Fool For You (Made for Love Book 4) by R.C. Martin Page B

asshole, but not all guys are Justin. You’ll kiss a few assholes before you find one you’re willing to put up with.” I smile up at him and he smiles back before pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “And I don’t count,” he adds with a wink. That makes me giggle and he wraps me in a hug. “You okay?”
    “Yeah,” I sigh, nodding against his chest. “I’m good.”
    My stomach growls and he chuckles, pulling away from me before reaching for my hand. “Come on. Your salad’s getting soggy.”
    I follow his tug, both of us exiting the closet, and I hope that my eyes don’t speak of our emotional conversation. I know if Andy catches on to the fact that I even thought about crying, he’ll be eyeing me with concern for the rest of the week. I certainly don’t need him worrying about me and Geoffrey, so I’m relieved when I don’t see him anywhere.
    With the gallery as quiet as it is, I don’t even think twice before popping open the lid to my salad from where I sit behind the reception desk. Geoffrey takes his seat beside me and I pepper him with questions about their earlier appointment while I eat. When I’m finished, we both get back to work; but try as I might, I can’t get Judah out of my head. I do my best not to overthink it. He has a face that’s hard to forget. I decide that remembering him for one afternoon is only natural. Tomorrow, he’ll be hardly more than a memory.

 
    As soon as I sit down at my desk Wednesday morning, I open up my email in hopes that I’ll find some correspondence from Mr. Dixon. I’m disappointed when I discover that my inbox is flooded with a dozen messages, not one of them from him . Logan sent him a variety of art selections for him to choose from for the wall décor in his office on Monday afternoon. His silence has prevented me from having an excuse to make a return visit to the MTA gallery.
    Dixon. Such a fucking pain in my ass .
    I’ve thought of Teddy often for the last day and a half. Her brown eyes. Her pretty freckles. Her pink mouth—her bottom lip just a little fuller than the top. Her long, wavy, red hair. Her delicate frame, which begs to be broken in the most delicious, forbidden, and explicit ways.
    “Hey, good morning,” says Logan, pulling me from my thoughts.
    I look up and find her hovering in the doorway, as if waiting for permission to come in.
    “Logan, you have a habit of inviting yourself into my office, so I’m confused as to why you’re standing out there.”
    “Actually, I’m—” She stops, resting her hand on her stomach before she shakes her head at me. “Never mind. I don’t really have anything of importance to share with you, I was just curious about whether or not you ever took care of that issue.”
    “What issue?”
    “You were going to apologize to the woman from the gallery, remember?”
    I lean back in my chair as I furrow my brow at her. “I recall you insisting that I should. I don’t, however, remember agreeing to it.”
    “Well, I really think you should reconsider. I know a great florist and—” She seals her lips shut, pressing both hands against her stomach this time.
    “Logan, you look pale. Are you all right?”
    “Um…I just don’t feel well, which is so odd because I—” She gasps, her eyes wide as she stares at me in complete surprise. “Oh, my god! Oh, my god!”
    “What?” I ask, standing to my feet, startled by her behavior.
    “ Oh, my god! ”
    “Logan—what is going on? Are you all right?”
    When she starts laughing, I question her mental well being. I’m so far from understanding what is happening, I don’t know how to respond. Without another word, she turns to leave. She only takes two steps before she’s back in my doorway, the smile on her face bringing the tiniest bit of color back to her skin.
    “I think I’m pregnant! I have to—oh, my god—I have to go.” She turns away from me again, laughs, and then reenters to my doorway. “I’ll be back. I have to see Roman.