Logan’s Contract: Along Came Jones Book Four Read online

  Brightly, she turned to Maggie, who was driving and gave her the address, which she spoke into her navigating system. “Don’t you have fancy toys!” Ronnie said. She wanted one!

  “Sebastian spoils me,” Maggie said. “But this is a rental. I picked it up the other day at the airport when I flew in. I don’t like to rely on other people to drive me where I want to go.”

  “Oh, I don’t mind that at all,” Ronnie confided. “I feel freer when I know I don’t have to drive. I can do anything I want, shop or have a few drinks, and not have to worry about getting the packages in my trunk or getting home. It’s suddenly someone else’s issue.” She liked having people. People to do for her and take the load of life off her shoulders. It was one of the many perks of money. She loved money.

  Maggie laughed, “I could see the advantage in that, I guess. We don’t really have Uber in my small town, though. Occasionally one or two pop up, but they don’t get enough customers to stay in business.”

  Small town life! She lived in a small town for a while, Blizzard, South Dakota which was about a hundred miles north of where she grew up in a much larger town. “I never liked small town living,” she confided to Maggie. “I moved to one with my first husband and honestly, the fact everyone knew everyone and there were so few amenities, weirded me out.”

  “I rather enjoy it. But sometimes it’s fun to come to the big city and shop. You nervous about the wedding and the dress?” Maggie asked her.

  “A little. It feels so rushed. I want to enjoy the process.”

  Actually she was just excited. There was nothing to be nervous about. Logan was hiring her a wedding planner and hopefully a mover, a mover who would pack. She didn’t have time to pack. If both those things happened, then she could relax a little. There were very few issues that throwing some money at it couldn’t solve, she’d found. As to the dress, well, these people were here to serve her. This high end shop was her kind of place, where she felt in her element. They knew how to treat people, she thought as they approached the door and it was instantly held open for them and a tray of fluted glasses full of what she knew was very good bubbly was held out to them.

  “Welcome to Maurice’s,” a very well-dressed woman said to them. “I’m Deborah, and I’ll be helping you pick out your wonderful bridal gown today. You must be Veronica, and this is?”

  “My future sister-in-law, Maggie,” Ronnie said, relaxing in the moment.

  “Come in and we will have a little chat and then try on some dresses,” Deborah led them down a short aisle full of beautiful white gowns.

  “Who did you wear for your wedding?” she asked Maggie.

  “I wore my mother’s dress that my grandmother made for her,” Maggie said. “It just needed a little bit of alteration.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Ronnie tried to sound sincere. Hand-me-down dress for a wedding? The biggest day in a woman’s life? No thank you! Nothing off the rack either. She wanted, and deserved, a designer gown and hopefully she would know just the one when she saw it. She sipped her drink. Perfect. But then good champagne was the perfect drink, and she needed to find a dress that she felt perfect in for her perfect day.

  “When is your wedding, and what are your colors and your theme for your wedding?” Deborah asked as she settled them into very comfy chairs in front of several full-length mirrors and a small stage Ronnie wanted to be standing on in her dress, already. What did it matter colors and themes when the dress, of course, would be white. Well, maybe a few subtle accents of the color she chose.

  “Well, hon, the wedding is late July and it’s March already, so we don’t have much time,” Ronnie leaned forward to confide, “my fiancé just can’t wait. He set the date. I would have preferred a Christmas wedding, at the earliest, or preferably one next summer, but he insisted.”

  “He must be very anxious to make you his,” Deborah cooed.

  Was he? She wasn’t sure why he wanted such a rushed wedding, but he’d set the date and since he was paying for most all of it, well, she could go along. She was easy to get along with! Ask anyone!

  “Tell me a little bit about what kind of dress you are looking for,” Deborah asked.

  In response, Ronnie held out her hand to show off her engagement ring. One large diamond, offset with sapphires and emeralds sprinkled on the sides. “I want bigger and more,” she said. Yes, for the entire wedding.

