During the night, a decent amount of snow fell but apparently, the roads are open since the delivery of the stove is a go. I dug out the snowblower Dad purchased years ago and cleared the snow out from in front of the house along with the lane out to the county road. I had just enough time to shower and make myself presentable when the appliance guys arrive. Once the stove is hooked up and operational, the guys haul off the old one and an hour later, I'm working on a new batch of breads. As they're baking, making the house smell wonderful, memories of family holidays overwhelm me. Images of me and Mom and Dad flash through my mind of us decorating inside and out, building a family of snowmen, and still roasting marshmallows over an open-pit fire in the backyard in the winter. Of breakfast for dinner on Christmas Eve, watching holiday movies, and staying up until midnight to open one present each.
A smile crosses my face and I realize while there will always be a touch of sadness at the recent changes in my life, it's time to cherish those happy moments, move on from my self-pity, and make way for new memories.
The buzzer for the oven snaps me to attention and as I look around, I realize there's not one decoration to be seen. That must change. First, I turn off the oven and open the oven door, letting the bread sit for a few more moments. Then giddy with newfound zeal, I load up a holiday playlist on my phone, and while it's blaring, I head down to the basement in search of the bins containing the decorations. Stormi at first doesn't know what to think as she follows me down, but between the dust making her sneeze and my inattentiveness to her, she gives up. Content to stretch out in the kitchen, she watches me make a few trips back and forth until I've got several bins sitting in the living room. Ensuring the breads are out of the oven and cooling, and Stormi's had lunch, I grab my third cup of coffee and begin to dig through the containers. Since I don't have a tree, I forego many of the ornaments, pulling out an assortment that'll still look great placed on the mantle, tabletops, and shelves. I even decide to string some up in the windows using curling ribbon.
Then another idea hits me. When visiting Mom and Bea, I'd noticed decorations throughout the areas of the center I'd seen, but I wasn't sure if they had anything in their rooms. I decide to fashion together two wreaths using ornaments, cones, and sparkly ribbon. I watch the clock, ensuring I give myself enough time to take the wreaths today.
I take a break to get Stormi outside for a bit, romping through the snow with my girl. When we're both thoroughly soaked and I'm winded from laughing while playing, we head inside to dry. I change my clothes and send a text to Logan, letting him know my plans to see Mom and Bea. I confess to not giving any thought to dinner and he replies with an aghast emoji but then suggests we simply finish the pizza. Agreeing to the plan to meet back at my house, I concede to at least add a salad to the menu, making myself feel like less of a slacker.
Thankful for my own SUV, I make it into town without concerns, and arrive to see Mom and Bea just in time before they congregate for dinner.
“What a pleasant surprise so soon after our visit yesterday,” Bea says. “And it looks like you've gotten yourself in the Christmas spirit.”
“I did indeed.” I show them with the wreaths I made, complete with a removable wall mount. “Logan and I talked about returning on either Christmas Eve or Christmas to spend more time with you two. Do you have a preference on the day?”
I look at Mom, waiting to see if she'll write a response since she already has a pad and pencil in her lap. When she shakes her head and looks at Bea, Logan's mom responds.
“Why don't you and Logan come back on Christmas Eve? That way you two can have Christmas all to yourselves while Dawn and I enjoy the special program they have planned for us here.”
I laugh. “I see what you're doing and you'll be happy to know I'm actually enjoying spending time with your son. In fact, we're having dinner together for the next three nights. You know, doing the whole getting-to-know-you thing. Last night was... well, it was a revelation and you'll be happy to hear we're on the same page.”
“What's there to know other than you're both responsible, mature adults, still well within child-bearing years, and you share the same morals and ethics? Sounds like a perfect match to me, right Dawn?”
Mom smiles as I continue to laugh. “You and your perfect match pitch. We'll let you know if that's the case in a few more days. Why don't I go see about hanging these in your rooms while you two enjoy dinner, and I'll see you Friday. Any requests for anything?”
