Wedding Cake Wishes by Dana Corbit Page B

together, his rough thumb brushing on the back of her hand.
    Caroline jerked back so quickly that she bumped the shelf with her sore elbow, but she managed to stay on her feet this time. She chewed her lip as she bent to collect the clipboard and pen from the floor.
    â€œYou sure you’re okay?”
    â€œJust trying to get my equilibrium back.” Because it wouldn’t be in her best interest, she didn’t mention that merely being in his presence threw her off balance.
    He glanced at the floor-to-ceiling shelves on one side of the room and the cleaning-supply closet on the opposite side. “I used to hide in here when I was in elementary school, but I don’t remember it being so cramped.”
    A nod was the best she could manage with him so close that she could breathe in his fresh-scented bath soap. A four-foot buffer separated them, but it wasn’t enough. She’d imagined that the room was shrinking before, but it was nothing compared to the cocoon ofintimacy she felt now, the kind that made the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
    She cleared her throat, resisting the urge to rub her neck beneath the bun. “You were small for your age back then, and you probably weren’t hiding in a group, either.”
    â€œThings have changed, I guess.”
    She swallowed. He was right, but she wouldn’t be sharing that with him. Her plan to will away her attraction for Logan was working about as well as a car starting without an engine.
    â€œWell, aren’t you glad you chose this as the way to spend your holiday?” He glanced at the inventory sheet in her hands. “Nearly being maimed and all?”
    â€œI needed to get out of Mom’s house for a while.”
    â€œThat’s got to be cramped. Your mom wasn’t planning for more than one houseguest when she bought her two-bedroom home.”
    â€œAnd Jenna has dibs on the guest room until the wedding—whenever that is—so I’m stuck with the sofa.”
    â€œDid your mom complain about you working the holiday?”
    â€œNot really. I would have worked it at…er…my former position, too. Holidays and Sundays are the best for working without interruptions.”
    â€œI couldn’t believe it when you asked Mom about working Sundays here.” He stopped and shook his head. “That was about the clearest ‘no’ we’ve heard from her since the stroke. She’s always been adamant about not working on the Lord’s day.”
    â€œI didn’t mind working Sundays. I wrote most of my reports on Sundays.”
    Logan tilted his head and studied her. “But didn’tyou go stir-crazy holed up in that office while all the other people were with their families? Didn’t you get lonely?”
    Like she had been several times lately, Caroline was convinced Logan could see right through her. That he somehow knew that she worked at least part of the time because she had nothing better to do. She didn’t want or need his pity. She straightened, feeling more insulted for that than any injury to her backside.
    â€œSometimes you have to make sacrifices if you plan to succeed in the business world.”
    He answered with a nod. She waited for him to point out how little good all of her sacrificing had done when it came time for layoffs, but he didn’t say more.
    She cleared her throat. “Uh, you never said what you needed from me when you came in here.”
    The side of his mouth lifted. “Just wanted to wish you a happy Memorial Day.”
    â€œAre you kidding? You nearly broke my neck, knocking me off the ladder for—”
    â€œMe? Kidding?” He flashed his hundred-watt smile.
    Instead of asking again what he needed, she lifted an eyebrow and waited.
    â€œOh, right. I wanted to see how you were doing with the inventory list.”
    â€œFine. Sure there’s nothing else?”
    Logan shrugged, an embarrassed smile