THE DOORBELL RANG and I opened my eyes.
“Fuck,” Logan said from behind me right before he rolled away and I felt him continue to roll as he rolled out of bed.
I twisted his way and peered at him through the predawn dark.
“Someone’s at the door,” I informed him of something he obviously knew, considering he was at the side of the bed pulling on his boxer briefs.
“Yeah,” he muttered.
I looked to the (new) alarm clock, then back to him. “At six in the morning.”
Due to Logan’s extreme dislike of alarm clocks, and his contribution to my morning (and household) routine, I’d adjusted the alarm so it didn’t wake us up before six but at six thirty.
With Logan making coffee, bringing me coffee, bringing me cereal or toasted, schmeared bagels, feeding and watering the cats and going out to jack up the thermostat in my studio and making coffee there, I had more time in the morning.
Not to mention doing other things that just gave me more time in my day. Like taking out the trash, getting in the groceries (he had no aversion to the grocery store and my groaning fridge and cupboards laid testimony to this fact), loading and emptying the dishwasher, nabbing my mail (both personal and office), and dropping it at a post box (even going to the post office if something needed special treatment).
It was now the Thursday after Logan’s weekend with his girls. He and I were getting into a rhythm. And this was part of our rhythm.
A happy part.
But there was more.
Like Logan noticing the light switch that turned on the lights to the kitchen by the living room didn’t quite catch unless you had the patience to flip it half a dozen times. So he’d gone to his RV, collected his box of tools, brought it back, opened the plate, and fixed the switch (then left his tools in my laundry room).
Like Logan noticing the spray function on my kitchen faucet didn’t work right. So he’d fiddled with it for a while, couldn’t fix it, then went out and bought a new faucet (that was not the same as the old one but it was even more awesome).
When he got back with the faucet, he didn’t screw around. Right then, he installed it.
These were things I’d lived with. Things I’d repeatedly told myself I was going to mention to Alan and ask him to fix or find a handyman to fix them. Things I always forgot to bother with then kicked myself when they came to my attention and annoyed me because I hadn’t bothered with them.
Things Logan noted weren’t working and he immediately fixed them.
In ways that I hadn’t noticed, life was kind of a bummer, having to do these things myself, I didn’t miss how the additional ways having Logan back made life not a bummer.
And it was strange, since back when we were together he didn’t do any of this stuff. He might take out the trash (if I asked). He might help me unload the dishwasher or do the dishes (if I asked). But mostly, I took care of him.
He took care of me, but not in those ways.
Now he was taking care of me in those ways.
There was something about this that made weird mix in with the wonderful because I knew that he was probably like this because when we used to be together, we were young and neither of us knew any better. We’d found our way, a way that worked, but maybe, looking back, it wasn’t the right way.
He’d learned to be that way through Deb and having a family.
You grew up, you grew smart, you had a partner, you made babies, you pitched in.
I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d had him all that time, since we couldn’t have a family of our own, if he’d have learned all this or if he’d have just gone on letting me take care of him (which might end up being a pain in the ass).
In other words, I wondered if I had Deb (and the girls) to thank.
In the end, what I came up with was the fact that life as a whole mixed weird with wonderful because I’d never know the answers to my questions. I just knew I had that new part of Logan now, no matter how he learned it, no matter that I likely did have Deb (and the girls) to thank. It just was.
And it was mine.
“Demolition crew.”
When Logan spoke, I jerked out of my thoughts and looked to him to see he had his jeans up and was bent to nab his thermal off the floor.
“Demolition crew?” I asked.
He was pulling on his shirt while walking swiftly around the bed. “Take down your garage.”
Oh.
Right.
He’d mentioned that but I’d forgotten it was today.
I’d forgotten because the girls were coming that night for dinner. I was making beef Stroganoff. And I was again a little nervous.
Just in time, I turned my head so when Logan bent in to give me a peck, I got it on my lips before the doorbell rang again and he was off to go answer it.
I reached out, turned on a light, and swung my legs off the side of the bed.
I was brushing, wondering how my neighbors were going to feel about a demolition crew starting work at six in the morning, when Logan walked into the bathroom.
“Coffee started. Cats fed. They’re movin’ their shit out back. Goin’ back there to make sure they know what they’re doin’,” he informed me.
I nodded.
He looked me top to toe to eyes, taking in my jammies, my bedhead, and the sonic toothbrush in my mouth.
“Only bitch on the planet who can brush her teeth and make me wanna fuck her while she’s doin’ it,” he remarked.
