“Did something happen?”
Oliver sat petting Scout, a contemplative stare in his eyes, before opening up. “Brody said he was Leo’s friend, but Leo don’t like me. He never talks to me.”
“Ahh, I see.” I smiled over at Logan, who was relaxing back in the sofa, listening. “You know, some kids are shy and don’t talk a lot. Maybe you can try talking to him and then you can be his friend too.”
Oliver looked up, thinking it over. “He does have a really cool dinosaur T-shirt.” His face brightened. “I like dinosaurs too.”
Logan and I both laughed.
“See, so it sounds like you just need to try and talk to him.”
“Okay.”
I laughed again at his easy agreement. Ah, to be a kid again.
“Why don’t you go get cleaned up for lunch, Oliver?” Logan spoke up after a few comfortable minutes of silence.
Oliver smiled at me. “I’ll be right back. Daddy made mac and cheese, ‘cause you love it just like me!” He grabbed Scout and ran out of the room.
Logan sat up on the sofa, his hands kneading the back of his neck. He sighed, then looked over at me with a thin smile. “Thanks for coming. He’s been so worried, and I’ve been—”
“It’s no problem,” I cut in, and we shared an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”
He shook his head, smiling softly. “I was just going to say that I’ve tried convincing him you were fine, but seeing you himself helps.”
I nodded in agreement, with no other words to say. A long pause stood between us.
“So, she’s really here to stay, then?” I asked, purposely not speaking Natasha’s name. I shouldn’t have even asked, but curiosity got the best of me.
“It appears so.” He looked down at the arm of the couch.
“What does that mean for Oliver? Aren’t you worried she may leave him again?”
The nerves in my system were gone when he looked up at me with wary eyes, and I could see he was torn over her return. I leaned forward as best I could. “She’s his mother, but you’re his daddy,” I whispered. “I know you’ll make the right call for him.”
“She says she misses him, and I know he wants to see her. I just don’t know if…if I can trust her. I can’t let him get hurt.”
“Yeah, I noticed your trust issue with the whole James Bond setup.”
His brows rose, lips curling up. “James Bond? Is this some fantasy of yours I should know about?”
My head fell, cheeks flushed. We needed to get back on topic—quickly.
I looked back up, serious. “All you can do is be there for Oliver if he wants to see her. If you try and keep her away, he’ll blame you. He knows she’s here.”
Logan sighed, his hand running through his hair.
“Of course he does. How could he not, with the way Julia and Jax carry on about it? Obviously, they are not happy with things. They’re not exactly fans of Natasha. My mother seems to be the only person who believes I’d be doing the right thing if I let her see him.”
It was absurd, but for some reason, that hurt. Logan’s mother liked Natasha.
“You can only do what you think is right.”
The conversation seemed to exhaust him, but he didn’t change the subject. Instead, he spoke softly, for my ears only. “Natasha threatened to tell him I kept them apart if I didn’t let her see him. I can’t have my son hating me—not now, not later. He needs to see her. I just hope she’s grown up.”
Oh, she looked pretty grown up, all right. A flash of her double Ds spilling out of that emerald dress left my stomach in knots. I may not have officially met her, but I already wasn’t a fan.
“Didn’t she want you, as well, on New Year’s?”
Why did I ask that? I blamed the striking image of her in my head, ogling him that night. It still wasn’t right to ask. I wasn’t thinking. We weren’t friends. I was out of line, but I couldn’t help myself.
“Sorry, don’t answer that. It’s not my business,” I added quickly, rubbing my suddenly clammy hands together.
His eyes locked with mine, his stare heavy and thick with that familiar tension I only ever experienced from him.
“I don’t want Natasha. There is only woman I will ever want. I’ve told you this.”
My breathing grew more labored the longer he searched my eyes, seeking entrance to my soul. I blinked, shutting him out.
“And the woman here the other morning?” Why was I still talking?
