Shattered (Willow Creek Book 1)

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Shattered (Willow Creek Book 1) Page 3

by A. K. MacBride


  With a shrug, I said, "Caring for a pet is a big responsibility, I already have one of those."

  Logan's face went from playful to expressionless in a second flat. "Yeah, I get that. But having a kid must be kinda awesome too?"

  It might've been my imagination, but I could have sworn I'd heard sadness in his voice. Not one to pry, I just went on as if I hadn't heard a thing. "It's the best," I answered honestly. "There's nothing I wouldn't do for Flynn and not a day with him that I'd trade."

  A soft hum of approval passed over his lips, but he didn't say anything. The silence that followed was a comfortable one. Both of us wrapped up in our own thoughts, and before I knew it, we were parked in Logan's driveway.

  He cut the engine, and I turned to thank him, only to find him studying me. Those soft brown eyes were seemingly staring into the very bottom of my soul, causing my skin to prickle and my pulse to race.

  "Well…uh…thanks for driving me home. Will you let me know what I owe you for the tow?"

  Logan blinked a couple of times as if he was trying to figure out what I'd just said. Shaking his head, he answered, "Don't worry 'bout it, Sugar."

  "Oh no, I don't want a handout-"

  "We'll sort it out tomorrow, okay?" Logan interrupted. "I'm sure your little boy can't wait to see his momma." His dark head jerked toward the groceries in the back. "Can I help you carry these?"

  I must have looked like an idiot because I just stared at him. I couldn't decide if I found his bossiness infuriating or sexy. A realization that I needed to say something dawned. "No, thank you. I'll manage." With that, I hopped out of the cab and opened the back door to retrieve my shopping bag.

  When I turned, I found myself face to chest with Logan. His big hands came up and covered mine holding the groceries. "Let me take this in for you." He tugged at the bag, but I dug my fingers in and pulled it closer to my chest.

  "I said, I'll do it." My voice came out clipped but not because I was angry. The simple feeling of his palms resting against my hands was wreaking havoc inside my body. Reacting this strongly toward him, with just a simple touch, was utterly terrifying.

  As if he knew my thoughts, Logan lifted his hands off mine, palms facing me. "Alright. You let me know if you need anything."

  What I needed was to be alone for a couple of minutes to work this out of my system. With a brusque nod, I pushed past him and headed for my house. With every step I took, I felt his relentless, penetrating gaze on me.

  "Is there something you want to tell me?"

  Startled, I almost dropped the bag I was clutching to my chest and turned away from the closed door to find my friend staring at me, hands on her hips and a smile on her face. "Geez, Lizzy, you can't sneak up on me like that." Not waiting for an answer, I headed for the kitchen to unpack the groceries and start dinner.

  Footsteps sounded behind me. Instead of hearing Lizzy's voice, Flynn's little voice greeted me. "Mommy!" Seconds after his squeal, I felt his tiny arms wrap around my legs from behind. After setting the goods on the counter, I turned and hauled my son into my arms.

  "And how was your day, baby?" I pressed my lips to his forehead and breathed him in. My heart swelling more and more with each inhalation.

  "Aunty Zelda gave us pictures to color, and I colored inside the lines, Mommy!" His face beamed and his blue eyes sparkled.

  "You colored inside the lines? Wow, my big, big boy. You gotta stop growing up so fast."

  Flynn's blonde head swished side to side. "Nah uh, I wanna grow up and be big and strong."

  With a shake of my head, I set my boy down and pressed my lips to the top of his head. "Go play. Mommy will call you when dinner is done." With that familiar squeeze at my heart, I watched Flynn race out of the kitchen at the same time as Lizzy entered. That know-it-all smirk still planted on her face.

  "So?"

  I gave Lizzy my back and started unpacking the groceries. "So what?"

  A very unladylike snort sounded from Lizzy followed by, "Really, Harper? Why were you in Logan Jackson's truck? Did you finally decide to saddle up the horse?"

  With my back still to Lizzy, I answered, "That piece of scrap I used to call my car wouldn't start. Logan just happened to be there and offered his help. There was no saddling of any horses involved."

