, the goose bumps returning for entirely different reasons. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” He tapped his cell against his palm. “All right, then. See you down there.”

  “Wait… You’re going?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.” He winked at her and then closed the door.

  Fantastic.

  Deciding it was best to just get it over with, she threw on her clothes and went to work on her hair and makeup.

  One day of kissing. How bad could it be?

  She took one final look at herself, grabbed her cell, and headed outside.

  The weather had kept its promise. There was a bright blue sky above with cotton ball clouds shielding the sun from time to time. The day reminded Savannah of her childhood and made her miss her parents so badly that she nearly went back to the bed-and-breakfast to wallow in memories. But she’d known most of these people her whole life. The town was like an extended family, and she didn’t want to let her family down.

  Mayor Kitchings had broadcasted the event on a few major radio stations in Atlanta, and his reach had proven wise. Main Street grew more and more crowded by the minute, with kids walking hand in hand with their parents, and strollers for those too young to walk.

  Savannah glanced down at her chosen outfit. She’d gone with the plaid shorts, but paired them with a basic white tank top, blending the two looks. Her strawberry blond hair hung in waves down her back, and she’d put on a full face of makeup, including an extra swipe of vanilla-flavored gloss for good measure. Let the kissing begin.

  “We have a little problem,” Leigh said, catching Savannah as she started for the booth. Like always, Leigh wore dark colors—in this case, a charcoal tank top and black shorts. A bright blue headband held back her hair.

  “What is it?” Savannah asked.

  “Um, that.” Leigh pointed to the booth, and Savannah stopped mid-step.

  “What the hell is that?”

  There was a line. A very long line. And of that line, very few were kids. Savannah had pictured herself kissing young boys on the cheek, them embarrassed and her patting their cute little heads, the whole thing very innocent and sweet. But there was nothing sweet about this line, unless you counted Frank, who in all likelihood just waited there to tell Savannah hello.

  No, this line was comprised of teen boys, college boys, men her age, older men—all who had no business waiting in a line to kiss a twenty-something woman. She reminded herself that this was for charity, like those date auctions where hot guys took the stage, and women bid on dates. Only, that would be better than this. A thousand, million times better than this.

  Could she kiss them all on the cheek? Surely she didn’t have to kiss them on the lips, right? What if one became squirrely and tried to use his tongue and—

  “I’m going to kill you for getting me into this.”

  Leigh cringed beside her. “Apparently the flyer has a photo of you. In a bikini.”

  “What? Where would they get that?” Savannah screamed, rushing up to the stop sign at the end of the drive, where a bright pink flyer had been taped up. Sure enough, on the back was a giant photo of her in a bikini and beside it were the words: $2 per kiss.

  “Jesus C.”

  “I know. Only two dollars. Shouldn’t it be more like five?”

  Savannah glared at her sister. “The town is whoring me out, and you’re worried over the amount?”

  “Right. I’m sorry. But just remember, it’s for a good cause.”

  “This is for a good cause?” Savannah motioned to her bikinied self.

  Leigh made a face and shrugged slowly before turning her attention to the line. “Well, you better get started. I just hope they weren’t expecting you to be in the bikini. Because, awkward.”

  Savannah closed her eyes. Mama, if you’re there, I’d appreciate a little fixing here. Or at least some heavy alcohol.

  The booth was a wooden table covered in a pink tablecloth, with a floral arrangement on top and a banner tied to the front. Savannah didn’t have the courage to look at the banner for fear she’d see a larger version of the flyer. Reminding herself that this was all to help the town, she took her seat and smiled at the first person—or rather boy—in line. He couldn’t be more than eight, a smattering of freckles across his face, and Savannah released a slow breath.

  “Hi, there.”

  “I have two dollars,” he said, passing her the two bills. Savannah smiled and kissed his cheek and he ran off to a group of friends nearby. She released another breath. Maybe she could do this after all.

  But then her smile dropped away as she saw the next person in line—a man who had to be fifty or older, with a very obvious gold wedding band on his left hand. “Um…”

  “Two dollars, right? Well, I have four. Does that mean I get two kisses?” He waggled his eyebrows and leaned in, a rush of smoky breath hitting her face and Oh my God! She started to close her eyes, prepared to suffer in the name of charity, but before Mr. Marlboro could kiss her, Logan cut in front of him.

  “Hey!” the man protested. “I waited an hour for this kiss.”

  Logan shrugged. “Sorry, man, I have a special pass for today. Like at Disney World, where you get to skip the line. So I’d like to take my turn now.” He turned back to face Savannah, a giant smile on his face and a giant wad of bills in his left hand.

  “What are you doing?” Savannah whispered.

  “What does it look like? Saving your pretty ass,” he whispered back.

  “Well, hurry up,” the man grumbled.

  “You can’t save me from this insanity,” Savannah said. “Not sure even God himself could save me from this line.”

  Logan’s gaze shifted to the crowd, then returned to her. “We’ll
see.” He leaned in closer, ready for their kiss.

  “You can’t do this,” she whispered, but she couldn’t keep her eyes from dropping to his lips. Did they feel the way she remembered? Did he still taste like mint and summer rain? Did she want to kiss him? No. Absolutely not.

  Yes.

  He counted out two dollars and placed them in the change box. “I can. Now kiss me.” He tilted her chin up, his gaze flicking to her lips before returning to her eyes. “Stop me now if you’re going to.” A moment passed, her chance to tell him no, to push him away, but with her eyes locked on his—the green shimmering bright in the sun, a hint of challenge behind them—all she could do was breathe in answer.

  As he closed the distance slowly, his breath hit her mouth, warm and inviting, and then his lips pressed softly to hers, sampling the feel of them. Goose bumps rose across her skin, and it took every bit of control in her not to moan in satisfaction, her insides screaming out finally! And then just as she’d decided to deepen the kiss, he pulled away, his eyes closed for a moment, then opening, full of confusion.

  “Anna?”

  She couldn’t respond as her own eyes found the table. Any response at all would have her confessing everything, how much she missed him, all the sleepless nights wondering where he was, the constant ache in her chest that lifted every time she saw him now.

  “Anna, look at me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Look at me.”

  Her gaze lifted, and she knew she was showing too much emotion, but she couldn’t help it. In that single kiss she’d felt more relief than she thought possible. Like finally, finally, she could breathe.

  “Again,” Logan said.

  “What? No, the line—”

  Logan counted out two more dollars and placed them in the box.

  “Hey, you had your turn,” the man behind him argued, with several others chiming in with the same. But Savannah could barely hear them, could barely hear anything beyond the pounding of her pulse in her ears.