Mercifully, that’s exactly what we do. Karen, Mary-Gene, and I spend the afternoon zooming around side-by-side, talking amongst ourselves. Rupert cycles ahead of us, with Abigail on a child’s bike which is attached to the back of his, and Logan and Taylor lead the pack, racing each other, fooling around much to the annoyance of our tour guide, and behaving for all intents and purposes how I expect brothers to be with one another.
Why can’t they always be like that, I wonder. Why does every interaction have to be marred by Taylor’s bad attitude? His smiles and laughter certainly seem evidential of his happiness right now. Why can’t he stay in that mindset? What makes him always revert back to his old begrudging ways?
I’m tempted to quiz Karen about it. Undoubtedly she’s the one who knows him the best, and maybe she could offer an insight that would explain his behaviour and therefor result in me liking him a little bit more. But as we wheel our way around Paris, I don’t say a word on the subject. He and Logan are happy right now, I should just let that be, I think. I don’t want to pry or be a nuisance, and besides, us three ladies have much more interesting things to talk about than Taylor — shopping being at the forefront.
Two fast-moving hours later, the tour concludes where it started. I’ve been so engaged with our conversations that I couldn’t say with certainty which sights we’ve seen and which we haven’t. Despite this, I’ve had a wonderful time with Logan’s mother and sister-in-law. I’m delighted to know that whenever Logan and I use those plane tickets to Charleston, we’ll be received there warmly.
We travel back on the metro as a group and at the bottom of Logan’s apartment building, the seven of us go our separate ways, Logan and I upstairs, and his family across the road to the hotel. Checking the time on my phone I realise that we’ve only got forty-five minutes to primp and preen for our big evening out. That’s a tight turnaround! I grab Logan’s hand and pull him hastily towards the elevator, and once inside I study my reflection on the mirrored wall, determining how much work I’ve got to do to look presentable. Not a lot, I note, just a freshen up all over, I think.
Once upstairs, I hurry through to the bathroom to take a quick body shower. When I’m out Logan takes my place and as I stand in a bathrobe in front of the vanity mirror reapplying my makeup, making everything darker and more prominent, I watch him in the reflection.
His entire body is a work of art. Taut, with defined muscles, but not overly bulky. The water cascades over his silken skin and I watch it fall down, down. He doesn’t have to be hard to turn me on. The sight of his penis hanging loosely causes heat to rise in me, and distracts me so badly that I end up with very uneven eyeliner.
Focus, Gem, I scold myself.
Giving myself a less erotic distraction, I start whistling one of my favourite tunes as I finish my blush, apply my favourite red lip stain which stands out against my blue eyes, and fix my long, dark hair into a half up, half down arrangement. Logan steps out of the shower, whistling too, and walks to the dressing room next door, keeping beat with me. We’re so dorky right now, I can’t stop myself from thinking. I love it. Feeling inspired, I then break out into full singing voice, really going for it, high notes and all, and I can hear Logan laughing at my enthusiasm.
Several loudly sung songs later, I leave my post in front of the mirror and unexpectedly bump into him just outside of the door. Not anticipating the collision I rebound off of his solid chest and stumble backwards, but his hands quickly grip my upper arms to stop me from falling. We look at each other, slightly dazed.
I forget the surprise encounter at lightning speed, however, because the arm length distance between us gives me space enough to take in his impressive appearance. My mouth is slack as I ogle him for the second time in the last twenty minutes. He’s fully dressed, back into that light-grey suit which he wore last weekend. My reaction is exactly the same as it was then — I go weak at the knees and swoon on the spot. He is beyond gorgeous.
The only difference to his attire is that now he’s thoughtfully wearing a light-green tie which matches the colour of my dress from the weekend, and one of my choices for tonight. Oh, Logan! Excitement courses through me, my mind immediately made up — that’s the dress I’m wearing.
Watching me watching him, Logan starts laughing. Jeez, he’s just such a sexy man! Quietly he asks me, “Is this suit some sort of aphrodisiac for you?”
“Uh-huh,” I nod vehemently, my heart beating double what it was only a moment ago. I step eagerly closer to him, and wrap my arms around his waist, my hands settling on his backside, which I squeeze. It’s delicious, even fully clothed. I reach up and kiss him ardently. The first time I saw him in this suit I wanted desperately to undress him immediately, but I held back. No hold backs tonight, I think slyly, giving his ass another tight squeeze.
“Evening, Gemima,” Karen’s voice says loudly, making me jump in shock.
Fuck! I’m abruptly brought back down to earth. When did they arrive, my mind screams. I immediately release my hold of Logan’s backside and retreat my hands, resting my head defeatedly against Logan’s chest as he laughs heartily.
“We have company,” he tells me, too late.
“You think?” I say sarcastically, making him laugh even more.
Unbeknownst to me, Logan’s broad structure blocked from my view the sight of his entire family. I peer over his shoulder and see them all already dressed, sitting leisurely in the living room, with a perfect line of sight of my grabby hands. They must’ve arrived while I was singing my heart out. Dammit!
“Evening,” I call back.
Amusement is evident on every face except for Taylor’s. That man is such a mood-kill, I think instantly, beginning to get used it.
I half-giggle, half-grimace before hurrying into the dressing room, rolling my eyes at myself. Nice one, Gem! Logan follows me, closing the door and leaning against it, watching me. The grin that’s on his face turns from admiring to amorous when I let my bathrobe fall open. He looks at me with that mixture of love and desire that I revel in receiving.
“Weren’t you on the way to the bathroom?” I ask him, though I’m rather pleased by his detour.
“Yes,” he says, remaining motionless. “But this is a much better distraction.”
“From what?” I say, now naked and riffling through one of my bags for suitable underwear for under my dress.
“My nerves,” he reveals, though he looks far from nervous right now. His eyes are alight as he asks me, “Have I told you how beautiful your body is?”
“Yes,” I smile at him. “Once or twice.” That’s the understatement of the century. His free-flowing compliments thrill me every time. “Perhaps it’ll distract you even more if I tell you that Amber suggested that I go panty-less tonight, and instead shove my unmentionables into your jacket pocket.”
Chuckling, Logan says, “Your best friend has some very good ideas, doesn’t she?”
“Do you think?”
“The mirrors, and now this.”
“This is not a good idea, Logan,” I assure him, pulling my underwear very much on. “All I can see in my mind is you walking across a stage tonight to give your speech, and in front of however-many-people you put your hand into your jacket pocket to pull out your notes and instead my underwear falls out!”
Logan’s body is silently shaking as he laughs at my premonition.
“Buddy will shout: those are Gemima’s…and both you and I will die of embarrassment. Is that what you really want?” I ask, walking over to him and leaning against his body.