  “Ball gown? Mermaid? Sheath?”

  “I just want to try on a bunch of dresses and see what I think,” Ronnie said, almost wishing that Logan were here to help out. He had good taste and was decisive. She knew she wouldn’t be able to decide anything today probably. But, hey, pretty dresses, champagne and an afternoon off from Logan demanding that she work. Could it be much better? Running her fingers through her blue tipped hair, she smiled at Maggie. “Tell me true what you think!”

  As she walked toward the dressing rooms, she heard Maggie say, “Oh, I will. I will.”

  Ronnie squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She was going to rock every single one of these dresses. Taking another swig of her champagne she held her glass out to the woman and said, “Fill me up, would you? I need a little liquid courage for this.”

  * * *

  Logan looked up from his computer as Tyler, his assistant, buzzed him. “The wedding planner is here”

  “You mean my first interview?”

  Tyler laughed. “No, boss. That is not what I mean.”

  Cocking his head, Logan said, “Send her back.”

  He stood up and walked around his desk to open the door for his, no matter what Tyler said, first wedding planner interview. He’d set up three of them for today. Ronnie was a force to be reckoned with and it would take a special someone to handle her needs He had a way to handle her, but he’d seen her run roughshod over too many people. Often she was unknowingly just over the top. She didn’t mean to be, he knew, but she just was the type if you gave her an inch, she’d take the entire ruler and demand another one.

  “Mr. Jones. I’m Katrina Nelson.” He shook the hand of the small woman who came in quietly, yet very confidently. Her long blonde hair was plaited down her back, almost touching her waist and her dark eyes flashed with something he could not quite understand behind her huge eyeglasses. “I’m here to plan your wedding.”

  “Yes.” He instantly agreed with Tyler and wasn’t quite sure why. “Yes, you are. Call me Logan.”

  “Thank you, Logan, I’m Katrina. Now, let’s start with the basics.”

  He could not stop staring at her and needed his brain to kick in gear. “Okay. What do you need to know?”

  “When is your wedding and what have you done?” She flipped up her laptop as if she were interviewing him—no, as if she already had the job. Why did he think she did? What was with her? She had some kind of odd presence that just made him want to trust her.

  “Last Saturday in July. My fiancée is picking out her wedding dress now, and that is all we have done.” He shook his head. What was going on?

  “So I’m starting from scratch.” She sighed heavily, while inputting on the keyboard. “When will I be able to meet the bride?”

  “Tonight? Tomorrow? When is good for you?”

  “As soon as possible.” She shut her laptop and looked at him, smoldering dark eyes cutting through him. “Don’t waste my time again. I need to see both of you together within the next twenty-four hours. I sent you my contract via email. I strongly suggest you read it and have it signed before we meet again. I put my minimum requirements in there, including budget, make sure you agree to them, please.” Standing up, she turned to him. “Oh, and I will take every wedding burden off you and the bride, after I get some basic information and decisions from you both. As soon as we meet, you have no more worries than performing on the honeymoon, which I will also arrange. The honeymoon, not the performance.” She flashed him a quick smile that totally changed her demeanor and he was taken aback. “Call me as soon as you arrange a time for the br
ide to be here. I’ll clear my schedule for you.”

  She almost glided out of the room and Logan watched until she was gone then his fingers found the speed dial on his phone, before he even realized what he was doing. His twin knew though because he picked up saying, “No.”

  “Not my fault.”

  “No.”

  “I met her.”

  “No.”

  “You coming tomorrow, Lucas?”

  “Yes.”

  “You won’t be sorry”

  “You suck. I wasn’t ready.”

  Logan hung up, grinning. He had just met the woman his twin would marry. No more bachelor until the rapture for any of them. He just hoped Katrina wasn’t married already. That would be awkward. Too bad he hadn’t asked.

  “Tyler, go ahead and cancel the rest of the appointments, would you please?”

