Moonlight on Nightingale Way

by Samantha Young

  “Or there’s D’Alessandro’s,” Hannah offered. “It’s Marco’s uncle’s restaurant. He’d give us the back room for a private function and he’d even cater it.”

  “Yeah?” I said, pleased. “Maia loves the food there. That would be perfect.”

  “I’ll get Marco to call him tonight. When is it?”

  I gave her the date, two weeks from now. “What about decorations? Maia’s not a girlie girl, but I would like to make an effort.”

  “Metallics,” Joss suggested. “As a non–girlie girl myself, you can’t go wrong with silvers and golds and bronzes for decoration.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, scribbling that down.

  “But make sure it’s sweet sixteenth stuff,” Shannon said.

  “Right. What about music?”

  “Deejay?” Olivia suggested.

  I mused over it. “Do you think we could get him to play alternative rock?”

  “Forget a deejay.” Chloe waved the idea off. “We’ll get an iDock and some speakers and plug an iPhone with all her favorite stuff on it into it.”

  That was the music sorted, then.

  “Is that it, then?” I stared at the list I’d made.

  “Ooh, why don’t we put up a projector screen?” Ellie said. “Right across the back wall. At first we can just use it for slides of photos of Maia with us. We’ll take sneaky shots over the next few weeks when we’re with her, and then afterward we can stick on a film for the kids. We could rent a really big one for the back wall. Make a statement.”

  We all liked that, so I wrote down “Rent projector.”

  As we sat talking and throwing out more ideas, laughing and getting sidetracked, I relaxed completely as I realized these women were genuinely invested in making sure Maia had the best birthday ever.

  We were in the middle of discussing whether it would be too much to hire some kind of entertainment act when Logan came striding into my sitting room.

  “Hello, ladies,” he said, and brushed his hand over Shannon’s shoulder as he passed her.

  “Where’s Maia?” I said. He was supposed to be with her, distracting her.

  Logan leaned down and kissed me softly on the lips before settling on the arm of my chair. “I dropped her off at the tattoo parlor. Apparently, Cole said she could spend the day learning about the world of tattoo artistry.”

  “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” Shannon said.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Should she be spending the day in a tattoo studio?”

  “Why not?” Hannah shrugged. “They’re only smoking crack and tattooing babies.”

  I made a face. “I see sarcasm runs in this family.”

  Shannon chuckled. “She’ll be fine, Grace. She’s with Cole. There’s no one more responsible. I promise.”

  Logan rubbed my shoulder. “You think I would have left her there otherwise?”

  “No, of course not,” I assured him. “I’m just a little frazzled. There’s a lot going on.”

  “How are the plans coming along?”

  I dove into explaining what we’d come up with so far.

  His eyes brightened as the girls jumped in with all their ideas. “Sounds perfect,” he said once we’d finished. He peered down at the notebook and the guest list I’d written out. He frowned. “Be sure to add my mum, dad, and Amanda.”

  “What?” Shannon snapped immediately.

  Logan shot her a warning look. “I’m not happy about it either, but Maia wants to meet them and they want to meet her.”

  “Oh, now they want to meet her. So! It’s not up to them.”

  “No. It’s up to Maia. I gave her the choice.”

  “And whose bright idea was that?”

  I winced. “Uh… well… that would be mine.”

  Shannon sighed heavily. “Grace, I know you mean well, but you don’t understand what our parents are like.”

  “I can guess. And I’m worried about Maia meeting them, too, but she is old enough to make this decision herself.”

  “I explained it to her,” Logan said. “I told her exactly what they’re like so she knows what’s she getting into. She still wants to meet them, and we’re going to let her.”

  His sister shook her head and lowered her gaze. “It’s a mistake.”

  An awkward, tension-filled silence enveloped the entire room, and the girls looked at one another, wondering what to do. Jo watched Shannon in concern and reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I think we’re done here for today. Come on, Shannon. We’ll go look for Maia’s birthday presents.”