He looked confused, and it only further added to the fury I felt at the mental image of her wrapping him in her arms and kissing his cheek. It was so intimate, and less like the other women I was used to seeing leave his house.
I needed to get up and go find Oliver, but instead I was sucked in by the side of me that still held onto a tiny shred of hope for us. The senseless side.
“You saw me with Katherine?” His brows rose, surprised.
“Yeah, Katherine, you know—gorgeous brunette wearing mile-high pumps with a tweed blazer and skintight jeans. I’m sure you remember her.” I guess I’d gotten a good-enough view of the woman. I hated to admit how much that image of her with him had haunted me.
To my disbelief, his eyes lit up and lips pulled into a broad grin, and suddenly he was laughing. I had half the nerve to get up and stomp straight out.
“Oh, it’s funny? You know what?” I shook my head, infuriated. “Screw you, Logan! I couldn’t care less how many sluts you go through.” I stood up, wanting to enjoy lunch with Oliver then hightail it out of there.
He grabbed my wrist and stood beside me, still grinning like a schoolboy. He had to have seen my anger brewing, because his lips pulled in as he shook his head once, attempting to stifle his chuckle and control his amusement at my expense.
How dare he laugh at me—and only a couple days after spewing all that nonsense about waiting for me.
“Katherine’s never really been my type.”
At least, not his type once he was through with her. “Right, I’m sure.” Sarcasm was heavy in my tone. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Honestly, I was just surprised to see you gave her the courtesy of walking her to her car.”
Something in him switched, and the light in his eyes dimmed considerably. Was he angry? Did I insult him? A part of me hoped so, since he’d had the audacity to laugh at me.
“She isn’t my type, and never has been. I especially think my older brother would highly disapprove.”
What? I scrunched my face in confusion, but before I could answer, Oliver was bouncing back into the room.
“Come on, aren’t you hungry?” he asked, lifting the dark cloud forming above us.
“We’ll be right there. I was just telling Cassandra about Katherine.” The side of his mouth pulled up and I stiffened. Katherine could not have been some random hookup if she knew Oliver and his brother…and then it hit me.
“Aunt Katie is the best. She makes pancakes that look like Mickey Mouse!”
I swallowed, nodding away my embarrassment. “She’s your brother’s wife,” I grumbled under my breath.
Logan simply raised his brows and watched me shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
“Why don’t you go get the pictures you colored for Cassandra and meet us in the dining room? We’ll be right there,” Logan said, and Oliver left the room, excited to show me his artwork.
My thoughts of why I made such a scene and acted so childish were interrupted when he wrapped his arms fully around me and held me in place.
“You’re jealous.” His fingers delicately moved the strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes in my rush to leave the room.
“Why would I be? Whatever we had, I’m over it. I came over to have lunch with Oliver, so if you’ll excuse me.” My tone was laced in ice as I yanked myself out of his grip, but I didn’t care. I was humiliated that he was seeing through my defenses.
His intoxicating breath tickled my lips as he held me close. “I dislike Luke.”
<
br /> Where did that come from?
“What?”
“Luke, Caleb’s kid brother. The guy who’s been hounding you, waiting for the right time to pounce.”
The confusion on my face slipped into a grin matching his previous one, and like him, I began to laugh.
“Pounce? Luke?” I laughed harder, dipping my head back. Luke was so not interested like that.
Logan raked his fingers over the waistband of my jeans. His fingers brushed my skin, cutting off my giggles in an instant.
My pulse accelerated, and heat coursed up from my toes, surging to the deepest part of me. He’d never touched me there before. I closed my eyes as he spoke.
“He wants you, but the question is: do you want him?”
I was about to tell him how ridiculous he was, but then realized he was jealous. The flash of insecurity I saw in his eyes drove me to say my next words.
“Maybe. He’s sweet, honest, and…” I leaned into his ear, his hand still pressing on my stomach. “…he’s quite sexy.”
I pulled away with a smirk.
