His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

Chapter 282

Chapter 282 Joyride

Ella

“Wait! What about that ride?” I slowly turned around, my eyes wide, my heart hammering in my chest. My eyes were met with Logan’s smirking face, his expression dancing with mischief.

“Well?” Logan asked, pushing himself off of the hood of one of the cars and coming over to meet me by the door. “Just one joyride? I’m itching for a good drive. Being stuck in the basement all day really made me crave seeing the sunset. I swallowed. “I really shouldn’t,” I said, glancing at my watch. “I’ve got work…”

“Work, shmork,” Logan interrupted with a grin.

“Pick a car. Any car.” “But… I’ve never been on a really fast ride,” I stammered, my mind a whirl of confusion and excitement. “I mean, growing up in such a dense city, we barely drove at all except to go to our mountain estate in the summers.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up, and he let out a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with amusement and making them stand out against his dirt- stained skin. “So that must be why you always want to walk everywhere.”

looked away feeling self-conscious. How had he noticed

voice soft and coaxing, his hand gesturing at the row of sleek, gleaming cars. “Pick one, and I’ll take you for a joyride. We can check out the scenery, and I promise it’ll be an

torn between curiosity and caution. My wolf was howling inside me, urging me to take the plunge, to let loose and have some fun. But the

“I mean, it’s very generous of you, but I really should be going. I have

gentle but firm. He grabbed my shoulders and guided me away from the door and back. toward the cars. If this was a trap, then I really was just a helpless little mouse. “Don’t overthink it. Just choose a car and let’s go.

any sign of deception or hidden agenda. All I saw was sincerity and

I finally said, my voice barely

he clapped his hands together, “Fantastic! Now, which

red one with the cream-colored leather interior. There

said, my voice full of wonder. “It

one. Everyone does,” he said, his

help but feel a bit nervous. My father was always incredibly cautious when it came to driving, sometimes to a fault. He never drove too fast unless he really needed to,

to calm myself. “Ready?” Logan asked, his voice full of

him, my eyes wide, and nodded. “Ready,” I whispered, feeling a strange mixture of fear and

of the garage and onto the winding road. At first,

He drove fast, but it was a controlled kind of fast. I could tell he knew what he was doing, and I started

wind as he put the convertible top down, his eyes on the road, his hands steady on

tight ponytail. As

passing between us. He grinned, and I grinned back, feeling a connection that was

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