  "Yeah right."

  Spinning on my heels and planting my hands on my hips, I glared at my friend. "What's that about?"

  Without a care in the world, Lizzy strode to the fridge and pulled out two beers. After opening them both, she handed one to me. "I've seen the way you look at him when you think no one notices, but most importantly, I've seen the way he looks at you. Well, me and everyone else in this town."

  Bringing the cold bottle to my lips; I turned my head toward the window, looking out over the backyard where Flynn was on his swing. "Me and him? It's a bad idea."

  "Why?"

  My attention shifted back to Lizzy. "Flynn for starters. I don't want people coming in and out of his life. It will just confuse him."

  With a look of contemplation Lizzy steadily approached me. "No one said anything about long term. What I'm suggesting is having him take care of your needs. I'm pretty sure Logan's not the serious type anyway. The whole world doesn't need to know, not even Flynn."

  I didn't answer. Instead, I brought the bottle to my lips again and took a long guzzle. What Lizzy didn't know was that the last man that'd made my pulse race and my tummy flutter was also the man that used my body as his punching bag. So, it actually didn't matter what needs I might want tended to; my mind was smart enough to know not to listen.

  "I gotta go. Dawn and Jack can't handle the diner by themselves."

  "What? I thought you were staying for dinner?"

  "If you have enough food for an extra person, why don't you invite Mr. Mechanic over to thank him for assisting you today?"

  Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Flynn's voice sounded from the open door. "Who is Mr. Mechanic?"

  Lizzy and I answered at the same time.

  "It's no one, baby."

  "Your neighbor."

  Flynn's face lit up, and his eyes grew big. "Aw, awesome. Logan has the coolest bike. Is he coming for dinner, Mommy?"

  I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes at Lizzy. "What are you doing?"

  Lizzy just winked, and with a wide smile, she said, "I'm helping you. You'll thank me one day." Then she turned and bent over, so she was eye level with Flynn. "Your mommy was just telling me that she was going to go next door to invite him over."

  "Mommy, when Logan comes can I show him my superhero collection?" Flynn stared at me with those big eyes of his filled with so much excitement. Maybe having Logan over for dinner wouldn't be such a bad thing. One meal didn't mean I was going to strip him naked and have my way with him.

  Unfortunately.

  "Sure, baby. But let me first go find out if he doesn't already have plans for the night, okay?" With my attention back on Lizzy, I asked, "Can you watch him for five minutes?"

  "No problem." Lizzy's answer came with too much cheeriness and a way-too-smug smile.

  As I approached Logan's front door, my palms became damp, and nervousness flooded my chest. Scanning my surroundings as I went, I took note of how neat everything looked. Perfectly manicured lawn with pops of color here and there, a large swing-chair on his porch flanked by two off-white wooden deck chairs and then his big black door—that looked perfect in the midst of the open-faced brick walls.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I brought my hand up to knock but paused mid-way. This was a terrible idea. I'd always managed to stay one step ahead of Drew because I kept a low profile everywhere I went.

  Just as I turned to leave, the door swung open. "What took you so-" Logan paused mid-sentence, and my jaw fell to my feet. How could it not with him standing there in nothing but tattoos and a low-slung towel on his hips? "Shit, I heard a noise and thought it was Brett."

  Common sense told me that I had to say something, but the words w
ouldn't come. With all those muscles and deep v-line on display, the man had managed to strike me stupid.

  "Was there something you needed, Sugar?"

  Tearing my eyes away from his naked torso proved to be a difficult task. But when I looked at his face and noticed his dripping wet hair playing peek-a-boo with his eyes, I wished I was staring at his chest again instead. There was just something in his eyes that had goosebumps popping up all over my skin.

  Hardly managing a nod, I croaked out, "Right. Uh…I want you…" In my defense, I did say that he'd struck me stupid. "Uhm…I wanted to thank you for helping me today and we—Flynn and me—were wondering if you wanted to have dinner with us. Nothing fancy, just pasta and meatballs-" I stopped talking and bit down on my teeth. I'd never been a rambler and yet here I was… rambling.