I narrowed my eyes, pulled my toothbrush out of my mouth—the movement of the head splattering spit, paste, and foam everywhere—and snapped a frothy, “Don’t call me a bitch.”
He grinned like I was highly amusing and disappeared.
I shoved my brush back into my mouth, looked back into the mirror, stopped scowling, and kept brushing but did it grinning.
* * *
The door to my studio opened and the alarm didn’t sound.
It didn’t sound because Logan was on the premises, making sure the demolition crew did what he was paying them to do but also keeping his eye on me.
So the only sound I got when Logan opened the door and stuck his head in was, “Babe.”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Got a second?”
I didn’t. I had to leave in fifteen minutes to meet a corporate client, a law firm that did three to four parties a year, all with me, and they were gearing up for their annual holiday party.
“Sure,” I said, rolling my chair back and getting up.
As I walked his way, Logan treated me to another appreciative top to toe glance, cementing what was already firm in my mind.
He didn’t need halter tops and cutoff shorts.
He just needed me.
I was already feeling warm and happy inside when I got close and he reached out, took my hand, and pulled me out into the chill, something that incongruously made me feel warmer.
“You gonna be okay without a jacket?” he asked as he shut the door.
No way I could get a chill hand in hand with Logan.
And anyway, I had on a sweater. I’d be okay.
I nodded.
Logan kept hold of my hand as he walked me through my courtyard to the gate to the backyard.
The minute we were through the gate and moving across the bricked patio toward the steps that led us down the terraced backyard to the lower bricked patio, I saw over the fence at the end of the yard that the garage was gone.
As I saw it, I also marveled at the change it made.
It had been an eyesore. I’d always planned to knock it down and put a decent garage there so I didn’t have to scrape my windshield in the winter.
Currently I parked in the courtyard even though, beside the garage, I had a parking space in the back and parking in the courtyard messed with the vision of the courtyard, one that included (eventually) getting a fountain. But parking way out back just never seemed safe, walking through my dark backyard to get to my house. Not to mention, lugging groceries would be a pain.
Nevertheless, scraping windshields in the Colorado cold was more of a pain, so I’d wanted a garage. It was the last big project and I hadn’t done it because any project I did I did paying cash and I hadn’t saved enough to put in the garage.
Seeing the dilapidated old garage gone, I realized I should have used what I’d already saved just to demolish it. The absence of the garage made the entire yard look better.
Logan led me out the back gate to the large, cleared, and tidied space at the edge of my property and I couldn’t help but to smile.
They’d showed at six. They’d set up. They’d demolished. They’d carted off the remains. And it wasn’t even eleven o’clock.
“They’re fast,” I noted, looking up at Logan, who was still holding my hand warm in his.
“Yeah,” he murmured, glancing around. His gaze came to me. “Now, Millie, you’re cool with it, gonna grade this, gravel it, then build a fence around the perimeter.”
He lifted the hand not holding mine to indicate the entire area. An area that to one side my neighbors had a relatively new fence leading to the very edge of their property line, and on the other side, my neighbors had a shabby fence also leading to their property line.
“Big doors to the alley,” Logan continued. He turned us to the back fence to my property. “Build a new fence there, coupla feet higher. Swing my RV in here. Fence higher at the back, won’t see the RV from the yard. Fence around the RV, keeps it safer. Motion sensor lights out here, makes it even safer. Put smaller gates in at the side.” He pointed. “Easy access to the alley and the Dumpsters.”
Although he clearly had it all thought out, and his vision was a good vision, one could say I didn’t like this.
Logan’s RV was huge. It’d take up the entire space.
Which meant I wouldn’t get my garage, and more importantly, I wouldn’t eventually be able to avoid scraping my windshields.
“You’re not down with that?” he asked.
I looked up to him. “No. It’s cool.”
His hand gave mine a squeeze. “You’re not down with that,” he stated.
I smiled at him. “No, really, I’m cool.”
“Babe,” he said.
“What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“You’re not down with that,” he repeated.
I shook my head and replied, “It’s not that. It’s just that I wanted to put a garage out here, a new one. A nice one. One with an opener and one that would mean ice scraping would be history. But you need a safe place for your RV. I’m used to parking in the courtyard. And a new garage would mean putting in motion sensor lights everywhere so I didn’t kill myself in the dark getting up to the house. That’s a big project and a lot of money. So,” I shrugged, “whatever. I like your vision. It’s all good.”
He studied me a second, then tugged on my hand, leading me back through the gate but stopping us on the lower patio.
