"I'm screwed up?" Eli was starting to get worked up too. He unfolded his arms and pushed off the wall. "When was the last time you looked in the mirror? I'm not the one with issues here. And it's because of those issues that you are too blind to see that that woman is taking you for one hell of a ride."
It happened so fast. One moment Eli was talking smack and the next my fist connected with his jaw.
"Hey!" I heard momma yell. "I did not raise a bunch of disrespectful hooligans. There is a little girl in here." It was only when momma mentioned her that I saw Molly, her frightened eyes bouncing between her father and me.
As I glared at Eli, who was rubbing his jaw, I couldn't bring myself to apologize to him. He deserved it but Molly didn't deserve to see it. Dropping to my knees, I took her small hands in mine.
"I'm sorry you had to see that, Molls." I gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and then apologized to my mom for not being able to stay for dinner. Just as I grabbed my helmet off the bike seat I heard footsteps behind me.
If Eli was ready for an ass whooping, I was more than happy to oblige. Ripe for a fight I spun on my heel to find my dad there.
"Sorry, Pop. I gotta go."
Dad ran his palm over his gray beard and regarded me for a second. "He is fighting his own battle, I know it's not an excuse-"
"No, Pop, it isn't. Do you even know what he accused Harper of in there?" Just thinking about it had my blood boiling again. "How dare he? He doesn't even know her."
"Neither do you, son." Dad's words were laced with caution.
I shook my head. "Maybe I don't know her story, maybe I never will." I pulled my shoulders up in a shrug. "But, Pop, everything I need to know is right there when I look at her or when I touch her." I took a deep breath and then said, "She's in my bones."
When I woke up on Saturday morning smiling, I knew Logan had something to do with it. After a quick shower, brushing my teeth and donning sweats and a tee, I walked to the mirror to pull my hair into its usual knot but paused halfway through.
I started wearing it up after I'd left Drew; he liked to use my long strands as a lever—dragging me through the house by it. So, tying it up in a knot was my way of being defiant without having to cut it all off.
Today, though, I wanted it loose. I wanted my hair to be as free as I felt. Instead of knotting it, I pulled the brush through a few times and let my mane do its thing. On my way to the kitchen, I popped my head into Flynn's room; all that was peeking out from beneath the covers were his unruly blonde strands.
I figured I had another hour before he woke up so I went to make some coffee and decided to have it on the porch. Calm and at peace that was how I'd describe my mood when I opened my door.
That all changed the moment I looked down. Right there on my welcome mat was a single dead tulip. The coffee I was holding dropped to the ground, tarry liquid and shattered pieces of glass going everywhere, but my focus stayed on the lonely flower. If it had been any other flower, I wouldn't have cared.
But tulips?
As pretty as they were, I hated them. Whenever Drew became violent or verbally abusive, he'd apologize with tulips. At one point every single room in our house held a bunch or two.
On shaky legs, I bent down to pick up—and dispose of—the horrendous reminder of days I longed to forget. An uneasy feeling took hold of me as I straightened. It felt almost as if I were being watched.
Careful not to step on any of the broken pieces at my feet I made my way down the porch, all the while scanning my surroundings. As far as small towns went Willow Creek was safe that's not to say it didn't have its problems or that it was crime free.
As I sank my feet into the grass, I still was unable to shake the feeling that I was being scrutinized. Slowly I made my way to the gate, my heart thundering louder and louder with every step I took.
Except for a few birds singing their happy morning songs, all was quiet. With my hands planted on my gate, I took one more look down the street, just to assuage myself. It didn't matter how long or hard I looked, it was still just me, the birds, Mrs. Jenson on her porch and my overactive imagination awake that early.
Shaking my head, I turned to head back inside but ended up staring at Logan's house. Was he in there? I contemplated phoning him and inviting him over for breakfast but then decided against it.
After I'd cleaned up the porch and made a new cup of coffee I got started on Flynn's favorite breakfast—chocolate chip pancakes. Just as I ladled the first dollop into the pan, my little man came wobbling into the kitchen.
