The woman was a knockout.
With a bounty of chestnut hair piled on her head, her long, elegant neck was exposed, begging to be nuzzled. Pale pink lips glistened from a heart shaped face dusted with freckles. He bet she hated them and they should have made her look childish, but they only added color to an otherwise breathtaking face. She wore dark glasses so he didn’t get a look at her eyes, but he bet they were a stunning shade of green.
God, and that mouth. She had the mouth of a porn star, not that he would necessarily know. To this day he'd never watched a pornographic movie. He was too afraid he would see dear old Mom on the screen.
And then there was her body—the body of a goddess. Although movie star thin, she had curves in all the right places. He detected delicate white lace beneath the halter top and the flesh that filled it was round and pert and he bet one hundred percent natural. Thinking along those lines made him painfully aware that the only things he wore were a threadbare blue towel and a three-year-old on his arm.
Then his precious daughter had to go and invite the woman over to dinner. Hell, she was desirable, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t interested. After his mother ran out on him and Dan and then the number Isabella’s mother pulled on him, he didn’t trust women. When one tried to get too close, he went into full flight mode. He didn’t do relationships. Aunt Trudy tried. She was forever fixing him up with so and so’s niece or daughter or friend, ignoring his demands that she stop. Before Isabella’s arrival, one of Trudy’s women, Charlotte, tried everything she could to get her claws into him. He made the mistake of asking her to the grand opening of Matt Dianetti’s new hotel and somehow in her twisted mind, she thought he professed true love.
It might have had something to do with the marathon sex they engaged in that night.
He got roped into spending the night in a luxury suite with a fantastic view of downtown Indy and with the opulence of his surroundings and the Scotch he imbibed, he had zero resistance to her advances. Like any stupid man with a willing and eager woman, he slept with her.
Big mistake. Now she wouldn’t leave him alone. She called constantly, stopped by his house and even contacted him at work. Thank goodness her office sent her out of town for months. Still, she sent a postcard every day. He tried to toss them away but Bella loved the colorful pictures on the front.
Isabella spoke softly to her puppy, jolting Logan from his musings. He smiled. It was a cute ball of fur but he still wished she'd picked out a more manly dog. When he promised her a pet, he pictured a golden retriever puppy with paws bigger than his head running around the yard. Or maybe a feisty lab with a shiny black coat like the dog he had growing up. A five pound puff of curls didn’t even cross his mind. But, Isabella fell in love at first sight and all he wanted to do was make his little girl happy.
“What sounds good for dinner, Bella?”
“Cheesies!” she squealed happily.
Logan chuckled. Of course. She would eat macaroni and cheese for breakfast if he would let her.
“I’ll make a deal with you. If you eat some green beans, I’ll let you have cheesies.”
“Kay, Daddy.”
He propped her in her booster chair and pulled out pots and pans. Dinner for him used to be a fast food burger, a frozen dinner or a pizza, with the latter making up the majority of his diet. With a growing baby girl, he learned how to cook—fast.
Lauren Dianetti, Bella’s babysitter, tutored him in the fine art of food preparation. Her grandmother paid for her to learn haute cuisine from masters. He was making progress so he was a step above PB&J, but Emeril Lagasse he was not.
The white ball of fur darted around the kitchen, sniffing everything in sight. He hiked his leg against the trash can and Logan moved quickly to gently scold him and place him on the training pad he picked up from the pet store. They gave him a crash course on paper training and he bought two books on the subject as well.
The fluff ball looked at him with liquid brown eyes and Logan felt bad for reprimanding him. He picked the dog up and petted him. “You know, Bella, I’ve been thinking of names. I know you wanted to name him FiFi.” Bella watched a cartoon with a dog with that name and she'd been adamant about calling this puppy by that moniker. He tried to tell her that if she wanted to name the poor dog that, she needed to pick a female. She fell in love with this one and there had been no derailing her. Even he wasn’t cruel enough to name a boy dog FiFi.
The ball in his hands looked at him expectantly, as if he knew Logan held his fate in his hands. “Please don’t name me something like Big Bad Butch,” the dog seemed to plead. Logan ruffled his topknot. “How about we call him Fiji, instead?”
“Feegee! Feegee! Yes, Daddy! I love it. Feegee!”
Bella danced in her seat, her hands waving in the air. Fiji seemed to be happy with his new name, too, as he gave Logan a wet swipe of his pink tongue.
Logan wiped doggie slobber from his cheek and handed the newly crowned Fiji to Bella. “It’s pronounced Fiji, and it is a beautiful island in the South Pacific.”
“An iwand? In the water?”
“Exactly.”
“Have you been there, Daddy?”
