With Logan’s tongue in my mouth and his hands creeping up the inside of my blouse, it was easy to ignore the ringing of my phone the first time. Even the second time.
The third, fourth, fifth, sixth times were much harder to ignore.
By the seventh, Logan leaned up onto his elbows, away from me. The heat in his eyes was dimming. I understood. That ringing was ruining the mood if nothing else. But there was also the possibility that it could be an emergency.
“Better check,” Logan said.
I sighed. “Yeah.” Internally, I began a silent mantra, a prayer: Please don’t let this be another emergency. Over and over again, I prayed. Please, please, please.
Logan sat back, off of me, and I rolled out from under him. My phone was in my purse on the kitchen island. Digging through it, I found my p