  Shannon nodded and started to get up.

  The others did, too, the mood completely ruined.

  I glanced up at Logan, who was watching his sister. Feeling my gaze, he looked down at me. “I’ll be right back,” he muttered.

  Logan led his sister and the others out of the room, each of them throwing me smiles and waves. I waited anxiously for Logan to return, worried about Shannon and worried about Maia meeting his parents. His sister’s negative reaction was just too strong to not warrant concern.

  A few minutes passed and I decided to clear up the cups of tea and biscuit plates while I waited. I was in the kitchen, organizing cups into the dishwasher and china ones into the sink to hand wash them, when I heard his footsteps.

  At the press of his body against my back, I melted into him.

  Logan wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder.

  “Is she okay?”

  “She will be.” He turned his head and pressed a kiss to my neck. “We’ll talk about it later.” His lips moved up to my ear. “Right now we’re going to forget everything else but each other.”

  My skin flushed at the recognizable rumble in his voice. “Now?”

  “Now.” His hands coasted down to my hips, and he deliberately ground his erection against my backside. “We’ve had to be quiet the last few times with Maia in the flat. Now we’re all alone… and I want you to be very, very loud.”

  “Loud?” I breathed.

  “Loud.” His hand slipped down and he tugged on the hem of my summer dress. “I like this. Ease of access.”

  I giggled, the sound cut off when his hand slipped under my dress and into my underwear. I gasped as he brushed his fingers over me before moving them down and then sliding two of them inside of me. He played me like that until I was panting and whispering his name.

  “I want you louder than that,” he said, his own breathing coming fast with his increasing arousal.

  He removed his fingers and then curled them around the fabric of my underwear and pulled them down. They fell to the floor, and I stepped out of them. “My room?” I said.

  “Here. Add to the memories.” His words, the heat of him at my back, the sound of the zipper on his jeans sliding down, sent a bolt of pure lust through me, and my fingers curled into the kitchen counter in front of me with anticipation.

  “Spread your legs, babe.”

  My gosh.

  I whimpered and did as he demanded.

  He put his hands on my outer thighs and skimmed his fingertips upward, over my skin, eliciting goose bumps and delicious shivers all over me. He caressed my hips before turning his attention to my bum. His touch was delicate as he smoothed his hands over my cheeks. “I love this arse.”

  I jerked in shock at the gentle touch where I’d never been touched before.

  Logan pressed a kiss to my jaw. “One day,” he said, his voice dark with promise.

  The thought filled me with equal parts trepidation and excitement.

  He felt the shudder of thrill that went through me at the thought and he groaned. I felt the heat of his hard cock brushing across my arse, teasing me, tormenting me, as his hands slid out from under my dress to pluck at the buttons down my chest. His fingers were fumbling as his arousal grew.

  “Logan,” I begged, as cool air drifted over my chest.

  His hands slid under my bra, his fingers and thumbs pinching my nipples. I cried out at the sharp streak of
lust that spiked toward my center.

  “Please.” I wanted him inside me. I wished he’d stop teasing. “I need you.”

  The words were Logan’s undoing. He slammed inside of me, and I keened at the deep invasion, my back bowing with the overwhelming sensation of being filled to full. He slid out a couple of inches and thrust back inside, and I found myself gripping tighter to the counter to steady myself against the force. The kitchen filled with the sound of our heavy breathing, our groans and grunts, the wet slap of flesh as he fucked me, but it wasn’t enough for him. His fingers dug into my hips as he pounded into me from behind, groaning as I pushed back into him in perfect, but rough, rhythm. My panting got louder as he continued to knead my breasts and pinch my nipples.

  “Louder, Grace,” he grunted, reminding me I could be.

  I let all the “Oh Gods” and whimpers and cries that I’d been holding in out as he played my body toward climax.

  “Logan!” I screamed, an orgasm to beat all others exploding through me, my inner muscles squeezing and pulsing around his cock as he continued to ride me to his own climax.