He looked around. He did it holding my hand but he did it for a long time.
I didn’t know what was on his mind. I wanted to know what was on his mind but I also had a meeting.
So I needed to step this up.
“Low,” I called his attention to me.
When I got it, he declared, “We got a problem.”
I was confused.
“What? How?”
He turned us to the back fence. “’Cause if we move that fence in to give you room for your garage and me room to pull in the RV nose-first at the side, you lose at least half this patio, probably more.” He pointed to the brick beneath our feet. Then he turned us to the house. “And we gotta look at building on two rooms. We do that, not only gonna eat up some of your courtyard, also gonna eat up some of that top patio.”
This also didn’t fill me with glee.
To give his daughters their own rooms and the house a dining room meant I’d lose even more of the vision I had for my house that I’d nurtured and fed for eleven years.
That would suck.
Not allowing Logan to have what he needed for himself and his daughters would suck more.
“So grade the back and put the RV in as you planned,” I decided.
He looked down at me. “Means you don’t get your garage.”
“I’ve lived without it since I’ve lived here,” I told him. “I can continue to live without it.”
His hand tightened in mine. “Millie—”
I cut him off. “Alternate scenarios are to extend the pergola over the courtyard or fully roof it so we can park under that. We’d avoid snow on our vehicles even if we didn’t avoid ice.”
This I didn’t like either unless carefully designed. Not carefully designed, it’d look ugly. And that was not only my view out the kitchen window but out the studio windows as well.
“Or,” I went on, “we can make the courtyard into the backyard space. Put in a fountain. Some furniture. Clients can park out front or in the drive. And we can eat up this patio for the garage and your RV space because we’d still have our outside area and it’d be closer to the house.”
“May need part of the courtyard for the dining room and bedroom, beautiful,” Logan reminded me.
I lifted my shoulders and gave it all.
“So, we grade the back, put your RV there, and when it gets to the point where you have the girls more often, we move to a new house.”
Logan’s hand tightened in mine again, doing this firm, and it felt like it was automatic.
This reaction confused me too.
I used his name to ask my question. “Logan?”
“You made this yours. You dig it. Not gonna make you move,” he said.
He was right. I liked that he cared about that for me because I cared about it too.
However.
“It’s just a house.”
“You made it yours, Millie.”
“So I’ll make another house mine, actually ours. And that’s probably good. My house is girlie. I think Cleo and Zadie dig it, even though Zadie wouldn’t admit that now. But that doesn’t negate the fact that a man will be living with us and we have to have a mind to that. Though,” I carried on quickly, “I will say now, no more fixer-uppers. Even if it takes us two years, we find something right for all of us and that right will be an as-is right. Not a do-a-load-of-work-on-it-for-years right. I’ve been there done that got the T-shirt with the renovation thing and I use the T-shirt as a dust cloth because the results were spectacular but the road to that was a pain in my ass. Not to mention super-freaking-expensive.”
He stared down at me a beat, the look in his eyes one I couldn’t read.
Right before I was going to ask what was up with him, I found my mouth engaged in doing something else. Namely him plundering it with his tongue.
I held on tight, my arms around his shoulders, my body pressed to his, his arms snug around me, and felt the gratitude (and other things) he communicated through his kiss.
Upcoming meeting I was soon to be late for or not, I was disappointed when it ended.
But it ended and it ended on an extremely high note when he said immediately after, “Love you, Millie.”
“Love you too, Snooks,” I breathed.
He rested his forehead on mine a second before he lifted a bit away. “Grade the back for now, build the fence. Cost won’t be too high, we figure somethin’ out about stayin’ at your pad and change our minds and hafta tear the fence down to build a garage. Yeah?”
I nodded.
“No answer now,” he said. “But want you thinkin’ on it. When you got an answer, you give it to me straight up, no worries about my reaction. But you built somethin’ beautiful here, babe.” He jerked his head toward my house. “If you’re gonna have a problem lettin’ that go—”
“Logan,” I interrupted him. “The only problem I’ll have is if I don’t have you wherever it is I am.” I pressed closer and dipped my voice quieter. “Like I said. It’s just a house. Do I love it?” I asked, then answered myself. “Yes. But it’s an it. You’re you. You’re back so that means my home is where you are. It’s that simple and that’s your answer. I don’t have to think about it for even a second.”
I got done with my speech and got another kiss. This was longer, hotter, harder and it spoke of gratitude and a lot of other things, lots of them, and they were all good.
Unfortunately, when he broke it that time, I had to share, “I’ve got a meeting, Snook’ums.”