  “Already done, boss. Am I smart or what?”

  Logan laughed. What else could he do?

  Chapter 2

  Ronnie stepped out of the Uber a little after five and headed into her small house. She would miss it when she moved in with Logan. It was already for sale, though, and she would enjoy the nice shopping account the sale of it would give her. A girl needed her pin money after all. Where did that phrase come from, she wondered, unlocking the door and tossing her bags onto the couch. Did the old time ladies buy pins? Pens? With their spare money? Running her fingers through her hair, she realized she never knew what a pickled lime, that got Amy March in so much trouble, was either. Candy? Real limes dipped in pickle juice? Why did she care? She really didn’t. Putting off sitting down at her computer, she kicked off her shoes and took out her phone to admire the picture of the dress she’d picked out. It was gorgeous and she was going to knock the socks, and maybe some other things, off Logan when he saw her in it. As soon as she picked her colors, they would be adding some bling to it, and the belt would be her color and she did have a nice waist to show off. It was gorgeous as it was, but when she got done jacking it up, it would be fantastic.

  Sighing happily, she scrolled back and saw a text from Logan, “I hired a wedding planner. She wants to meet tonight. There’s a questionnaire in your email to complete.”

  Tonight? She could do tonight. Flipping over to her email, she found the questionnaire and scrolled through it. So many questions, so many details. Should she be overwhelmed or grateful someone else was dealing with all the details and the fact that someone wasn’t her? This is what you had people for, she decided, to do all the little pesky things that she didn’t want to deal with. She really didn’t feel up to working on the questionnaire either, and decided to find a snack or something to eat first. Or maybe she’d see if Logan wanted to take her out. Maybe a drink?

  As if he’d heard her thoughts, she heard his special knock on her door and then he entered. Had she forgotten to lock it behind her? Or did he use his key? She hoped it was the latter, because she didn’t really want the lecture or the sore butt sure to follow. He was so anal about some things. It could be annoying, and sometimes, yes, painful. He said it was for her own good but she’d managed just fine without his micromanaging for many years now.

  Proact, she told herself and leaped into his arms, hoping he’d catch her. He did. Kissing him all over his scruffy face, she beamed at him, “I just walked in the door! I’m so glad you are here!”

  “I guess you had a good day shopping,” he put her down after a kiss and nodded at the pile of sacks.

  “I did! I picked out the most beautiful wedding dress! You are going to love it!”

  Her first wedding had been large, filled with family and friends from both sides. This one would be a little smaller, but not by much. Logan had never been married and she wanted to give him the wedding experience, and besides, she had basically cut herself off from all her old friends, but a very few, and none of her family was around, or alive anymore. But she knew he had a lot of family and many friends, and as long as there wasn’t a segregated seating arrangement, bride’s side and groom’s side, then she would be fine. She didn’t really want a church wedding, but more of an outdoor or ballroom venue, so not segregating people shouldn’t be a problem.

  “Did you see the questions the wedding planner wanted us to fill out? I thought we could work on it together over dinner and then go meet her after,” Logan said.

  “I just walked in the door and was getting ready to open it, so that is perfect! I’m starving!” Ronnie said. “Am I going to like her?”

  “She has great references,” Logan said, “And I hope you like her.” He pulled a small clear paddle from his inside jacket pocket and her hands flew automatically to her bottom.

  “What? No!” Her head shook emphatically.

  “You’ve had a busy day and sometimes when you get tired, you forget how to behave. Sitting on a sore little butt is going to help you remember, because I don’t want you running her off.” He smacked the paddle down on his hand. “Why don’t you lift your skirt, drop the panties and bend over the island for me?”

  “No! I will behave and I don’t want a spanking! Especially not with that horrid thing!” He’d used it on her a few other times and she hated it. It stung like the very devil and made her howl.

  Logan shook his head. “And you didn’t lock the door, so realistically, you know you deserve a good paddling. But I’ll go easy on you if you cooperate.”