Both shake their heads.
“Oh, before I go, hold your wreaths and I'll get a photo for Logan.”
Bea scoots close to Mom and they hold up their gifts, Bea smiling a cheesy smile and Mom doing her best. I give them each a hug, take back the wreaths, and go to their rooms. Once they're hung, I head out, making a quick stop at the store for salad fixings. My mind fast-forwards through the evening, wondering if it'll lead to sex. Is that moving too fast? We're both consenting adults with sexual urges. It doesn't have to be anything more than that.
Logan made it sound as if he already knows he wants more. Do I want more? Do I want to start a relationship?
I tamp down on thinking too hard and make a last-minute decision to grab a pack of condoms. Whether or not they get used remains to be seen.
The drive back home goes a little slower since the snow is falling at a good clip, creating a white-out. The temperatures are above freezing for now put the prediction is for icy conditions in the morning.
I'm glad Logan lives close, making it a quick drive home. But then again, I'm not opposed to him spending the night. Doesn't mean sex has to be involved.
I snort to myself knowing damn well if that man stays the night, sex most certainly will happen.
As I pull into my drive, I notice the house already lit up by the security lights. Logan is parked and exiting his vehicle just as I pull into the garage. Logan slips inside before I close the door and approaches the driver's side.
“Hey, great timing,” I say, getting out with my purchases in my hand.
He steps to me as I close the vehicle door. “I was beginning to wonder, thought I might have to call you. Glad you made it home safely.” From inside we hear Stormi barking. “Sounds like I'm not the only one who's glad you're home.”
“Nice to be wanted.”
“Need any help?”
“No, I got it, thanks. Come on in. I'll let Stormi out then get started on the salad.”
We walk inside only to be bombarded by my excited girl.
“Hey, girl,” Logan says. “Let's head outside while your momma gets settled.”
“Thanks, Logan.”
“Not a problem.”
The whole scene is flawless and so domestic, as if we've been operating like this together for some time. I chuckle to myself as he herds Stormi out the back door, leaving me to close the garage, shed some layers, and get dinner ready. Several moments later, Logan's wrestling with her in the mudroom, drying her off, and trying to coax her into behaving.
“You are one frisky girl, aren't ya? Think you can behave a moment to let me get this done, and in return I'll slip you some pizza crust?”
“Bribing my girl, are ya? I'll have you know that's a misdemeanor in this household.”
Logan's kneeling on the floor, looking up at me with a sexy grin. “Hmm, and what would be the punishment, Ms. Deacon?”
“Dishes and a foot rub, Mr. Shaw.”
He finishes with Stormi and she dashes into the kitchen. After hanging up the towel, Logan faces me. “Seems a little steep and you didn't even hesitate. Almost as if you've doled out that sentence before.”
“This lady knows what she wants. And no one else has had the privilege of rubbing my feet. Any more rebuttal and I'll tack on more.”
Stepping closer, he trails a finger down my cheek then tips my chin. “Hmm, and what would more be?”
“Depends on you,” I say, a little breathy.
His brow lifts while his mouth quirks. “I'll work on my rebuttal.”
I start to laugh but it quickly turns into a moan as Logan does that wonderful act of covering my mouth with his for a delicious kiss. We linger, kissing tenderly with playful nips. That is until Stormi decides we're taking too long and yelps at us.
We both chuckle as we look down to see her at our feet.
“You're ruining my groove,” Logan says. “Maybe no crust after all.”
“Not for my girl. It doesn't suit her. I keep her on a fairly strict diet.”
“Aw, poor Stormi. Can't even experience the pleasure of table scraps.”
“Yeah, no.” I link my hand with Logan's and lead us to the kitchen where I've set out all we need for dinner. “Want another root beer or something else?”
“Root beer's fine, thanks.”
We settle at the counter again and dig in.
“So, how was your day?” I ask with a grin.
“Just fine, dear, and yours?”