"Hey baby," I greeted him. "Did you have a good sleep?"
Flynn's small face twisted into a frown as he shook his head. Concerned, I pulled the pan off the stove and dropped to my knees in front of him. "Did you have a bad dream?"
His little lip trembled slightly while he nodded his head. "Wanna tell mommy about it?"
There was a long pause, and I thought he was going to clam up like he always did when he had a nightmare. Only he didn't. "There was a bad man and he came and took me from you and I couldn't find you."
"It was just a dream, baby. I'll never leave you," I told him—and myself—as I pulled him into my chest and just held him. A heavy uneasiness settled in my heart and I tried not to read too much into the damn flower or Flynn's nightmare.
By late afternoon the morning's events were pushed to the back of my mind. I'd made sure that Flynn and I kept plenty busy and every opportunity I got I made sure to reassure him that his mommy wasn't going anywhere—not if it was up to me, anyway.
As much as I loved my son I welcomed the silence that followed after he fell asleep. I'd just put him in bed and silenced the cartoons when a knock sounded. That uneasy feeling I tried to ignore all day long, made its presence known again.
Scolding myself for my silliness I walked over to the door and checked the peephole. I was smiling before I opened up to reveal Logan and Dozer standing on my porch. As much as I didn't want to admit it, him there was precisely what I needed.
"I hope you don't mind," Logan said in lieu of a greeting. "But instead of calling, I thought I'd drop by and cook for you and the little man."
"And if I minded?" Still smiling at him, I folded my arms and leaned my shoulder against the doorframe.
Logan took a few seconds to think his answer over and eventually came up with, "Well then, Sugar, I'd have to find some creative way to make you change your mind." As if that sentence didn't already have my insides melting he had to go and pair it with that full-on smile of his.
We locked eyes and I knew that he knew he had me. But instead of showing him how right he was, I shrugged my shoulders and took a step back. "I guess you'd better come in then."
When he walked past me I took a deep breath, taking that uniquely Logan scent straight to my lungs and then I crouched to greet his over-excited pup. Scratching behind the dog's ears, I looked up at Logan.
"I can't believe how well he has adapted. Usually, strays take their time warming up to people and even longer to trust them. But this one looks like he'll follow you to the ends of the earth."
Logan ran his palm over the back of his neck and then casually lifted his shoulder. "Maybe we're just kindred spirits?"
I felt the frown form on my forehead as I tried to make sense of what he'd just said. I didn't get very far though because Dozer chose that moment to rain doggy-kisses down on me. My butt made contact with the hard floor as I fell backward, my laughter bubbling up of its own accord.
Just as I couldn't take anymore Logan pulled the pup off of me—much like he had a few weeks ago. "Whoa there, buddy. I should be kissing the pretty lady, not you." Still holding onto Dozer Logan turned his attention to me, "I'm gonna let him loose in your backyard, that okay with you?"
I nodded my head and took my time getting to my feet when he disappeared to let the dog out. I spotted his discarded bag and decided to take it to the kitchen. I set it down on the counter just as he closed the back door behind him.
"So what are you pl
anning on feeding us?"
Logan grinned as he ambled toward me, "Pizza, but I lied. I'm not making it."
I scrunched up my nose and waited until he stopped next to me. "You're not?"
"Nope," he pulled the bag to him and started unpacking it. "We are. All three of us. I thought it would be fun for Flynn to help knead the dough."
Somebody help me.
My heart and everything else just melted into a puddle at this man's feet. I dared not to show him, though. With a quick 'That's a great idea' I turned to the fridge and pulled out two beers. After handing him one, I swallowed down almost half mine in one go.
"Thirsty?"
I looked over to find him studying me with amusement. "Mmm hmm," was all I could manage because apparently, my brain was a bit slow to respond again.
"Logan!" Flynn's cheery voice saved me from what might've turned into an embarrassing moment.
"Hey, buddy."
Logan abandoned his beer in favor of giving Flynn a high-five and questioning him about his day. I was silent as I witnessed the interaction between them, quickly realizing that it was too late for Flynn not to get attached.
