Her Soldier Protector. Soraya Lane
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with a country boy.
“Your family all ranch out there?”
He grinned. “We call it farming here, but yeah, it’s my family property.”
Candace paused, slowly peeling a prawn. “So your dad runs the place or a brother?”
Logan took a deep breath, she could see the rise and fall of his chest, before he waved to a waiter and gestured for another beer. He glanced at her, but Candace shook her head—hers was still half-full.
He cleared his throat. “My parents both died a few years ago, and my sister lives on a farm with her husband,” Logan explained. “The property has been in our family for generations, so I’d rather die than sell the place, but I’ve had to have a manager employed while I’ve been serving so the place can continue to run smoothly.”
Candace sighed. “I shouldn’t have been so nosey, Logan. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. Sometimes it’s just hard to say out loud, because admitting it makes it real, as stupid as that sounds.”
She knew exactly how that felt. “My mom died a couple of years ago, and if I’m honest, that’s why I’ve put up with my management team for longer than I should have. She was the one who dealt with all that stuff so I could just focus on singing, and I’m still pretty lost without her. She was the business brains and I was the creative one, and it had always been just the two of us. We made a good team.”
Logan took the beer that arrived at their table, his eyes leaving hers to look out at the water. She did the same, because it seemed wrong to keep watching him when he was obviously troubled about what they were talking about. He was silent.
“I didn’t mean to just unleash all that on you,” she apologized. “I don’t usually spill my thoughts so easily, but...”
“It’s nice to tell someone who actually gets it, right?” he finished, gaze meeting hers again.
“Yeah,” she murmured, “something like that.”
“Losing a parent is tough, and it doesn’t get easier, so don’t believe anyone if they try to tell you otherwise,” he told her. “But you do learn to live with it.”
Their table was cleared then and within minutes two large white plates were placed in front of them.
“So these are the bugs, huh?”
Logan nodded, but he was more reserved now than he’d been before—his enthusiasm dulled.
“You just scoop the white meat out of the shell,” he told her. “It’s incredible.”
Candace spread her napkin over her lap, smoothing out the wrinkles, before picking up her fork and following Logan’s lead. He was right—again—the food was great.
“Thanks for a lovely evening,” she told him when she’d finished her mouthful. “It was completely unexpected and I appreciate the gesture.”
He gave her a weird look. “Sounds like you’re ready to leave.”
“No, I’m just grateful that I’ve actually enjoyed a night in someone else’s company. You’ve given me some perspective at a time when I needed it.”
Logan went back to getting every last piece of meat from the shellfish, and she forced herself to stop watching him and just eat, too. There was something so refreshingly real about him.
“Another beer?”
She looked at her bottle and was about to say no, before she changed her mind. “You know what? Yeah. I’d love another. Why not?”
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