by Karr, Kim
Her fingers were gripping the sheets so tightly that I could see the material pulling. I placed a hand on her shoulder. “Elle, wake up,” I whispered.
She sat up.
Confused.
Exhausted.
Vulnerable.
My head spun a little bit and I realized I’d been holding my breath. Dumb ass. What the fuck was wrong with me? I had to man up.
She looked at me and seemed to blink everything into focus. Then her eyes darted to Clementine.
“She’s fine,” I whispered reassuringly.
Elle was shaking, her body still experiencing the trauma of the nightmare even though she was fully awake. “What’s going on? Why are you in here?” she asked frantically.
The covers were tangled and tossed to the side. I pulled them up and sat beside her. “Elle, talk to me. What were you dreaming about?”
She shook her head.
“Who do you want to go away? Did someone hurt you?” My voice was unbelievably calm considering the thumping of my pulse in my throat.
Her eyes bore into mine, searching.
Something inside me said, Fuck reason. She needed someone. It wasn’t her fault it was me that was here. That’s when I did it. I moved closer to her. But that wasn’t enough to relax the taut muscles and scared look on her face. To try to help, I pushed her hair from her eyes so she could see me. “It’s okay. Tell me,” I said, my voice low.
Elle took a deep breath and blew it out. “She left me alone with him. She knew what he was like and she left me alone with him. That’s why I hated her.”
My brain started to spasm at what exactly that meant. “Who, Elle?”
“Lizzy. My sister. She left me alone with him. Right after my mother died, my sister came to my hospital room and told me she had to leave.”
I already knew who she was talking about, so I clarified, “She left you alone with your father.”
She nodded.
I struggled to speak as my stomach knotted. It felt like I had balls of rubber bands in there and they were bouncing from side to side. “Did he hurt you? Is that why you were in the hospital?”
Elle shook her head. “I begged her to stay. When I knew she wasn’t going to, I blamed her for what had happened. I knew it wasn’t her fault. But then she told me she’d send for me when she got her life settled and I lost it. I told her not to bother. I never wanted to see her again, and then I took off the bracelet she had given me and threw it at her like it never mattered. It mattered. It did matter. I told her if she walked out that door, never to contact me. Why would I do that?”
I pulled her to me and tried to soothe her. “Shhh . . . Elle, we all say and do things sometimes that we regret. I’m sure your sister knows that.”
Her tears were spilling down my bare chest as she shook her head. “No, she didn’t. If she did, why did she wait until she was in trouble to contact me?”
I had no response for her, but I was compelled to lie down and pull her to me. Stroking her back, I kissed her head and tried to ease her pain. I didn’t know exactly what had happened but whatever it was, it had impacted her life. And I felt somewhat to blame for invoking those memories. I shouldn’t have questioned her about her parents last night when the vibe was clear from the start that her relationship with them was fragile.
Her breathing started to settle and she flung her arm across my chest and held on to me.
A panic started to rise in me and I considered jumping up.
That would be the biggest asshole move I could ever make.
At least I knew that.
I talked myself off the ledge. It was okay. She needed me. I could be there for her. It didn’t have to mean anything else.
Did it?
Fuck.
I had to admit it.
The truth was, no matter how much I tried to distance myself from her, physically or emotionally, she was already in me.
It was too late.
No amount of space was going to stop what I was feeling.
I was fucked.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
DAY 3
ELLE
Clementine cooed in the early morning light.
I panicked, wondering if Logan was still in bed with me.
Uncertain, I opened my eyes and peeked.
He wasn’t.
I should have been relieved, but I wasn’t sure I was. Logan was messing with my mind. I’d never met anyone like him. He radiated sex appeal but could turn it off in the blink of an eye. I shouldn’t have cared—but I did. He’d opened something in my mind that had me thinking that way. He turned me on. He’d awakened something in my body that had me wanting him. That worried me.
Clementine was still babbling and I rolled over to see her cute little face staring at me through the rails of her crib. She was a good sleeper, but as soon as the sun came up, so did she.
Forcing myself out of bed, I took the few steps toward her. “Good morning, silly girl. You ready to get up?”
“Up,” she said, the strange environment not bothering her in the least.
I smiled at her. She was so easygoing. She was also parroting back more and more words. When I reached for her, she let out a loud cackle.
“She’s happy in the morning.” His voice was smooth like honey and made me shiver.
I turned with her in my arms to see Logan leaning against the doorframe with a cup of coffee in each hand. My pulse quickened at the mere sight of him. He was showered and dressed in another pair of black cargo pants and a long-sleeved white T-shirt. He looked rakishly rogue. My hands itched to glide under his clothes and touch his naked body. Such an odd feeling. His hair was still slightly damp and I remembered how soft it felt under my fingertips. I wanted to feel it again. He’d shaved, but I’d never forget how good his stubble felt against my skin. Really good.
Clementine reached for him and my heart fluttered.
She found him irresistible too.
Shaking the feeling off, I gave a slight laugh and told him, “I think she likes you.”