  “I am not going to cooperate!” She backed away from him, hands still firmly protecting her bottom.

  “If I have to put you over my knee it’s going to be worse,” he warned.

  “Then it’s going to be worse, because I’m not bending over for a spanking like you are the principal and I am a naughty school girl!”

  He grinned at that. “I like that scenario. We can play that sometime, but right now…” He grabbed her arm and half walked, half carried her to the chair by the table while she screeched and tried to get away. Why? He was going to do it anyway. But she sure wasn’t going to make it easy on him!

  “Logan! No! I mean it!”

  “Do you?” he asked almost conversationally, despite her desperate attempts to break his hold.

  In one move he sat down in the chair and had her over one knee and trapped her flailing legs with his other. She cursed the fact that she’d worn such a light dress. It had been easy to remove to try on dresses, but it was so thin and loose, it didn’t protect her bottom at all. Her hands scrambled to keep her face off the floor until the first smack came down.

  “Ow! Stop it!” she demanded and her hand flew back to protect herself. Heck with rubbing her nose on the floor.

  “I need a well-behaved future wife.” Smack “And this seems to be the only way to get that through your brain.” Smack.

  “No, it isn’t!” she screeched. “I can behave!” Three hard smacks followed and made her try to kick. “Please!”

  “Oh, I know you can,” his hand rubbed her sore butt and she moaned. Yes, that. “It’s just that you often choose not to and I’m not certain why.” His hand left and the paddle fell again with a sharp crack.

  “No more!”

  “Well, a few more,” he said. And followed through with five very sharp smacks that made her wiggle and sob.

  “I’ll be good, I promise!” she said, wishing he’d rub her bottom or let her do it.

  “A promise is a good thing. If you don’t, when we get home you are going to find yourself back over my knee, bare butt in the air, and this will seem like a good time. Do you understand?” He smacked her again.

  “Yes, sir, I do, sir, I understand,” she blubbered. “I will behave.” Was he done yet? That hurt!

  “Good girl,” he said. “Now, go look at your butt and fix your face and I’ll buy you a nice dinner.”

  He pulled her up and kissed her hard, while rubbing her butt until she almost melted in his arms. Dang him, why wasn’t she furious with him? Why did all she want was for him to hold her and haul her off to bed? It wasn’t right and she didn’t like s
ex anyway, she reminded herself as he turned her toward the bedroom. “Ten minutes. Clean up fast,” he told her. “I’ve got the timer going.”

  Sniffling, she hurried to the bathroom, wondering if he would have gone easier on her if she had bent over the kitchen island. Somehow she didn’t really think so. What did that even mean? Hit her less hard? Fewer times? She’d have to ask him sometime when he wasn’t in a paddling mood.

  Planning to watch her mouth tonight for the most part, was easy, she thought as she lifted her dress and bent over, looking behind her in the mirror. Doing it was a little bit more challenging, however, as she well knew. Sighing, she dropped her dress and stood up. As much as that hurt, her butt should be a lot redder. That was hardly fair.

  Touching up her makeup, she went in and changed clothes quickly, putting on a tight, pale blue sweater dress with three quarter length sleeves. It was a cool spring night and she didn’t want to be cold. Then pulling a few pair of shoes out, she stared.

  “The white ones,” Logan said from behind her.

  “You sure?” she said doubtfully.

  “Yes. Come on, if you want fed before we meet her, we need to go.”

  “My stomach hurts,” she pouted. “I might not be able to eat.”

  “Why does your stomach hurt? Not time for cramps.” He said that as a statement.

  “What? How do you know about that and no! It’s because someone bent me over their knee and hurt my stomach.” She slipped on the white shoes and looked in the full length mirror. Okay, that worked.

  “If your stomach hurts worse than your ass, I need to do a better job next time,” he smacked her butt and she squealed and frowned at his grin. “Let’s go.”