“What are you proposing? Total honesty?” He scoffs, although his gaze doesn’t leave mine. As if he’s considering my proposal.

I nod. “Total honesty. Both ways. You be totally honest with me, and I’ll be totally honest with you.”

He turns toward a bin and inspects the wood situation. Without a word, he walks past me and disappears outside.

I suck in a deep breath, silently cursing myself. Have I pushed him too far, too soon?

I’m about to follow him outside, when he reappears carrying a stack of firewood. After dropping the wood into the bin, he turns toward me.

“If honesty’s what you want, I can try. But I can’t promise anything. I’m not a share your feelings kinda guy, and I doubt I ever will be.”

He’s still watching me. Having Logan’s full attention is almost dizzying. He’s intense and electrifying, all rolled into one. He’s also huge and muscular and gorgeous…

“I’ll, uh, go first,” I stammer, trying to be a professional instead of a woman who’s noticing how very attractive this man is.

Get it together, Summer.

I need to show Logan that he can trust me, and one way of showing him that is by sharing my deepest thoughts and secrets. But then I hesitate, because I’m suddenly a little self-conscious about the truth-bomb I’m about to drop on him. It’s been a constant thought I’ve had since I got here. Maybe part of me is desperate to admit this out loud to another human being.

After swallowing hard, I begin. “I’m alone a lot, and it scares me how much I’ve gotten used to that. Seeing your family here and being around them, seeing how much they all rely on one another and generally need one another . . . I’m scared I’ll never have that. And it petrifies me that I’m going to be alone forever with no one or no family to call my own.”

When Logan doesn’t say anything for several heartbeats, I grow self-conscious and focus on the floor. “Too much total honesty for you?”

He shakes his head. “No. Not at all. You . . . live alone?”

“Yes. I have a studio apartment. Four hundred fifty square feet, all to myself.”

He curses under his breath, looking surprised. “I’ve stayed in bigger hotel rooms.”

Sighing, I nod. “So have I.”

I don’t need to tell him it’s all I can afford. I’m sure he’s aware that his salary and mine are miles apart, and that Boston is an extremely expensive city to live in.

Chewing on my lip, I hesitate briefly before asking, “What about you?”

“You want total honesty?” His voice carries a touch of uncertainty.

I nod, wondering if I’m eager for his answer because I’m a therapist, or because I’m a human looking for connection with a stranger.