Logan strode my way with the swagger back in his step that had been missing last night when he left me in the bathroom. “You think?”
I reached for the cup of coffee he offered me. “You’re afraid of her.” It wasn’t a question. “You don’t have to be.”
He sipped from his cup. “I wouldn’t say I was afraid. It’s just that I’ve never been around babies.”
“I see.” I looked up and right into his eyes.
Out of nowhere, his lips pressed to mine.
The kiss he gave me was unexpected. It was sweet. I liked it. Clementine seemed to like it too, because she grabbed for his lips.
Shock tore through him and I had to laugh again as she twisted her fingers in his mouth.
Logan gently pulled them away. “She probably shouldn’t do that.” He wrinkled his nose. “You know, germs and all.”
I chewed on my lip to stop from laughing. There were two ways to look at it, after all, and I didn’t want to tell him but I was certain worse things had been in her hands.
He pointed his finger at me. “Don’t say it,” he said, grinning.
With a shrug, I set my coffee down and walked into the bathroom to grab the diaper bag.
“Does Clementine eat regular food?” he asked. “I ordered eggs, pancakes, and toast.”
I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes, she does. Let me change her and we’ll be right out.”
He nodded. “There’s a whole pot of hot coffee, too.”
I smiled at him. He smiled back. When I turned around with Clementine on my hip, he had just reached the door.
His smile widened when we appeared back in the bedroom and he gave a slight wave before walking out. It might have been for Clementine, but I returned it.
I don’t know why.
He slid his tongue around his lips in a heated response.
And my heart skipped a beat.
Logan disappeared into the next room and I set the baby do
wn, all the while my pulse aflutter. Before I changed her, I took a few deep breaths and then sipped on my coffee to try to calm it down.
What was this thing between us?
I wasn’t about to overanalyze it, but I knew we needed to eventually talk about it. Something was causing him to war with his emotions, and he should know that he didn’t have to worry about me.
I wasn’t looking to attach myself to him.
I wasn’t looking to attach myself to anyone.
Once I’d changed Clementine, I decided to at least brush my teeth, but then I looked at myself and thought a comb would be a good idea too.
The mirror had a crack down the center and I wondered what had happened, but not for long as Clementine led the way into the living room. I had her bag, which contained her sippy cup, the fail-safe Cheerios, and her toys, so she was all set.
Logan was sitting on the couch with what I could only call “old school” Vans up on the table, reading something on his phone. A cart of overflowing food was next to him, along with one of the small cartons of milk he had ordered last night.
He peered up at me.
With his eyes on me, I poured the milk into the cup and made Clementine a plate. I didn’t have a high chair, so I set everything on the coffee table and let her pick at her food while she played. I knew it wasn’t ideal, but it worked and it made her happy.
Once she was settled, I poured myself a hot cup of coffee and added some cream, then took a piece of toast and went to sit on the chair.
Logan patted the seat next to him. “Sit here.”
I shrugged casually, surprised but not. Hot and cold seemed to be the beat in which he breathed. “Okay.”
After I sat, he pulled his feet from the table and leaned forward, turning his head to see me. “So here’s the thing, I’m not really good at anything when it comes to women except fucking.”
I practically spit my coffee out. “That was . . . honest.”
His eyes caught mine and trapped me. Hazel irises that looked more green than brown today had so much more to say than what he had just said.
There was something in them, something that made him the way he was.
I wasn’t one to judge.
The napkin was close and I wiped my mouth. “Logan, I’m attracted to you, and I think I can safely say you’re attracted to me.”
I heard the smile in his voice. “That’s an accurate assumption.”
My words came out very matter-of-factly. “We fucked. If we fuck again, I wouldn’t mind it and if we don’t, that’s life.”
Logan’s gaze darted toward Clementine. “Should we be saying fuck?” He’d lowered his voice to a whisper.
I looked at her happily busying herself transferring the pancake squares I’d put on her plate to the table and then whispered, “Probably not.”
He leaned close to me. “You didn’t let me finish.”
Was he dismissing what I’d just said?
“There’s more to it than that,” he continued.
I put my finger on his lips. “There always is. Thank you for comforting me last night. I’m sorry I lost it on you. There’s just so much going on right now, I’m having a hard time keeping my emotions in check.”
He opened his mouth and licked my finger. “You haven’t mentioned the shower.”
Heat crept up my cheeks from his words.
I was really getting tired of my schoolgirl reaction.
Logan glanced over at Clementine, who was now sitting on the floor with her toys, not paying any attention to us, and crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was short this time but it was rough, sensual, and took my breath away.
I gasped, as that strange feeling coursed its way through me.
“In case you needed reminding,” he added.
I took a few deep breaths and cursed the desire that was running through my veins. No, I certainly didn’t need reminding. I needed more. And now was so not the time to get all hot and bothered. The question was—would there be another? I looked at him. “Has anyone ever told you, Logan McPherson, you’re a contradiction of emotions?”
His expression fell. “More than once.”