  Logan's gaze slipped from mine and rested on my lips for a few seconds before snapping back. "I could eat."

  There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes when he spoke to me. It had my already unsteady nerves hanging on by a thread. So much so that I needed to take a step back.

  "So…why don't you get all that-" with my index finger I motioned to his bare chest. "-covered up and come on over when you're ready." I didn't dare wait for a reply, just spun around and got the hell out of there as fast as my feet would carry me.

  Pushing past Lizzy, without saying a word, I hurried to my bathroom and leaned back against the closed door.

  Staring at the ceiling, I whispered, "What are you doing, Harper?"

  Nothing could have prepared me for what'd just happened. I shut the front door and then took a moment to process. If I'd known helping Harper out of a jam would land me a dinner invitation, I would have sabotaged that piece of junk she'd been driving instead of waiting for fate to do something.

  Feeling pretty damn good, I pushed off the door and walked to my bedroom with an extra bounce in my step. Deciding what to wear wasn't all that hard—I only owned jeans and tees. I was almost tempted into spending extra time on my appearance, but that wasn't me. I wanted Harper to be interested in me for who I was, not someone I pretended to be.

  Happy with my selection of dark-washed jeans and a gray tee, I retraced my steps back to the front door, reminding myself not to come on too strong. This was the opening I'd been hoping for, and I didn't want to waste it. As I entered Harper's yard through the little wooden gate, I spotted Lizzy hopping down the porch steps. The moment she noticed me, a mischievous grin spread across her face.

  "You have a nice evening, now," Lizzy said in lieu of greeting as she passed me.

  "Uh… thanks… I think," My reply was given to her back, and I could have sworn I heard her giggle too. Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to the path in front of me. The breath got knocked right out of my lungs when I caught sight of Harper standing inside her open door.

  She'd changed from her work attire—jeans and a khaki button-down—into a pair of tights and a long, loose-fitting shirt. Her hair was still bunched up on top of her head. As usual, I imagined what she'd look like with it tumbling over her shoulders. I'd never seen her with her hair down, ever. Maybe that was why my fingers always itched to free her tresses from the confines of that knot.

  "Two things," Harper said by way of greeting when I reached her at the door. There was no make-up to mar her creamy skin, and the scent of daisies enveloped me. I just managed not to close my eyes and inhale deeply.

  "Flynn is not used to men coming around," she continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "He is overly excited that you'll be joining us. So, please, bear with him." I nodded and opened my mouth to speak when Harper shook her head and pointed her index finger skyward. "I won't tolerate any bad language in front of my son."

  I couldn't help the grin that spread across my face. "Got it."

  Her dark head bobbed a little as she nodded tentatively; her nervous energy filled the space between us. Her brows furrowed, and I got the feeling that she'd suddenly changed her mind about dinner. Just as she opened her mouth, little Flynn appeared by her side.

  "Logan!" Disheveled white locks and a goofy grin greeted me.

  I dropped to my haunches in front of the tiny human and held my hand out, palm facing Flynn. "Hey, little man. Gimme five."

  Flynn reached high and then smacked my palm with as much force as a five-year-old could muster.

  "You wanna see my superhero collection? I have-"

  "Slow down, baby." Harper's hand gently squeezed the little boy's shoulder. "Let Logan come in and get settled first. Remember what I told you?"

  Flynn's slim shoulders slumped, and his little head nodded. He dropped his head in childlike-disappointment and said, "Yes mommy." Then he turned and ran back into the house. I watched him disappear before glancing up to find Harper observing me.

  Our gazes locked and held while I straightened to my full height. Try as I might, I couldn't figure out what was going on in that head of hers. Harper squinted slightly as if trying to solve some cryptic puzzle and then tilted her head in the direction of the house.

  "You should come in."

  "That'd be nice."

  Without another word Harper turned and strolled inside with me short on her heels. That homey-feeling I always got when I stepped into my momma's house, hit me the moment my foot crossed the threshold.

  Some of Flynn's toys were scattered on the thick chocolate rug in the living room. The mint green couches weren't new or modern, but they didn't subtract from the aesthetic feel. As we made our way to the kitchen, I noticed that there were plenty of photographs of just Harper and Flynn, but not one of Flynn's daddy.

