Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Beth K. Vogt Page B

Ask the right question. And hope she said yes.

FIVE

    No one is brave alone . . . the bravest among us do not stand alone.
    â€”ANNIE F. DOWNS (1980– ), AUTHOR AND SPEAKER
    L ogan gripped the opposite ends of the metal lat pull-down bar, closed his eyes, and exhaled. The machine was loaded with extra pounds. Maybe a ramped-up workout would overcome last night’s memories still lurking in his brain.
    And yet it was impossible to focus on his reps when his teammates crowded into the too-small hotel workout room. Brady was the only one of them even attempting to exercise. He’d commandeered a treadmill over in the corner where the TV was tuned to the local news. Max, his leg still encased in a long black brace from his ankle past his knee, leaned against the wall nearest the door, while Julie stood guard nearby.
    â€œSo, how’s it feel to be a hero, boss?” Julie’s question broke his concentration—again.
    After Brady told them during breakfast about Logan going into the water to help rescue someone, Jules couldn’t seem to stop talking about the teen’s near-drowning. This was one year Logan wished he’d left the team back in Oklahoma when he came to Florida.
    He wished he hadn’t come back to Destin at all.
    â€œEnough already.” He pulled the bar behind his back, slow and smooth. Paused. Raised it back to the starting position. “I’m not a hero.”
    Brady, who had embellished the story in the retelling, hit pause on the treadmill and pointed to the television mounted on the wall, the sound turned off. “You watching this? That guy’s video is on the news again . And from the way the witnesses described it, you were the one who saved that kid.”
    â€œVanessa—” He would not say “my ex-wife.” Just because they all knew who she was didn’t mean he had to say it. “—went into the water first. I just hauled him back to shore.”
    Brady wiped at the sheen of sweat on his forehead with one end of the towel resting on his shoulders. “From the video on the news last night, it looked like you hauled her back in, too.”
    Logan performed a few more reps before replying. “Knock it off. Vanessa kept the kid calm and swam in herself.” Logan closed his eyes. Mere inches from his wife, who he hadn’t been able to forget about for eight years, and he hadn’t realized the woman swimming next to him, one hand clasping the teen’s to help calm him down, was Vanessa.
    Julie helped Max get settled in a chair, leaning his crutches against the wall. “You saw the updated newscast, right?”
    Logan repeated another round of reps. “I’ve been avoiding watching it—no thanks to the three of you.”
    â€œWell, you know Vanessa is your ex-wife. And we all know she’s your ex-wife. But while the reporter didn’t know it last night—he does now.”
    Logan released the lat bar, the weights clunking against one another. “Meaning?”
    â€œYou know reporters—they have to go looking into everyone’s background.” Julie shrugged, her smile lopsided. “And it didn’t take him long to figure out you and Vanessa were married—‘former high school sweethearts,’ he said.”
    â€œWonderful.” Logan stood, staring at the TV. “Why’d that guy have to be running around with his video camera?”
    â€œEveryone wants their five minutes of fame—” Now it was Max’s turn to chime in. “—even if it means videotaping someone else’s five minutes.”
    â€œIt’s sad but true. Think about all the people who we’ve encountered trying to chase after tornadoes who have no right being out there in the middle of a storm.” Julie, her straight dark blond hair pulled into a high ponytail, nudged Max’s shoulder. “You ready to head to the pool yet? It’ll do your leg