“Right,” he muttered, staring at my mole.
“Low,” I called.
He looked to my eyes.
“Sort out the back. Get your RV here. All that’s you. Really come home,” I ordered.
“Fuck,” he growled. “You don’t quit the sweet, you ain’t gonna be late for your meeting. You’re not gonna make it.”
I grinned. “Okay, then let me go so I don’t lose a client and perhaps my ability to pay for more staff so I can have more time for you.”
“I let you go, gotta watch your ass in that skirt walkin’ up to your studio,” he returned.
I grinned again but on the inside.
“You really do have sex on the brain,” I noted.
“Think you missed it, Millie, but haven’t fucked you yet today.”
I hadn’t missed it.
“I think that means tonight’s gonna be fun,” I replied.
He shook his head but did it with lips curled up.
“Are you gonna let me go?” I asked.
“No,” he answered, even as he did what he said he wasn’t going to do. “Never. Not ever, babe.” His eyes warmed. “But I’ll let you go to your meeting.”
Now he was being sweet.
“No fair. Now I wanna jump you.”
His eyes stayed warm but his smile was cocky.
This could go on all day. And in order to be able to jump him whenever I felt like it (eventually), I needed Justine on board.
Which meant I needed my client.
So I reached to his thermal, grabbed a fistful, and pulled him to me. I got up on toes to press my lips hard to his and then shifted away.
“Later, Snooks,” I whispered.
“Later, baby,” he whispered back.
I grinned at him and let him go.
Then I walked away. Even in a hurry, I did it slow so I could give him a show because I knew my man was watching and I was his old lady.
We gave like that.
We gave anything we could.
* * *
It was that evening and I was walking on clouds because it was going great.
Logan had picked the girls up from dance practice on Tuesday and taken them out to dinner, just him and them. Other than that, it had been only phone calls.
But having them there now, I noticed that since our weekend, something had changed.
They’d arrived at my house that night, Logan picking them up from their mother’s, and although Zadie was a bit moody and uncommunicative, Cleo was not.
There had been barriers before between Cleo and me. She’d been the way she was with me solely to get the approval of her father.
I knew this now because those barriers were eroding.
Through chitchat while cooking, horsing about, and eating beef Stroganoff at my bar, Cleo introduced me to the real Cleo.
And she was a love.
Sure, she adored her father and wanted his approval.
But when it wasn’t something she was working at, when it was just a natural part of her, coupling that with Logan’s reaction to it, it was sweet to the point it was downright cute.
So cute it gave a happy glow that I was beside myself with glee I got to bask in it.
Though it was more.
She was unreservedly delighted when I let her give fresh food to the cats. When I asked about dance, she’d timidly (then with my encouragement and compliments, not so timidly) showed me some of the moves they were rehearsing for their routine, so damned adorable doing this in my kitchen, I felt even more glow warming me to my bones.
And she didn’t hide how much she liked my house and the studio when I took them on a guided tour of both after the dinner dishes were done, saying to me shyly while standing in the guestroom, “It’ll be fun when we get to sleep over, Millie.”
More glow.
Further adding to this goodness, it seemed that as all this went on, Zadie was studying it, watching Cleo come out of her shell and my reaction to it. And I hoped, in watching, that she’d find she’d want to start building something like that with me too.
Now things were winding down. We were going to hang in front of the TV with a batch of cupcakes from Tessa’s Bakery that I’d picked up on the way back from my meeting. We were going to do something normal that a family would do at the end of the day before Logan had to take them back to their mom’s.
The girls were selecting seats (Zadie, not surprisingly, pulling a princess and getting the cuddle chair, Cleo, not suffering in getting the love seat) and Logan had claimed his, the corner of the couch.
He also claimed me. His hand catching mine, he was pulling me down beside him when I watched Poem struggle up into the love seat with Cleo, unable to jump that height, so she used her claws.
Seeing that, I put tension in my arm to resist Logan’s pull and looked around, asking, “Anyone seen Chief?”
I asked this because I hadn’t. Not since Cleo gave them fresh food before we sat down for dinner.
Chief and Poem had settled into their new abode, putting up with me loving on them, enjoying me playing with them, and were currently in the throes of figuring out who ruled the roost.
This meant a lot of kitty wrestling.
However, I’d noticed that Chief was winning. Poem was starting to hang back and wait to see where Chief would claim before she decided to challenge his claim or allow it.
It was rare when they weren’t both around, jockeying for position.
Rare as in, it never happened.
But Chief was nowhere to be seen.