  He came with a deep groan, his mouth on my shoulder, his hands gripping my hips even tighter to his as he rocked up into me, shuddering as he came.

  My limbs were no longer working. The only thing holding me up was the kitchen counter and the man inside of me.

  “Loud enough for you?” I panted, feeling completely spent.

  I felt his grin against my skin, and then he touched my chin, turning my head so I could meet his gaze over my shoulder. There was a ferocious hunger there I knew all too well. “Not nearly. And we’ve got all afternoon to blow the roof off this place.”

  I shivered at the thought. “You’re insatiable.”

  He nodded and pressed his nose against mine. “I can’t get enough of you.”

  “You’re blaming me,” I teased. “You’re just randy.”

  Logan’s body shook with amusement, the movement causing lovely sensations of friction inside of me. “I wasn’t like this until you.”

  I snorted. “I don’t believe that.”

  His expression grew serious. “Believe it.”

  An excited shiver rippled over me. I was stunned that I made him feel that way. Not knowing how to react, I turned my head to avoid his gaze. His hands now rested on the counter in front of me, barricading me against him and it. My eyes traveled over them and caught on the tattoo on his right forearm. I circled my fingertips over it. “You never said what it means.”

  He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Cole gave me it. I asked him for a tattoo and he asked me to trust him enough to choose one for me.” He sighed heavily. “It’s the Celtic symbol for justice.”

  A smile pulled at my lips. “He believes you did the right thing by Shannon.”

  “He would.” Logan huffed. “Of course he would.”

  “He wants you to be at peace with it.” I kissed my fingertips and pressed them to the tattoo. “I knew I liked him.”

  “I was pissed at him when he did it.”

  “And now?”

  “I’m trying to make it fit me.”

  I turned my head slightly to lock gazes with him. “You don’t need to try. It already fits.”

  His reply was the sweetest kiss anyone had ever given me.

  CHAPTER 23

  “S

  o I’ve joined the summer program at the library and the summer program at Meadowbank Swim Center,” Maia announced.

  It was the day after planning Maia’s sweet sixteenth with the girls and things felt like they were moving very fast. I felt like I was trying to swim out of this crashing, joyous wave, while Logan and Maia were content to keep me there… seeing as they were the wave. Apparently, after all my protestations, there would be no taking things slowly for my sake or Maia’s. Maia didn’t want to go slowly, and Logan certainly didn’t.

  Already the pair of them were in my kitchen eating the pasta I’d put in front of them. It was as if we’d traveled back in time to a few weeks ago, only now, every time I looked over at Logan, he stared back at me with undisguised heat in his eyes.

  I swear I’d blushed more around that man in the last seventy-two hours than I had in the many combined embarrassing moments of my childhood.

  “Swimming?” Logan said.

  Maia nodded. “I used to like swimming when I was wee, and I need some kind of exercise.”

  “Good idea, then.”

  “And the library?” I said, smiling.

  She grinned at me. “They have a great YA program.” She shrugged, seeming a little shy. “I thought I might meet some friends there. You know… better ones.”

  “Best news I’ve heard all day,” Logan said.

  Maia looked down at her plate, a small smile of pleasure on her lips. It appeared she’d caught my disease – a state of overwhelming happiness whenever Logan MacLeod was pleased with us. She shrugged. “I thought it would keep me busy this summer.”

  “Speaking of busy, Joss has sent me another manuscript. I just sent her the last one back.” I shook my head, still spinning in amazement at her. “How does that woman write so fast when she has three small children?”

  Logan smiled over at me. “Don’t start the hero-worshiping just yet. I’ve been over there when she’s writing and it’s all Braden. He gives her a few hours a day, finds some way to distract the kids.”

  I sighed at the thought of Braden Carmichael. “I’ve never seen a man so in love.”

  Logan cleared his throat, and I looked over at him. He glowered at me. “No need to be hero-worshiping him either.”

