All of Me by Leeanna Morgan (popular e readers txt) đ
- Author: Leeanna Morgan
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The kitchen door opened and Tess headed straight across to the fridge. âThe Groovy Grans are down the street. Keep those pancakes coming, Logan. Iâll be back soon.â She took two jugs of juice into the cafĂ© and he looked around the kitchen.
If it had been a calm oasis when he arrived, it wasnât now. And with the amount of noise coming from the street, it wasnât about to get any better.
Tess took another sip of orange juice and sighed. The morning rush was over. She could have a break, enjoy some peace and quiet in the café before the lunch crowd descended.
âDo you want to share a pancake? You look as though you need it.â Logan sent a sunny smile her way and she scowled.
âNo, thanks.â
He ate another big fork of pancake and shrugged his shoulders. âYou donât know what youâre missing.â
She did know what she was missing and she still didnât care. Her head felt like it was pounding off her shoulders. Sheâd swallowed a couple of Tylenol halfway through the Groovy Gransâ breakfast, but it hadnât made much difference.
âMoonshine can do that to you if youâre not careful.â Logan drizzled more maple syrup on his last pancake.
Tess watched Logan put the cap back on the bottle and pick up his knife and fork. After the Groovy Grans had left on their motorcycles, Logan had gone home, had a shower and returned to eat his promised pancakes.
âHow do you know I was drinking Moonshine?â
Annie left a grilled cheese sandwich in front of Tess. âThat would have been me. We were, you know, passing the time of day. I happened to mention our late night.â
Tess looked at the sandwich. She didnât know if she could eat it.
Annie put the weekend newspaper on the table and patted her shoulder. âIâll look after the cafĂ©. Take as long as you need.â
âThanks, Annie.â Tess watched her friend walk to the front counter.
âYou should go for a run. Sweat the alcohol out of your body.â
Tess flicked open the paper and ignored Logan.
âSo weâre back to bickering buddies again? I wondered how long our truce would last.â
âWe didnât have a truce and we arenât buddies. Although I do appreciate your help this morning.â
âNice to know thereâs a heart in there somewhere.â
Logan didnât seem particularly devastated by Tessâ lack of enthusiasm where he was concerned. And he shouldnât have been. They werenât friends, but Tess supposed he could be called an acquaintance. Especially after her one disastrous attempt to find out why he was living in Bozeman. He ate at her cafĂ© at least three times a week and had a soft spot for pancakes. The only thing they had in common was that Logan was a reporter and she hated reporters. Most days they didnât have a lot to say to each other.
âPancakes tasted good.â
Tess looked up. âThanks.â
âWhat I donât understand is how you can be so nice one minute, then in the next breath turn into an ice maiden. Someone must have burned you real bad.â
Tess squinted at Logan. âI believe the correct phrasing is âreally badâ.â
âSo who was he? Some heart-throb who spurned you at the altar? Or maybe you didnât get that far. Maybe he dumped you for your best friend and youâve never forgiven him.â
Tess turned over another page in the newspaper. Logan didnât know how close heâd gotten to the truth. Except it hadnât been as simple as her boyfriend running off with her best friend. Her best friend had died and Andrew Gibson had walked away a free man.
Logan wiped his mouth on a napkin and took his dirty dishes across to Annie. Before he left the cafĂ©, he came and stood beside Tessâ table.
He leaned down, close enough that she could smell his aftershave and the clean scent that was all man. âSomeday youâre going to tell me why you donât like me. And when you do, Iâm going to show you how wrong you are.â
Tess looked him straight in the eyes. âThat someday will never come.â
Logan smiled. âIt almost happened once.â His eyes dropped to her mouth and Tess blushed.
âWell, if itâs not Mr. Hot and Steamy.â Sally, Tessâ friend, stood beside Logan, smiling at him as if sheâd seen something funny. âDonât worry about, Tess. She doesnât appreciate a good man when she sees one.â
âYou can say that again,â he muttered. âIâve got to go. Enjoy your weekend.â He smiled at Sally and nodded at Tess.
Tess went back to reading the paper.
âYou can be such a witch sometimes.â Sally dropped into the seat opposite her. âLoganâs a good guy. You donât like reporters, and I guess youâve got your reasons. But thatâs no excuse to treat him like the enemy.â
Tess folded the newspaper in half. âCan we talk about something else?â
âAs soon as Iâve bought my lunch. Iâll be back in a minute.â
Sally walked over to Annie and started looking through the glass cabinets beside the cash register.
Tess imagined that some women might find Logan attractive. He was easily six-foot-five. He had dark brown eyes that turned to amber when he was thinking aboutâŠshe dragged her brain away from where that thought was going and concentrated on his body. That didnât do her much good either.
Rock hard muscles that could have been sculptured out of granite summed him up perfectly. He would have ticked more than one âyesâ box in a desperate womanâs fantasy. But she wasnât desperate. She didnât even care if his smile could melt an iceberg, or an ice maiden. He was a reporter and that meant off-limits. No way. Ever.
âWhat have you been arguing about with Logan this time?â Sally returned to the table with a chicken pie and a raspberry muffin.
âWe werenât arguing. He helped cook pancakes this morning.â
âWhy would he do that?â
Tess sighed. âItâs a long story. What have you been doing?â
âRecovering from last night.â Sally bit into her pie and smiled. âThese are the best chicken pies in Montana. You should start a pie restaurant.â
âItâs hard enough finding the time to run this cafĂ©. I couldnât imagine having a restaurant as well.â
âItâs because youâre a control freak. You canât let someone else take over.â
Tess smiled. âYou could be right.â
âI know Iâm right. So how come Logan was here?â
âI was desperate. Iâd run out of buttermilk.â
Sally blew on the pie. âThe old buttermilk excuse. It will get a man every time.â
Tess bit into her cheese sandwich. âIt was half-past five in the morning. My options were limited.â
âBut what an option,â Sally said with a grin.
Tess looked at her watch. âIâve got to get moving. Annie needs a break and the lunch customers will be here soon. Mollyâs coming by for a coffee after we close. Do you want to join us?â
âCount me in. And try not to be so hard on Logan. Heâs a nice guy.â
âMaybe,â Tess said grudgingly as she stood up. But he was a reporter and she had a past no one knew about. And she planned on keeping it that way.
By four oâclock that afternoon, Tess was glad sheâd invited her friends over for coffee. She laughed at something Molly said and felt the dayâs dramas melting away.
The Irish photographer laughed back. âItâs true. He said heâd had a grand time on our first date. When he told me he was looking for a wife, I didnât know what to say.â
âI hope you said no.â Sally reached for her coffee and stopped when Molly didnât reply. âYou did say no, didnât you?â
Mollyâs cheeks turned red. âI married Rowan six months later.â
Annieâs mouth dropped open.
Molly looked slowly around the table. âHe was charming and handsome. He whispered the poetry of Yeats and Moore in my ear.â She shrugged her shoulders. âIt warmed my heart to be with him.â
âWhat happened?â Tess asked. âHe didnât come to Montana with you.â
âHe ran off with a barmaid from County Kerry a few months after we were married. I was naive and foolish.â
âAt least you were able
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