“Haven’t seen him, babe,” Logan muttered.
I looked to Cleo, who had a hand stretched to a skittish Poem but her eyes to me. “I haven’t either.”
“Think he went outside when we went to your office,” Zadie stated, and my eyes shot to her, my blood freezing in my veins.
“What?” I whispered.
She stared at me and I was way too freaked to see anything but confusion in her face. “Not sure but I think I saw him wander outside when we went out—”
I tore my hand from Logan’s and raced to the back door, throwing it open and sprinting outside.
It was cold. It was dark.
And my Chief was tiny.
They were not going to be outside cats and not because they cost a fortune and had bushy coats that were hard enough to keep tamed as indoor cats and this would be impossible if they went outdoors.
But because I’d read that indoor cats lived longer than outdoor cats. Way longer. Like… years.
Further, they’d showed not the first sign of being interested in the outdoors or being bored with the playroom of a house they’d already been given.
So they were good indoors, which was where they were going to stay.
But now Chief had gotten out. A baby, tiny, anything could happen to him. He could get lost. He could be attacked and stand no chance. Not even if a bird swooped down.
Oh God.
God.
How had I not noticed him getting out?
“Chief,” I called, my eyes darting around as I quickly roamed the courtyard. “Come on, baby. You out here? Chief?”
“Chief.” I heard Cleo call. “Here kitty-kitty. Here Chiefy-Chiefy.”
I then heard the gate to the backyard open and looked that way to see Logan prowl through it with a flashlight.
“Chief!” I cried, moving toward the studio. “Come here, kitty. Come to Momma, baby.”
Cleo called. I called. I felt and saw her searching with me. I skirted the entirety of the outside of the studio. Cleo and I then moved down the drive and searched the front of the house. Cleo was edging toward my neighbor’s yard when I headed the opposite way and saw Logan stalking down the drive.
I raced to him.
“Nothing?” I asked, my voice pitched high with panic.
He looked toward his daughter. “Clee-Clee. Come back with me.”
I grabbed onto his thermal for the second time that day but in an entirely different way.
When I got his attention, I cried frantically, “Did you find something?”
“Open space up here, baby,” he said gently. “More hiding places back there. Need two sets of eyes. You keep lookin’ up here.” He glanced around. “Where’s Zadie? She not helpin’ you up here?”
I didn’t know where Zadie was and the only thing on my mind in that moment was where Chief was.
“I don’t know.”
“I’ll go back with you, Daddy,” Cleo said, already rushing up the drive.
“Keep lookin’,” Logan urged to me as I stood frozen and stared after Cleo.
I aimed my eyes to him. “He’s so tiny.”
He lifted a hand to curl it around the side of my neck. “Keep lookin’, baby.”
“He’s so tiny, Low. Just a baby. What if a dog—?”
He gave my neck a squeeze. “Keep lookin’. Hear?”
It was the hear? that got me.
I pulled my shit together, nodded, moved away, and hurried toward my neighbor’s yard. I sensed Logan going back up the drive.
I barely got into the yard, calling out to Chief and heading to my neighbor’s door to knock on it and ask if they’d seen my cat, then beg them to help us look when I heard Logan bellow, “Millie!”
I sprinted toward his voice, which meant up the drive and into my courtyard.
When I arrived, I saw Cleo was standing at the back gate. Logan was standing several feet away from the back door to my house.
Zadie was standing in the opened door, holding Chief tight to her throat.
“I found him—” she started.
She didn’t get it all out. I flew to her and tried (but failed) to keep my shit together as I pulled Chief out of her hold and into mine.
I cuddled him close, whispering, “Oh, God. Oh, baby. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
“Where’d you find him?”
My relief was pierced when this was barked by Logan.
“In-inside,” Zadie stammered her reply.
At her tone, I took a step back so I could look at her.
She was looking at her father and doing it looking terrified.
And guilty.
Then I looked to Logan, who simply looked infuriated.
He’d read his daughter’s look.
“M-m-maybe I was wrong,” she went on. “Maybe I-I-I didn’t see him run out.” Her eyes glanced off me before looking beyond me. “F-f-found him curled up on that long chair in your bedroom.”
“Everyone inside,” Logan snarled, and I held Chief closer as Logan waited for Cleo to dash inside before he strode purposefully toward the door.
I darted a hand out when he got close to me, wrapping it around his forearm to waylay him.
He looked down at me and he was my man, I knew him. I knew the old him and the new him. And I knew, even with the fury burning into me from his gaze, he’d handle this and not lose it (too much).