“Interesting. I’ll accept that challenge, sweetheart—not that the boy presents one.”
Boy? Luke was only a few years younger than Logan. His arrogance knew no bounds.
“Are you coming?” Oliver called out.
I stepped away from Logan, feeling even more confused about what was evolving between us, yet with a calmness settling over my heart.
Chapter Twelve
Haunted
The grin on my face was bigger than I remembered it being in ages; it felt like my first full day back to my old self. The snow was a thick blanket covering the earth, but it didn’t stand a chance at deterring me. The moment I finished stretching, I was out the door.
Starting off light and easy, I hit the pavement, snow crunching under my feet. The cold morning air rushed through me as I increased my speed down the back road, my face nothing but a carefree grin.
It was invigorating—the pull of my tight muscles and the chance to put everything behind me. It was only a month earlier that I was lying in that hospital bed, dreaming of the moment I’d be back out there. My eyes slid shut for a moment and my mouth opened just enough to suck in a deep breath. With my ribs healed, I could finally enjoy the fresh, snowy breeze knocking into me.
When I returned home an hour later, out of breath and loving it, I was met with the cheerful grin of Oliver standing beside Julia on my front porch.
“Hey, what are you guys doing up so early?” I asked as I came to a stop in front of them, wiping the cold sweat from my brow.
“Oliver saw you out on the road and wanted to come over to see you before I took him to school,” Julia explained with a wary tone I didn’t understand.
“Well, I like hearing that.” I smiled his way.
“How are you feeling? Must be doing pretty good to go out for a run in this weather.”
I shrugged. I enjoyed the winter air. “Better. Things are getting better.”
“You got a car, finally, huh?” I followed her glance to the aged black Honda sitting in my driveway.
“No, just borrowing my mom’s.” She was only loaning it to me while I waited for my appointment at the bank. The loan officer had a busy schedule, but was able to squeeze me in the following week.
My mother, however, was under the impression that I was waiting to speak to Logan about writing a new check after I’d convinced her to let me talk to him. And since her boyfriend was more than happy to shuttle her around until I got my own vehicle, she was officially off my back about it.
Julia nodded with a sympathetic smile and looked down to Oliver. He took a step forward when I opened the door for them to enter, but Julia’s hand landed on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.
“We can’t stay. Don’t want him to be late, sorry,” Julia said, standing in place, and I noticed the tiredness in her tone.
“Oh, okay. Is everything all right?” I asked, watching as Scout ran up and Oliver squatted down to scoop him up. It was nice to finally be able to handle having a puppy in the house again. Bringing him home after my lunch with Oliver had been hard to watch. You’d have thought they were parting for a cross-country voyage until I reminded Oliver he could come over anytime he wanted to visit.
Giggling at the pup licking his tiny face, Oliver looked up to Julia. “Can I ask now?”
She nodded and then looked to me, with an irritated scowl settling between her brows.
Before I could question it, Oliver burst out, “My mom came to see me! She said she’d take me out soon, too.” He was practically stuttering with excitement.
I kept my thin smile fixed in place, glancing up at the now-understandable gloomy expression on Julia. She made a face.
“That’s great. I’m so happy for you, Oliver.”
He looked pleased, and sat Scout back on the ground. “I told her ‘bout the tree house, but Daddy said she’s not allowed to see it. Said I had to ask you first. Can I show her when she comes back?”
Natasha—Logan’s ex—in my tree house? Not a chance, and I didn’t even want to analyze why that bothered me so much. But she was Oliver’s mother…how could I say no?
“Sure, of course,” I replied with a nod, attempting to cover the hesitation in my voice.
“I told Daddy you’d say yes!” He ran into me, hugging me around the waist until Julia told him it was time to go. He looked up, and added, “She’ll love it as much as we do!”
“I’m sure she will.” A broken and awkward laugh fell from my lips as he hopped down from the porch steps.
