The Ruthless CEO's Revenge Wife
Chapter 107: The Awkward Kiss

Chapter 107: The Awkward Kiss

"Then why are you looking at me like I’m about to kiss you?"

Jean blinked fast and scowled, trying to back away... only to realize there was no more space. Her shoulder hit the wall.

Logan’s smirk deepened as he laid his head back down. "Relax, Jean. You’re not my type, remember?"

Jean clenched her jaw, rolled back onto her other side, and yanked the blanket over herself.

She hated how flustered he made her feel.

Worse, she hated how he knew it.

And yet...

Her heart was still racing as she lay there, silently praying for morning.

Jean had her back on him, teeth clenched and body stiff with resistance, when Logan moved.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the small space between them. His arm snaked around her waist, firm and warm, pulling her flush against him.

Jean stiffened instantly. "Let go," she whispered through gritted teeth.

Instead, Logan rolled her gently toward him until they were face to face again... only this time, much closer.

Dangerously close.

Their foreheads nearly touched. Their breaths mingled in the dim light. Her chest rose and fell in panic; his was steady, controlled.

His lips hovered inches from hers.

"Logan," she warned, trying to push his arm away, "stop it."

"What if I don’t?" he murmured, voice low and filled with teasing menace. "What if I like seeing you squirm?"

"I’ll scream," she hissed. "I swear I’ll scream and your parents will come..."

Logan’s smile turned wicked. "Then I’ll just have to silence you."

And before she could even part her lips to cry out, he pressed his mouth to hers.

It wasn’t a tender kiss. It was all intent and him.

Jean froze.

Her arms, once braced against him, dropped to her sides. Her heart pounded violently against her ribs. Her breath caught mid motion, and for a second, she wasn’t even sure if she was breathing anymore.

But it wasn’t passion that rooted her... it was panic.

Logan felt it.

The stiffening of her body. The hollow stillness. The way her lashes trembled.

He pulled back.

Jean’s eyes glistened, not with anger, but something else. A raw, unshed tear sat at the corner of one eye.

Logan exhaled slowly, guilt flickering through his expression.

"I didn’t marry you just to act," he said quietly. "I meant it when I said this marriage has to be real, even if it’s only for a year."

She remained silent, her hands curling into the sheets.

"I need you to start getting used to this," he added, softer now. "To me. If you want this contract to work, we can’t keep pretending we’re strangers."

Jean finally spoke, her voice barely audible. "You think forcing yourself on me is the way to do that?"

Logan looked away for a second, jaw tight. "That wasn’t my intention."

Her eyes were glassy, but her voice steadier. "It never is. And yet somehow, you always cross a line."

For a moment, the air was heavy.

Logan’s arm loosened, but didn’t fall away.

"Sleep," he muttered. "We’ll talk in the morning."

Jean didn’t respond. But this time, she didn’t pull away either.

She just lay there, eyes open, wondering if a year of this would leave her whole... or break her completely.

The early light filtered softly through the curtains, brushing golden strokes across the small bedroom. Jean stirred first, eyes fluttering open only to find herself inches from Logan’s bare chest.

Her heart jumped.

She was tucked neatly in his arms, their bodies molded together like puzzle pieces. One of her legs was tangled over his. His breath tickled the top of her head.

Oh no.

She carefully tried to wiggle out, but the arm around her waist tightened instinctively.

"Don’t," Logan mumbled, still half asleep. "Just a little longer."

Jean froze again, teeth grinding in frustration. "Let me go."

His eyes opened slowly now, blinking as the haze of sleep faded. When he finally registered how close they were, he eased his arm back with a sigh and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

Neither of them said anything for a while.

Jean sat up, brushing her hair back and keeping her eyes fixed anywhere but on him.

Logan spoke first. "About last night..."

She stiffened.

He scratched his jaw, struggling. "I shouldn’t have kissed you like that."

"You think?" she snapped before she could stop herself. Then her voice softened, quieter. "You scared me, Logan."

"I know," he admitted. "That wasn’t the plan."

"Is there ever a plan with you?" she asked bitterly, pulling the sheet closer to her body like armor. "Or do you just act on impulse and expect me to catch up?"

He looked at her now, serious. "I just... I thought if we got past the tension, things would get easier."

Jean scoffed. "You think this..." she gestured between them, "...is tension we can just sleep off?"

More silence.

Logan sat up finally, sighing as he reached for his discarded shirt. "It’s not what I wanted," he muttered, his voice rough. "Not like that."

Jean didn’t respond, only got out of bed and walked toward the bathroom. And the silence that followed felt heavier than anything they’d said.

__________________________

By the time Jean entered the dining room, the smell of pancakes and fresh fruit filled the air. Martha was flipping something on the stove, humming happily, while Jared scrolled through his tablet and Hannah sat with her face in a bowl of cereal.

Logan was already at the table.

Jean hesitated at the doorway, but Martha’s warm smile pulled her in.

"Good morning, sweetheart! Did you sleep well?" she asked, clearly in a good mood.

Jean forced a smile. "Yes... thank you."

Logan looked up from his coffee. Their eyes met. A flicker of something passed between them... awkward, sharp, uncomfortable.

Jean quickly looked away.

Hannah raised an eyebrow. "You look like you saw a ghost."

"I just woke up," Jean said flatly, sliding into a seat across from Logan.

"You two were so quiet last night," Jared commented. "I expected more... uh... newlywed noise." He grinned teasingly.

Jean choked on her orange juice.

Logan didn’t miss a beat. "We were exhausted after dinner. Someone did finish three rounds of food and half the tiramisu."

Everyone laughed... except Jean, who jabbed her fork into her fruit a little harder than necessary.

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