It was evident in the way his face lit up that he already thought the man hung the moon. I was treading very dangerous waters here, and I just hoped and prayed that my little boy's heart wouldn't break when we eventually moved on.
Because we would be moving on.
I wasn't looking to start a family and put down roots, I couldn't afford to. Not as long as Drew was still out there looking for me.
"Aw, cool." Flynn's overjoyed squeal brought my attention back to the present. Burying the gloomy thoughts, I forced a smile and asked Flynn, "And what's so cool."
I was rewarded with the biggest toothy smile before he answered, "Logan brought some superhero movies and ice cream for after dinner." Childlike excitement burning bright in his blue eyes.
"Did he now?" Instead of addressing my son, I directed my question at Logan who was pushing to his feet and trying very hard to hide his own smile. He was a sneaky one; he knew I wouldn't be able to send him home after dinner now.
A couple of minutes later I was assigned the duty of chopping the peppers and mushrooms for the pizza while the boys got their hands dirty by preparing the dough. From my vantage point, I had the perfect view of the pair of them without having to make it obvious that I was studying them.
My chest constricted. A feeling akin to someone thrusting a knife through my heart and twisting it, that's what I felt. Every squeal of laughter coming from the back of Flynn's throat was just more gasoline being poured on to the flame of guilt burning in my gut.
Oblivious to what was going through my mind the boys kept goofing around; more flour on them and the floor than in the dough.
"Mommy, you're bleeding!"
Blinking a couple of times, I realized I'd totally spaced out and managed to cut myself. I had no time to react, though, because one moment Logan was next to Flynn and the next, he was leading me to the sink, holding my hand in the air.
It was only after he'd opened the cold faucet and held my finger under the running water that he spoke. "Where were you just now, Sugar?"
I looked up and found him looking at me with genuine concern on his face. With a shake of my head, I dropped my gaze to the small laceration on my finger bleeding as if it was some major organ.
The laceration on my heart was ten times bigger.
"I…Nowhere." It sounded pathetic even to my own ears. But what was I supposed to say?
Stop being nice to me and my boy?
Stop making me want to stay?
Yeah, no.
There were a few very long seconds where Logan just studied me, the dip in his brows indicating that he didn't believe a word I'd just uttered. But for some reason, he didn't push.
"Where's your first-aid kit?" His ticking jaw and shoulders locked in a tautness battle.
"Under the basin in the bathroom." I pulled my hand out of the water and moved to grab a dish towel. "But, I can get it myself."
"Not a chance." Logan grabbed onto my wrist and leveled me with a stare until I dropped the piece of cloth and allowed him to stick my hand back under the water. "Keep it there, I'll be back." With that, I was left staring at his back as he stomped out of the kitchen.
"Mommy, are you okay?"
Big, worried eyes were staring up at me. "It doesn't even hurt, baby, I promise. Why don't you go play outside for a bit? Dozer is running around out there and I'm sure he's looking for some company."
It took a little more convincing but Flynn eventually gave in and ran outside. It didn't take long for the two to become best pals. Satisfied that he was doing okay, I turned my attention back to my finger. It wasn't bleeding anymore, so I closed the tap and wrapped my hand in the discarded dish towel from earlier.
"Is it still bleeding?" How I didn't notice that he was behind me before now, was anyone's guess. I made sure to school my features before I turned to face him. After unwrapping the cloth, I held my finger in the air for him to inspect.
"See," I said sounding deceptively calm. "All better."
A snort sounded from the back of Logan's throat but he said nothing, just wrapped a Band-Aid around my index finger in the same cautious manner a surgeon would take a scalpel to a patient.
When he was done his fingers were still curled around my wrist. I tugged to try and break free from his grip but he wasn't having any of it. "Uh…thanks?"
Using my arm as a lever he pulled me flush against him. I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was doing but there must've been some sort of misunderstanding; he saw it as an invitation to take possession of it.