  I struggled to contain my laughter, my fight only made worse when I looked over at Maia and found her grinning mischievously at her dad. “I can see why Grace likes him, Dad. I mean, he’s a wee bit old and all that, but the man has presence.”

  I snorted, losing my struggle. “A wee bit old and all that. Maia, the man is only in his forties.”

  “That’s old to me.”

  “Oh, how you will change your tune when you’re my age and approaching your forties.”

  “You’re only twenty-eight, Grace.”

  “A few weeks ago you said that was old.”

  “It is. But there are levels of old. I’m pretty sure Dad wouldn’t want you if you were Braden’s age.”

  “Wrong,” Logan said, scooping up some pasta. “I’d want her any way I could get her.” He said it with such casualness before popping food into his mouth.

  There was nothing casual about the words, however, or the intent behind them. I stared at him, my lips parted in surprise as I struggled to draw breath in quite so easily as before.

  Sensing my gaze, Logan looked over at me and then at Maia. “What?”

  Maia pressed her lips together at his obliviousness to the significance of what he’d said. She cocked her head and gave him a condescending smile. “You’re adorable, Dad.”

  I burst out laughing.

  Logan stared at his daughter and me in puzzlement. “What just happened?”

  “You know what just happened?” Maia sat back on her stool to look from me to him. “This.” She shook her head in amazement, a gesture that conveyed maturity beyond her years.

  “What’s this?” I said.

  She shrugged and started to eat again. “I’m just happy.”

  Something like panic clutched my chest.

  Logan stared at Maia, arrested. Slowly his gaze drifted over to me, and I saw gratitude, thankfulness, and something much more alarming in his eyes. Determination.

  His determination met the worry in mine and battled with it.

  But I’d been worrying my whole life, and now I had something so important to worry about not even Logan’s strength and persistence could defeat it.

  I worried for Maia.

  I worried that somehow Logan and I would mess this up and Maia would get her heart broken all over again.

  People walked past us in a massive blur, laughing, talking, bumping into us every now
and then. Princes Street was always busy, and on a warm summer day like today, it was even more so as residents and tourists and visitors shopped. Afterward they wandered down into the gardens to sit and soak up the sun, or hide in the shade of the towering Edinburgh Castle.

  I felt comfortable on the streets of Edinburgh. Unlike London, Edinburgh fit me like the perfect pair of shoes. I felt all at once anonymous and well-known to the city. No one looked my way because I fit the streets like I’d been born to them.

  As I walked down Princes Street with my hand clasped tightly in Logan’s, I lacked my usual comfort, my usual perfect fit.

  Logan wasn’t anonymous. Logan was Logan. He demanded you notice him, even if it wasn’t deliberate on his part. And so walking down the street, claimed by this man as his, I was aware of the looks he drew, mostly from young women, and sometimes their eyes would glance from him to me and I had to wonder if that was a question in their eyes.

  Why was he with her?

  “So we’re going into Topshop why?” Logan said as we neared the fashion retailer on the corner of Princes Street.

  “Because I still need to buy Maia a birthday present.”

  He squeezed my hand. “I told you the laptop could be from the two of us.”

  “And I said, ‘Let me give you money, then,’ and you told me to bugger off.”

  Logan grunted. “For good reason.”

  I stopped him and turned to face him. “The laptop is a wonderful gift, and it should just be from you. I am going to buy her a bunch of non–girlie girl stuff, and you’re going to suffer through it since you insisted on spending the day with me.”

  With my hand still in his, Logan put his, and thus mine, behind my back and jerked me against him. He drew me into that sexy low-lidded gaze of his. “With the arrangements for the party, Maia being on school holidays, you working a million manuscripts at a time, and me working, I’ve barely had a chance to get you to myself. I’m grabbing time with you while I can get it. Even if it does involve shopping.”

  “You have seen me,” I argued quietly and pointedly, my cheeks heating at the reminder of how many times he’d “seen” me in a week. “It must be a record or something.”