“Oh, ya know, another day in the life. Made bread, decorated, took wreaths to our moms. Oh, here, let me show you.” I go to my purse, pulling out my phone and bringing up the photo.
A big smile transforms his face, making his eyes shine, and I'm struck by how freaking handsome he is. I can't stop staring, especially when he turns my way.
“What?”
Instead of answering, I lean in to give him a sweet kiss. “You're a remarkable man, Logan Shaw.”
“Yeah?” He grins.
“Yeah.” After another quick peck, which has him grinning bigger, we return our attention to dinner and easy conversation. Even with the pizza, I couldn't help but slice up some of my fresh orange-cranberry bread, eager for Logan to enjoy.
“This is delicious,” he says, making my pride swell a teensy bit.
“Thanks. I've got skills.”
“I just bet you do.”
I laugh. “So, you were going to spill all your secrets?”
“Was I?” He teases.
I nod emphatically. “Like why you were the self-proclaimed town bad boy.”
He wipes his mouth. “I was given the well-deserved title, so might as well own it.” When I simply cock my head and look at him, he continues with his story. “My dad left us when I was fourteen. Just, left. No explanation, no word from him ever again. I didn't understand at the time, didn't know the underlying problems he and Mom had. Well, problems he had, which was cheating on my mom.”
“No!”
“Yeah. He drove truck, was gone a lot. I later learned Mom gave him an ultimatum: get a local job and be a faithful husband or get gone and stay gone. He chose to get gone.”
“Rat bastard,” I mumble. “Sounds like you and your mom were better off.”
“I didn't see it at the time. I wanted my dad back, that male influence. When that didn't happen, I sought it elsewhere. Typical story of falling in with the wrong crowd, an older crowd. Started doing stupid crap like skipping school, under-age drinking, and unknowingly riding in stolen cars and being present during burglaries.” He takes a lengthy drink of his soda then releases a long sigh.
There's much I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut, knowing all that's in the past and he's obviously a better man today. I patiently wait for him to continue.
“Got off with a few warnings but I didn't heed them. So, my ultimatum finally came after I was the one caught actively shoplifting and burglarizing. The police chief was a friend of Mom's and knew our situation. Didn't want me wasting my potential so he told me to shape up and do something with my life or he'd have no problem throwing my ass in jail. I was given the chance to get my GED and decided to join the Marines. Figured if anything could straighten me out, the service could. And it did. Took a while,” he chuckles, “but joining had been the best decision I’d made, and I don't regret a moment. When I was financially able to, I compensated those I wronged with my past mistakes and foolish actions.”
“I did tell you you're a remarkable man, right? Well, now you're stellar.”
I catch a faint blush as he waves off the compliment and veers to another topic, telling me about the birth of his co-worker's first child.
“That's quite the shift in gears, but how sweet. Hope all went well.”
“Not much more to say about myself. I love working with the Sheriff's Department. The job, the people; it's all great. But about Maggie, she and baby are okay, although I was told it wasn't easy. Ended up having a C-section when labor stalled. They'll spend a few more days at the hospital.”
“Did they have a boy or girl?”
“A little girl. Named her Darla. Weighed in at a whopping nine pounds, seven ounces.”
“Oh my goodness, that's a healthy little girl. No wonder labor stalled. I bet she wouldn't have been able to pass through the birth canal at that size.”
Logan just shrugs and takes a bite of pizza.
“Do you want kids or do you think it's too late?” I blurt out, causing Logan to choke on his food. “Oh, crap, sorry.” I'm passing him a napkin which he uses to cover his mouth as he coughs. “Too soon?”
He laughs. Uninhibited. And it makes me laugh.
“Guess I could've eased into that topic with a bit more tact, huh?”
“Probably. But now that it's on the table... I honestly don't know. I thought at one point kids would be in the picture but my wife didn't want them.”