Somewhere in the back of my mind reason told me that I should be fighting him right now. That silly thought was quickly overruled by all the wonderful sensations coursing through my body.
I was vaguely aware of a small moan escaping my mouth when he deepened the kiss and pushed his fingers into my hair. One thing I knew for sure: Logan Jackson excelled at kissing a woman stupid.
When he was satisfied that he'd well and truly kissed me senseless, he pulled back and grinned at me.
"Now it's all better."
When I decided to come over and spend time with Harper and Flynn, I'd promised myself that I was going to honor her wishes and go slow. I was going to wait until she made the first move.
But, you know what they say about best-laid plans?
Instead of waiting, here I was trying to kiss the pain I'd seen in her eyes away. Enjoying the feel of her silky strands brushing over my knuckles. Reveling in the mewling sounds escaping her lips. She was my drug of choice and I knew one hit would never be enough.
I was consuming her and yet I wanted—or needed—more. I wasn't just talking about the physical stuff either—although a man could only love on himself so much. I had this overwhelming need to know who or what had hurt her so deeply that I could taste the pain on her tongue.
Unlike my brothers, I didn't suffer from a hero complex. I didn't need to save the damsel. Hell, I needed to save myself before I could even try to be someone else's hero.
But Harper?
I didn't just want to save her; I wanted to glue all of her broken pieces together with all the shattered parts of me. I wanted to weave my way under her skin and into her heart like she'd done with me.
Unfortunately, I also knew that she wasn't even close to that level of intensity yet.
It took a great deal of strength but I managed to pull away from the kiss. As I tried to regain my composure, I took in every little detail of the woman before me. Everything burned into my brain. The way her teeth worried her swollen bottom lip. The blush on her cheeks. But mostly, the desire burning in her eyes.
There was just something very satisfying and humbling about a woman wanting you almost as much as you wanted her.
"As much as I enjoy kissing you, Sugar, I think we better focus on getting that pizza done."
"Yeah," Harper glanced at the
chopping board on which she was cutting a few minutes ago. "I should start on some new toppings."
Reaching out, I took hold of her hand and waited until I had her full attention again before speaking. "What had you looking so…" I searched my brain for the right word and ultimately came up with one I saw in the mirror every morning. "…haunted?"
She swallowed hard and turned her attention to the window overlooking the backyard. Kid and pup were engaged in a tug-of-war with a stick. The big, open-mouthed smile on Flynn's face a testament to the boy's happiness.
"It's just," Harper said softly. "I worry about the things he's missing out on because his father isn't around." Looking back at me with glistening eyes, she continued, "I'm scared that I'm not doing enough to protect him."
"I don't know why or how Flynn ended up not having a daddy," I told her. "And I don't need to know," I added quickly. "What I do know is you are doing a mighty fine job at raising that boy. I just need to look at him to know it's true. With a momma like you, he doesn't need a daddy."
Maybe I said the wrong thing because she just stared at me; eyes widened and her teeth sinking into her lip again. I got the feeling that she was seconds away from throwing my ass out. Then she surprised me by pushing onto the balls of her feet and pressing her lips to my cheek. I couldn't help it, my eyes shut at the contact.
"Thank you, Logan." Her words were soft and her breath warm against my skin. Instead of wrapping both my arms around her like I wanted to, I placed one hand on the sink to ground me.
This woman was giving me just an inch but still, she managed to swallow me whole. When she pulled her head back, I could tell there was something else on her mind, but before she could open her mouth to speak, Flynn and Dozer came barreling through the door.
"Mommy, we're hungry."
Harper and I shared a look which I hoped meant that we would be finishing this conversation soon before she huffed out a laugh. "After all that running I would be hungry too. Dinner will be ready soon, okay?"
Flynn's little head bobbed up and down and then he sprinted out of the kitchen with my overexcited Rottie in tow. It was my turn to study them from behind the window. Even though I'd told Harper that I didn't care about Flynn's daddy, I couldn't help but wonder about the man.
Shattered (Willow Creek Book 1) Page 9