  I had never been one to lend out my ears, but, if the rumor mill was to be believed, Harper was a widow. While I continued to scan my surroundings, I couldn't help but wonder about the man.

  "Beer?" Harper's voice drew me back to the present. She was standing in front of the fridge with one hand on the handle. Deftly, I let my gaze sweep over the marbled gray counters where I spotted a half-full bottle of beer.

  "Beer's good, thanks."

  Harper pulled an ice-cold beer from the fridge, opened it and handed it to me. Before I brought the bottle to my lips, I tipped it in the direction of the stacked ingredients on the counter next to the stove. "Anything I can help with?"

  My question was met with a raised eyebrow. "You cook?"

  My lips curled into a grin. "Sugar," I said lifting my free hand up and wiggling my fingers. "There ain't nothing that these hands can't do."

  A small smile spread across Harper's face, and it almost stopped my heart. "We'll see." Bringing the bottle to my lips for a long swallow, I kept my eyes on Harper as she gathered a few items and then stalked toward me.

  "You can help by chopping these," she told me as she dropped an onion, two tomatoes, and a pepper on the counter next to me.

  I winked while saluting her with my beer. "Yes, ma'am."

  While I chopped the ingredients for the sauce, Harper worked on preparing the meatballs. Seeing as the meat in the bowl held her attention, I figured it was the most opportune time to learn more about her.

  "Why Willow Creek?"

  Those deep green eyes of hers, filled with apprehension, rose to meet mine. "What?"

  "You moved here without knowing a soul or having a job," I said, stating the obvious. "I'm curious: why did you choose Willow Creek?"

  Harper studied me for a long moment. I got the impression that she didn't want to answer my question. But then her shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug, and she spoke. "There's no real reason. I just opened a map, picked a place and we moved."

  To many people that would seem so random. But to me, it sounded a lot like running. Heaven knows how many times I'd wanted to do the same thing. Especially after the accident. Forcing my thoughts away from that dark pit, I voiced the one question I'd been curious about since stepping foot inside her house. "And Flynn's daddy? Where's he?"

  That question earned me a sharp look and an even sharper answer. "He's not in
the picture." Obviously realizing she'd been short with me, Harper shook her head and apologized. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. It's just…" her gaze drifted to the archway leading into the hallway for a few seconds before landing on me again. "We…I don't talk too much about him. Flynn has questions, and I answer as best I can, but it doesn't change the fact he's never going to know his father."

  My heart twisted a little. I couldn't even imagine a life without my dad. As no-nonsense as Charles Jackson had been, there wasn't a day that either me or my brothers didn't know we were loved. In fact, if it hadn't been for my dad, my life would have been very different and not a good different.

  "I'm sorry for your loss." It was a stupid thing to say, but I didn't know what else to say to a woman who'd lost her husband. Afraid that I might put my foot in it again, I grabbed my half-empty beer and almost swallowed it all in one go.

  "I didn't say he was dead."

  I didn't mean to, I intended to swallow the liquid in my mouth, but that wasn't what happened. It wasn't even her statement; it was the way she'd said it that had all the beer spraying out of my mouth and soaking into my beard. Putting down the beer and cleaning up the mess I'd just made would have been the right thing to do. With all the questions floating around in my head, I couldn't stop staring.

  Harper was the one to move and find a mop. After throwing me a dish towel, to clean myself up with, she went about mopping the floor. I tried to take the wooden handle out of her hands, but the moment my hand closed over hers, the air between us shifted.

  I might as well have had a live wire pressed to my palm; it was all I could do not to jerk my hand away. Her gaze dropped to our connected hands before slowly lifting to mine. It was in that moment that I realized I affected her as much as she affected me. Instead of pulling my hand away, I curled my fingers tighter around hers and tugged.

  "Logan."

  My name came out as both a warning and a plea. And I imagined a very different scenario where she was saying my name like that. I didn't have time to react though. Little Flynn chose that exact moment to come charging into the kitchen.

 

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