“Wife?” I nearly screech. “You–”
“I was married,” he says, nodding his head. “Was being the key word. We were young, too young, and nowhere near ready for that commitment. Since then, I haven't had a serious relationship. I focused on my time in service then settling back home, seeing to Mom, and starting my new career path.”
“And now? Last night you seemed certain you're ready for a relationship. With me. Why?”
“Why am I ready or why you?”
“Both. I mean, I'm sure you've had opportunities to meet other women. I don't see you doing the whole celibate thing.” Logan chuckles. “Is it because I'm convenient? Because our moms seem determined to get us together?”
“I'll admit I became curious, even enthralled with you through talks with your mom. Seeing you in person only two days ago? Yeah, you made an impression.”
“Pfft, yeah right. Dressed in what could pass as pajamas, rumpled and tired. Your standards must not be very high,” I tease. But Logan's eyes harden a fraction.
“My standards are actually quite high. I'm forty-five, pretty damned experienced with the world and the variety of people in it. I'm too old for games and bullshit but still plenty young enough in my eyes to crave adventure. With a woman who wants the same. No games, no manipulation. Someone independent but also willing to let another into their life. Someone to share good times, lean on in bad times. As for kids... I'll be completely honest and say, no, I don't want to start a family from scratch. While I have no problem with kids themselves, and as much as I'd love to make my mom happy and fulfill her wish for grandchildren, it's not something I see myself doing.”
I nod. “I like your honesty.”
“Most important part of a relationship.” He grins then leans toward me, wrapping his hand gently around the back of my neck, pulling me to him. “As for you? You could've been wearing the proverbial potato sack and I would've thought you beautiful. I know you're intelligent, caring, and responsible. I have an idea you know how to let loose if you could let go of that misplaced notion you haven't repented enough for a mistake that wasn't yours.” He edges closer so that his lips hover within an inch of mine. “Perfection doesn't exist. Imperfection makes life more interesting.”
Then he seals his lips to mine. The kiss isn't soft but it isn't hard, rushed, or demanding. It's somewhere in the middle, and regardless of what he says, it's perfect. I angle myself toward him, tangling my fingers in his hair as I respond to the kiss. Tasting, licking, filling my needy well with this attention. Reciprocating as he groans, deepening the kiss, and practically crawling into his lap.
Yeah, I want this man. And lucky me, he wants me.
Logan breaks the kiss, skimming his lips along my jaw and moving down to suckle my neck. I moan his name and his mouth is back on mine, stealing my breath and kissing me hungrily.
That is until a piercing noise shatters the moment and has me cussing a blue streak. “I swear to God I'm going to have a heart attack around you.”
“Good thing I'm a trained medic. Are you sure you weren't a sailor? With a mouth like that...” He winks as he's pulling out his phone–the device making that dammit-all-to-hell annoying sound. “Shaw.” His face is stoic while he's obviously listening to whoever's on the other end. Then it morphs into anger and I see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth together. “How long ago? Okay. Got it. No time. I've got a pilot sitting in front of me right now.”
My eyes widen when I realize he's talking about me. What the heck is going on?
“See you in ten.” Logan stands as he disconnects the call and pins me with a stare. “Your piloting skills are needed. Is Stormi okay being alone for a while?”
I stand, on alert, as is Stormi when she hears her name. She lets out a bark and I try to calm her. “It's okay, girl, Rest.” I turn to Logan. “What's going on, Logan?”
“We need to hurry. I'll brief you on the way, but we need to leave now. Lives depend on it.”
“What the hell? Where–”
Logan steps right up to me, holding my arms. “Deacon, grab your gear and let's move out.”
His command has the effect he was looking for when I snap to. I know he wouldn't be doing this if it weren't an emergency. I need to trust him. I do trust him. I nod and he releases me, quickly turning for the door. I reassure Stormi once again everything's okay as I rush to the mudroom, grabbing a thick coast, a hat, and gloves before meeting Logan at the front door.
We step out into the night, leaving me to wonder whose life is depending on us.