“See you Saturday, Cassie!” Julia called back as they cut through the lawn back to Logan’s.
I gave a nod, then quickly realized I had no clue why I was seeing her this weekend.
“Saturday?”
She turned back, her brows pinched together. “Yeah, Logan’s birthday.”
Birthday? “Oh, I didn’t know.”
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Of course he didn’t tell you. He’s not big on celebrating it, but we force him to sit down and open a few presents and eat cake. We do the big party next month; since Oliver’s birthday is exactly one month to the day of Logan’s, my mother goes all out for that one. So it’s just Jax, Oliver, and me for Logan’s, but it’s nice.” She hesitated for a brief moment before adding, “Mark has to work late, so he won’t be there.”
This was news to me, as well as her nervousness at bringing up Mark. Did she know more about our past? It didn’t matter, and the party was way too family-oriented for me to be included in it.
“Thanks, but I don’t think I should come. Like you said, it’s just you and Jax—family.”
“And my mom,” Oliver chimed in. “I invited her too.”
“You what?” Julia snapped.
“Daddy said I could,” he defended with a pouting lip.
With a huff, Julia looked back to me. She was definitely not okay with Oliver’s last-minute invite.
“Like I said, it’s Saturday at six, and I know Logan would love for you to be there. Just think about it.”
I nodded, unsure why I didn’t clarify right away that I wouldn’t be attending. Instead, I grabbed Scout and headed inside, eager to clear my head with a cool shower.
Logan was back to work, which meant I had a lot of free alone time on my hands. I spent most of the week sitting in my freezing attic, rummaging through the last of my grandparents’ treasures. After sliding the last box down the ladder and watching it smack on the hall floor below, I stood looking around at the empty space.
As a kid, I was never allowed in the small room. I’d always wondered what I’d find if I pulled down the ladder and snuck up. Grandma swore it was nothing more than a dusty dropping zone with stacks of boxes and old furniture, but seeing it empty aside from an old sofa and antique dresser which were too heavy to move, I realized ‘small’ was not the word to describe it—dusty, yes, but it was larger than I’d expected.
Two stai
ned-glass windows filtered in light on each side of the room, highlighting the dark wooden floors. Years of neglect and wear magnified the floor’s true age, but there was something comforting in it. I sat with my back against the bare brick wall, losing myself in a daydream of turning it into my own private office—or secret library.
I sat beside the sofa that was covered in a drop cloth and closed my eyes. Color schemes and furniture layouts played through my mind, just as they had for Julia’s house. I could dream at least.
The instant the phone vibrated beside me, I was pulled back to the empty room covered in cobwebs and layers of dust, as well as the somber reality of my empty bank account. No lavish makeover happening there.
I knew without looking whom the text was from. It’d been over two hours since I’d received one from Logan, with my last to him explaining I was getting my hands dirty and didn’t wish to be bothered.
With a smile, I read.
Still cleaning?
How did he know getting my hands dirty meant cleaning? He knew me better than I cared to admit. I replied.
Just finished.
Logan was careful not to hover too closely after my lunch with Oliver, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t blowing up my phone at least a dozen times a day—all texts, never once a call. I guess if we didn’t hear each other’s voices, it didn’t count as actually talking—at least, not to him.
Can I see you tonight?
It was the same request every night, and my reply was always the same.
No.
Instantly, he answered back.
I’ll bring dinner. Grilled cheese. Oliver can supervise
Lol. I’ll pass but tell Oliver I miss him
I will. Have a good night Cassandra.
You too.
I tucked my phone in my pocket, but the moment I went to stand, it vibrated again. He normally accepted my refusal and wouldn’t text again until after eight or nine to say good night.
The screen flashed and my finger swiped over it to show a text from Julia.
U still coming tonight?
I groaned, shoulders slouching. Logan’s birthday. I’d been so focused on sorting years of baggage that I’d completely forgotten.
Irreplaceable (Harmony) Page 12