But still, at the look on his face, I had to fight back quailing.
“Take a second,” I whispered, still holding a now squirming Chief close. “Take a breath.”
He didn’t take a second and he didn’t take a breath. He twisted his arm from my hold but in turn took hold of my hand and dragged me (and Chief) into the house.
He slammed the door and Chief jumped in my arms, starting to claw when he heard the loud noise.
Then Logan dragged us into the living room where Zadie was now standing, looking more terrified and still guilty. Her sister was standing several feet to her side, looking at her like she wanted to shake some sense into her.
Logan let my hand go, and before he let loose the wrath I felt sweltering from him, I hurriedly spoke.
“Okay, everyone,” I started. “It’s all good.” I kept talking as I bent to release Chief on the floor. He scampered away and I straightened. “Chief’s here. He’s safe. Let’s all take a quick moment to collect ourselves—”
Logan cut me off.
“Right now. The truth,” he demanded of his youngest. “You see that cat run out the door?”
“I thought—” she began.
He bent forward and thundered, “The truth!”
Her chin quivered and it took her some time to get up the nerve, the time she took building more heat in her father, so it was fortunate she found the courage before he exploded (again).
“N-no,” she whispered.
“So you’re standin’ there tellin’ me you scared the shit outta Millie just to be a snot,” Logan declared.
I put a hand to his biceps and held tight.
“Low, you need to take a moment,” I advised.
He didn’t even look at me.
He kept his gaze pinned to his girl.
“Answer me,” he demanded.
“I…” she started, trailed off, looked to me, and burst into tears as she burst into a flurry of words. “I’m sorry! It was mean! I didn’t think you’d get so scared! I thought you’d look inside first and find him!” Her watery eyes went to her father. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I didn’t mean to scare her that bad.”
Logan was immune to her tears. “But you meant to scare her.”
She pulled in a painful, hiccoughing breath, still bawling, nodded, and looked at me. “Not that bad, though. Swear. Swear! Not that bad!”
“It’s okay, sweetie,” I said gently.
“It fuckin’ is not,” Logan bit out.
I looked to him. “Low,” I said, this time quietly. “Careful. Language.”
Again, he didn’t even look at me.
But he did gesture to me, jerking his head my way.
“Love her,” he growled. “Bottom of my soul, straight to my gut, I love this woman. Told you that so you already know she’s got that from me. But she decided she didn’t give a shit about my girls and did nasty things to you that made you hurt or made you scared, she’d be gone. She’d never see my face again. She’d be history. Now, love her and love you, Zade. So you do that shit to her, what am I supposed to do with you?”
Zadie’s hiccoughing sob tore at my heart but still, I had it in me to move swiftly to Zadie, pull her into my side, wrapping both arms around her, while snapping irately, “Logan! Calm down!”
Finally, he looked to me. “It’s not okay what she’s done.”
“You’re right and the lesson is obviously a hard one but I think she’s learning it,” I returned.
“I agree but I gotta make sure she learns it in a way she won’t forget,” he shot back.
“I’m thinking that’s working,” I retorted.
He looked to his girl. “It working?”
She nodded her head desperately.
Poor thing.
I lifted a hand and swept her beautiful, thick, soft dark hair from her face, then bent to her and used my thumb to wipe her cheeks.
“Okay, darling, it’s over now,” I said gently. “All done. All good. Okay?”
She turned wet eyes to me and didn’t get a chance to answer because Logan ordered, “Get your shit. I’m takin’ you back to your mother’s.”
That was not a good idea. We needed to calm this here and now and move on.
I straightened and glared at him.
Zadie pulled away from me.
I didn’t get a shot to try to get Logan to step into another room with me so we could chat about what was going on. He turned and strode to his cut that was hanging on the hook by the back door. He shrugged it on and handed his girls’ jackets to each in turn as they hesitantly moved to him. He then swiped his car keys off the counter and came to me.
Hooking me at the neck, he gave me a quick, hard kiss and muttered, “I’ll be back.”
After that, he let me go, walked through his girls and right out the door.
“Uh… see you later, Millie,” Cleo said shakily.
All I was able to do was nod before she followed her father.
Zadie began to move after her sister but I quickly moved, too, grabbing her hand so she was forced to walk with me.
Logan was behind the wheel, Cleo closing her door at the front passenger side so I moved Zadie to the passenger side back.
I stopped her before she could reach high to open the door, and with a tug at her hand, turned her to me.
“He loves you, sweetie,” I told her a truth I hope she knew in her heart. “He’ll cool down and it’ll be okay.”
