Texas On My Mind

Trisha.

Even with the blind spots and aura speckles, Logan could make out her face. Though he had to admit her face wasn’t the first thing that’d caught his attention. It was her huge breasts and the tiny patch of shiny red fabric that he supposed was meant to be panties. An eye patch would have more fabric than that little thing.

Trisha shrieked again, and she scurried to the sofa to grab a dress that she held up in front of her like a shield. A piss-poor shield because it didn’t cover her left boob or that panty swatch.

The photographer snapped a few pictures of her.

Logan shot him a look to let him know that he was going to delete each one he’d just taken. A hard look wasn’t that difficult to manage since Trisha’s shrieks had caused the migraine to close in on him.

“Logan, what are you doing here?” Trisha asked.

“That was the question I planned to ask you.”

“I was waiting for Riley,” she said as if that explained everything.

And maybe it did.

Logan hadn’t heard any rumors about Riley and Trisha getting back together, but maybe his little brother had found a new way to relieve pain.

Logan closed the door, leaving the reporter and the ball-scratcher on the porch. “Riley’s at PT in San Antonio,” he told Trisha.

“I know.” She huffed, blew at a strand of her hair that’d fallen onto her cheek. “I called one of the ranch hands, and he said Riley should be back by now. I, uh, wanted to surprise him. Please, Logan,” she repeated. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”

He wouldn’t, but the photographer would. Probably the reporter, too. By noon it would be all over town, possibly posted on the internet, and the gossips would add that Logan had stepped behind closed doors with her. That meant Logan needed to call his girlfriend, Helene Langford, and let her know what had happened. Since Helene and he had been together for years, she would believe he hadn’t cheated on her with Trisha, but he didn’t want Helene blindsided by the bullshit.

Trisha started to wiggle into the dress. It was a testament to how much pain he was in that he hoped she would hurry.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Trisha asked. “You were supposed to be on a two-week business trip and shouldn’t be back for three more days.”

“I wrapped up things early—” He would have continued his own questions if Trisha hadn’t interrupted.

“But you rarely stay here anymore. I didn’t figure you’d be coming home.”

So the gossips had picked up on that, too. And it wasn’t just gossip. Logan had indeed converted the third floor of his office building to a loft apartment, and with the hours he worked, it was easier just to sleep there. Besides, it wasn’t as if he had family here now that Anna had moved off to Florida.

But Logan had no intentions of getting into that with Trisha.

“Where’s your car?” he asked, hoping he didn’t have to drive her anywhere.

She hitched her thumb toward the back. “I parked behind the house. I was going for an element of surprise.”

“Element accomplished.”

Logan went to the door to tell the reporter and photographer to take a hike, but it wasn’t only them on the other side. It was Riley, too. And he practically punched Logan in the gut because he was reaching for the doorknob.

“Go,” Logan growled to the news crew. He glared at the photographer. “And if those photos or anything else about this situation show up anywhere, you’ll deal with me.”

Logan didn’t wait for their reaction. The blind spots were getting even spottier. From the looks of it, Riley wasn’t faring much better in the pain department.

Riley stepped in right before Logan shut the door, and his brother volleyed glances between Trisha and him. It didn’t help that the front of Trisha’s dress was still hiked up, and he could see that sad excuse for panties.

“Trisha wanted to surprise you,” Logan summarized. Some people probably would have just let this all play out, but he wanted to hurry things along. “I’ll take a nap while you two have fun.”

“Thank you,” Trisha said at the exact moment Riley said, “I can’t. I need to talk to you, Logan,” Riley added.

Shit on a stick. That didn’t seem like an end to a conversation but rather the beginning of one Logan didn’t want to have.

Riley turned to Trisha. “I haven’t seen Logan in months. We need to get some family things settled.”

Translation: Riley didn’t want what Trisha was offering behind those red panties.

“Plus, I’m in pain. It was a rough session of PT today.” Riley rotated his shoulder and winced. Probably not fake, either, like that family-things comment.

Riley never wanted to discuss family things.

“I’ll call you,” Riley told Trisha when she didn’t budge.

Maybe the last bit of her dignity kicked in because the woman finally scurried to gather the rest of her things. Of course, she had on woodpecker heels, too, and they hammered against the hardwood floor. Trisha turned, heading toward the back of the house, but then she stopped.

“I just thought...” she said to Riley. “Well, I just thought I could cheer you up. I mean, I thought you might be feeling a little blue what with Claire marrying Daniel and all.”

Translation: pity sex.

And judging from the way Riley’s expression soured, he might just be in need of pity something. That wasn’t the expression of a man who’d just learned a friend was getting married. No. But then, Riley had always had a thing for Claire.

“Call me,” Trisha reminded Riley. She dropped a kiss on his cheek. Paused. As if waiting for Riley to do something more than make it a cheek kiss. When he didn’t, Trisha finally left.

“Sorry about that,” Riley mumbled. He was wearing his uniform, and with the exception of that weary, pained expression, he looked every bit the part of a military superstar. Which from all accounts, he was.

Logan considered repeating that part about needing a nap, but instead he found himself sinking down on the chair across from Riley. “Want to talk about it?”

Riley dropped the back of his head against the sofa and let out a long breath. “Which part—Trisha or the PT?”

“Both. Or neither,” Logan amended. “Or you can talk—briefly—about Claire and Daniel.”

Riley lifted his head and made eye contact with him, and for a moment Logan thought Riley would question that briefly part. To the best of his knowledge, Riley didn’t know about the migraines, and Logan wanted to keep it that way. Besides, his little brother no doubt had him beat a thousandfold in the pain department.

“Claire hasn’t decided if she’s marrying Daniel, but he did propose again, and he gave her a week to decide. There’s only one day left on his deadline. Trisha wants a repeat of what we did in high school. The PT’s going nowhere.”

Logan dismissed the first two topics, went with the last one. “How much time do you have left on your medical leave?”

“A month, maybe less.” He aimed his eyes at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact. “If I can’t pass a physical, I might be given a medical discharge.”

Riley said it in the same tone as someone would admit they were dying from cancer or some other horrible disease. But he wasn’t dying. He just wouldn’t be able to lead the life he wanted more than being near family.

“Are you still having flashbacks?” Logan asked.

That got his eyes away from the ceiling, and Logan earned a glare for his question. “Who said I was having them in the first place? Hell. Claire told you?”