Confused by not only my own emotions, but also his, I nodded. “Well, at least we’re on the same page,” I said, and then I stood up. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”
His eyes darted to mine and the heat that I saw in them was almost volcanic. “Yeah, sure,” he managed to say through a voice full of gravel.
His mind was right where mine was—somewhere it couldn’t be right now.
With one hand on my back, I bent to scoop up Clementine.
“You can leave her here. She seems perfectly content playing in between bites of food.”
I looked at him. “You sure?”
“We’ll be fine.” He looked up at me. “And there’s some Advil in my bag on the bathroom vanity if you need one.”
I headed for the bedroom. “Okay. I’ll be quick.”
“Hey,” he called.
I glanced over my shoulder.
“It will happen again.”
For a moment, I was confused.
But then what he meant clicked at the same time he mouthed, “The fucking.”
Shivers ran up my spine as arousal flooded me even more. If the words were meant to be a promise, I found myself looking forward to it. This man was complex and yet I felt I understood him. I didn’t know what drove him, but I knew the multitude of emotions behind his reactions were complicated for a reason. Defense mechanisms of some sort was my guess. I think I got him because he was a lot like me.
As soon as I entered the bathroom, memories from last night, his hands on me, his cock inside me, the way he moved, were everywhere. Once the water was hot and steamy, I stepped in and palmed the bar of soap I knew he had rubbed over his skin. I did it until it lathered and then I smoothed it all over me.
It was odd.
I was certain that we would fuck again, too, but everything else in my life held a chilling uncertainty. The words I had spoken to him were true, though. I wanted to be with him again, but that was all there was to it. I was damaged goods. My father so much as told me that the first time he saw me in the hospital after the surgeries. He had said, “I told you not to do this, Gabrielle. No man will want you now.” I think he might have even had a tear in his eye. It was the only one I ever saw him shed, although I did hear him crying many nights after my mother’s death.
In his own way, he truly believed what he had told me to be true. At the time, I hadn’t believed him, but years later his words rang true with Charlie.
The water cascaded over me and I turned my face into the spray. Once I rinsed all the soap away, I quickly toweled dry and dressed in the running clothes I had thrown in my bag yesterday when I thought I’d be staying at Michael’s. My plan was to get up early and run in the park, but that was before I knew I’d have Clementine with me.
I brushed my hair and pulled it back in a ponytail, then decided the Advil was probably a good idea.
The black toiletry bag sat on the vanity and I opened it. The bottle of Advil was right beside a partially empty box of condoms. An odd wave of jealousy hit me from out of nowhere. That was one emotion I’d never had to deal with.
Where was this coming from?
Logan’s words whispered in my head—“I’m not really good at anything when it comes to women except fucking”—and my fists clenched at my sides. The thought of him with someone else was something I couldn’t think about, whether it was before or after me.
Those kinds of feelings weren’t healthy. Not for me. Not for him. Not for us.
I swallowed the pill in one gulp and turned the bathroom light off. Out of sight, out of mind.
Sunlight gleamed through the bedroom window in abundance. Maybe spring was making an appearance today. I grabbed my phone to check the weather and saw I had a text from Michael telling me he’d be back late afternoon and that he would be stuck in mediation all day. I texted back that Cle
mentine was fine and we’d see him later, and then pulled up the weather app. With the prediction of a sunny, 60-degree-high day, I decided it was a perfect day for a walk in the park.
The living room was quiet and as soon as I walked in, I knew why.
Logan was hovering near Clementine with his shirt pulled up to his nose, exposing those washboard abs I had run my fingers over last night.
I wet my lips at the sight.
It took me a moment to find her, but Clementine was hiding behind one of the chairs, making the noises that I knew only too well.
A soft giggle escaped my throat and caused him to glance up from his vigilance over her.
The look on his face was one of sheer horror. “I don’t understand it. How does something so small smell that vile?”
Laughter rolled through me as I waved him away from her. “She likes to poop in private.”
He raised his hands in defeat. “No problem by me.”
Leaving her alone to let her finish, I started to gather our things.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Packing up. It’s time for us to go.”
“Elle.”
My gaze shot to him at the sound of my name. I liked the way he said it.
“O’Shea back?”
“No, he texted me that he’d be home late afternoon.”
Logan crossed the room. “I don’t want you going back to his house until he returns.”
Goose bumps rose on my arms under my fleece. “Logan, this has to stop. All of this talk is making me paranoid.”
The most serious hazel eyes stared back at me. “It’s not paranoid if you are in trouble. Your sister, and now Michael, got into bed with the Mob and didn’t deliver. Patrick doesn’t tolerate fuck-ups for any reason. I don’t know the specifics, but there’s a reason O’Shea is still alive, and the only reason I can think of is that it has to do with a shitload of cash flow. And once Patrick secures that pipeline, who the fuck knows what he’s going to do.”
I looked automatically toward Clementine, suddenly fearing for her safety. “Patrick is the Mob boss?” I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation. “The same Mob your grandfather once headed?” I accused.