I spoke these words and then watched her face twist in a way so ugly, I dropped her hand.
“He hates me,” she spat. “Because of you. Which means I hate you.”
Right.
So maybe she didn’t learn her lesson.
I had a split second to make a choice.
I made it when she turned away from me and reached to the door.
I reached beyond it, crowding her and pressing my hand into the door so she couldn’t open it and was forced to turn back.
The instant she did, I bent to her and declared, “I love him. Bottom of my heart, straight through my soul, I love your dad. And when you love someone like that, your only reason for breathing is to make him happy. I want that more than anything, to make him happy. And I can make him happy in a lot of ways, Zadie, but the only thing that would make him truly happy through and through is if all his girls got along. I know this is hard on you. I’m very sorry it’s hard. You might not believe that but my heart breaks for you, what you want you can’t have and learning that so young. It’s tough, the toughest lesson you can learn in life. So tough, people a lot older than you don’t learn it until it’s too late. But sometimes we gotta let go of what we want when it isn’t to be had, find a new dream and work for that. I want that dream for your dad. And I hope you’ll find some way to want that with me so we can work together and give it to him.”
I delivered that speech, straightened away from her and the door, and took a step back.
She glared up at me a moment before she turned away, reached high, tugged open the door, and hauled her little girl body inside.
She slammed it.
I sighed and backed away from the truck.
Logan gave me a chin lift and Cleo gave me a wave that was back to hesitant before he instigated his multipoint turn to drive away.
As he did this, I moved to the door and stood in it until I couldn’t see them anymore.
Only then did I go inside.
* * *
I heard the truck on his return.
Therefore, I was sitting on the arm of the couch, facing the back door, when Logan got back.
He came in, eyes to me before he turned away, closed the door, unarmed and rearmed the alarm, and locked the door.
He then walked to me.
I spread my jeans-clad legs so he could get close but kept my seat.
He got close, walking to stand between my legs.
He then lifted a hand to cup my cheek. “You okay?”
I put my hands to his flat stomach. “You were hard on her.”
“Didn’t ask your opinion ’bout how I dealt with my kid,” he replied—not mean, he just had other things on his mind that took precedence. “You okay?”
“Chief’s all right and was never in any danger so, yes. I’m fine about that.” I shook my head but did it while he held his touch. “Not sure I’m fine with how you dealt with it.”
“Nasty’s escalating. No tellin’ where she’ll take it if I don’t nip it in the bud.”
“She told me outside your truck she hated me because now you hate her.”
His jaw got hard before he asked, “And what’d you say to that shit?”
“I told her I loved you and it was my job to make you happy and I hoped she’d help me do that.”
“Good cop, bad cop.”
I stared.
Then I asked, “What?”
“Babe, I lost it and I get that you think it was over the top but it wasn’t. That shit was not right and no way she should even have a hint of thinkin’ that was okay. Not to get what she wants from me. Not to get what she wants from a teacher. Or kids at school. Not ever. Through that, you didn’t pile shit on her with me. You were calm. You were nice. You were forgiving. She got it rough from me so what you were givin’ her didn’t sink in. My girl’s bein’ a snot but she’s not stupid. She’ll think on it and clue in.”
“So you were that hard on her because you wanted to make me the good guy?” I asked in disbelief.
He bent slightly to me to get his face closer to mine. “I was that hard on her because she deserved it.” When I opened my mouth, he stated, “Bottom line. Burns in me my baby girl’s even got it in her to do somethin’ that fucked up. So, Millie, she deserved it.”
I had to admit, I saw his point there.
“Deb’s gonna hear about this,” he continued. “And she’s not gonna be happy. She doesn’t put up with crap like that. She offered to wade in. I’m gonna call her and tell her she’s up.”
That was a surprise.
“She offered to wade in?”
He dropped his hand from my face and straightened to look down at me from his full height.
“Talked to her after last weekend so she’d know I got this battle on my hands with Zadie and I intend to win it. She said she’s on board however I need her to help. She also said she wants to meet you and I’m thinkin’ that’s a good idea.”
That was also a surprise and a scary one.
Not the part that he’d talked to his ex.
One thing I knew for certain about men like Logan was, you trusted them. You didn’t invade their phones. You didn’t search their cars. You didn’t listen in on calls. You didn’t ask them to account for every second of their days. You trusted them to do right, if not all the time, at least by you.
He and Deb shared kids, so he was going to talk to her and I wasn’t going to be the woman in his life that demanded he detail every conversation they had.
No.
The scary surprise wasn’t that.
It was that she wanted to meet me.
I barely controlled my voice pitching high when I asked, “What?”
“You meet her. You two connect. Not sayin’ you guys are gonna be best buds. What I’m sayin’ is, you meet her, you connect, we do somethin’, the three of us with the girls. Maybe not dinner but maybe she drops ’em off here, comes in, you make her welcome. She has a drink and a chat, takes off before we take the girls out to do somethin’. They see you and Deb gettin’ on and Deb supportin’ what we got, they’ll move toward doin’ the same thing.”
This was actually somewhat ingenious.
“That’s not a bad idea, Low.”
His brows shot up in manly affront. “I know it’s not.”
“Are you… is she…?” I shook my head and started again. “Are you sure she’s cool with meeting me?”
“She wants me happy.”
I stared at him again.
Then I muttered, “I seriously don’t get what you had with her.”
“Two kids. That’s it,” he replied, even though I didn’t expect a response. “It’s totally fucked. Lived the whole time with her knowin’ that. It’s just the way it is with her. She’s not a woman you love. She’s not even a woman you try to make happy ’cause you’ll fail. She’s just a woman. And she’s good with that. She says she’s happy. Cleo says she’s happier without me there. She’s got what she wants, two daughters she can give what she’s got to give without tryin’ to pretend she has somethin’ with her man. But she’s also a decent woman and she says she wants me happy. I believe that because she’s a decent woman. Now we both got what we want so it ain’t fucked anymore. It just is.”
“I have to admit, you having a non-psycho, pining, or pissed-off ex is definitely a plus to our ongoing situation,” I blurted.
Logan grinned.
“Yeah. Deb gave me two beautiful girls and not much else. But she’s givin’ us that. Outside my girls, best thing she can give.”
As insane as that was, it was also true.
I stood, and since he didn’t move an inch when I did, this put us deep in each other’s space.
When I got there, I pushed my hands in his cut so I could curl them in the sides of his shirt.
Only then did I carefully advise, “You need to have more patience with Zadie.”
Logan lifted his hands and rested them lightly where my neck met my shoulders. “She’s had ten years of patience from her old man, baby. This is a monster I created. It’s tough work, I didn’t like doin’ that to her, but I gotta do the work to beat back the monster and bring out my little girl. I know she hasn’t givin’ you any of it, babe, but when she’s not bein’ like that, which she’s never been as bad as that, but she still can be a princess, she’s sweet as can be. God’s honest truth. She’s funny and full a’ love. And I want her to give you that.”
“I understand that,” I replied. “But you need to have more patience, Logan.”
He looked into my eyes before he agreed by nodding.
I let go of his shirt, pushed closer, and wrapped my arms around him, tipping my head way back as I erased any space between us while watching him tip his head way down to keep my eyes.
“You only had half of what you wanted for a long time. I understand tasting the promise of getting it all and wanting that to happen now,” I said quietly.
“Yeah,” he murmured, stroking my throat with one of his thumbs.
“What you have to get, Snooks, is that we’re all here, all you wanted you now have, and things might not be great right now, but we’re not going anywhere.”
He dipped his head even closer so all I could see was his eyes and I could feel the whisper of his nose.
“Yeah,” he repeated, sweeping his thumb along my jaw.
“Now, are you okay?” I asked, and watched his eyes smile.
“Yeah,” he said again.
“Good,” I whispered.
“Be a whole lot better, you dropped to your knees and got down to business.”
I felt my eyes widen then narrow before I rolled them to the ceiling.
“Sex on the brain,” I said to the ceiling.
“Babe, you haven’t blown me in three days.”
I rolled my eyes back to him. “You’re counting?”
“Do I have a dick to be blown?” he asked.
“Yes,” I snapped.
“Then fuck yeah I’m counting.”
I unwound my arms from him so I could plant my hands on my hips, suggesting, “How about we make that thirteen days?”
“You can keep your mouth from my cock that long, have at it.”
“Like you’re down with that,” I scoffed.
“Nope,” he said. “But done with this conversation seein’ as I’m about to be down on something else.”
“Logan!” I snapped.
He moved a hand to my chest, pushing me so I fell over the arm of the couch.
I landed and had no chance to get my body under my control before his hands clamped on my hips and yanked them to the arm so my ass was resting there.
Then they went to my zipper.
“Logan,” I whispered.
In the end, it was Logan who dropped to his knees.
He didn’t mind.
I didn’t either.
I so didn’t.
Not even a little bit.