Oh yeah. He spent a glorious three days there after hell week, his initiation into the SEALs. Not only was the island breathtaking, so were the women, particularly one named Lala. He sighed in fond remembrance. “Yes, I have.”
“Then I wanna go too,” she stated firmly.
“Maybe we will, someday, Bella. Maybe we will.”
#
Where the hell was Juliet?
It wasn’t like her to disappear without telling him where she was going, where she would appear next. Usually she used the television to communicate with him. Just to keep him on his toes, sometimes she put the information in a magazine or newspaper or every once in a while, the radio. She knew he loved puzzles and making him hunt for her clues were the very best kind. But she always let him know, one way or another.
It wasn’t like her to disappear from the face of the earth with no word at all.
Maybe it had something to do with that scum ex-husband of hers, Kyle Ashton. Even the name made him sick to his stomach. He'd been devastated, suicidal when she married someone else. She loved him. Him! When he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, she apologized on national television. The marriage was a mistake, she said. Well, duh. Of course it was. She loved him. But he knew everyone made mistakes and he'd forgiven her, just like that.
That’s what true love was about—forgiving and forgetting.
And Juliet was his true love. They belonged together, not just in this life, but they were destined to be bound to each other throughout eternity.
Oh, Mother hadn’t been happy he accepted her forgiveness so easily. She called Juliet all kinds of derogatory names: slut, whore, heathen. No one would ever measure up to her standards, no one would ever be good enough for her baby. He should know that by now, she told him. She drilled it into his head every chance she got.
He curled up next to his mother but ignored her ranting. Juliet was his, forever and always. But now she was gone and he didn’t know how to find her, to let her know that he'd forgiven her, tell her he still loved her with all his heart and soul.
He needed to think, figure out a way to contact her, make sure she knew he was waiting.
She wouldn’t just disappear without leaving him clues. Maybe she left the answer for him in one of her movies. He would have to watch them all and keep alert for any signs she might have sent him.
He left his mother to sulk silently in the living room and padded to his bedroom. He flipped through a stack of DVD’s and decided on “Tahiti Sunset,” the movie where she prances around in his favorite bikini, just like he asked her to wear. He fast-forwarded to the scene where she ran along the beach in the yellow-flowered swimsuit.
Ah, yes, his Juliet. He unzipped his pants and began to stroke himself. His Juliet, turning to smile at the camera—to smile at him.
She
flounced around in the surf, using her arms to toss the ocean water in the air. She was happy and carefree and all his. He moaned harshly, picturing the next time he would be with his true love.
Chapter Six
Isabella Gertrude Bradley-Banks-Crenshaw-Edison, Trudy to her friends, sipped a Mai Tai and adjusted the steamy romance novel in her lap. Jade LaRossa should have arrived by now. If everything went according to plan—well, Trudy’s plan anyway—Jade and Logan should be falling in love right about now.
Trudy sighed. How she wished she were home to oversee her carefully crafted machinations. But alas, she must rely on fate to take its course.
Trudy was no stranger to romance. She buried three husbands before she turned thirty, God rest their souls. She met husband number one, Helmut Banks, when she traveled Europe after college graduation. He was exceptionally handsome, excessively rich and exceedingly reckless. He died racing his Alfa Romeo on the Autobahn.
Husband number two, Leonard Crenshaw, she met at the ripe age of twenty-five. He'd been twenty years her senior but she'd truly loved him. He died from a massive heart attack in the middle of open heart surgery—not his, but the one he was performing. The assisting doctors managed to save the patient on the operating table, but dear old Leonard had not been so fortunate.
Number three, Marcel Edison, was a bookish, gentle soul, a whiz at stocks. Their marriage lasted three months before his ex-wife gunned him down in a brutal murder-suicide.
Three husbands, three burials, all before birthday number thirty. Deciding she must carry some heinous bad luck gene, Trudy vowed to never wed again.
She loved men, she just didn’t want to kill any more of them.
She gathered up her sorrows, traveled the world for years, and enjoyed the finer things in life. On a stop home, she checked on her younger brother Kenny, only to be told he'd been killed in a military accident in the Middle East.
She and Kenny had been inseparable when they were young, and even managed to keep a close relationship during her three marriages. But when Kenny brought Silvia home, her immediate distrust of the woman caused a rift in their relationship she thought she would never be able to repair after his sudden death.
Distraught at having missed his funeral and a chance to reconcile with her only sibling, she sucked up her pride and contacted Kenny’s widow, who painted a rosy picture of her single-handedly raising their two boys, Logan and Daniel, nephews Trudy had never even met.
Trudy ended the phone conversation feeling grim, and was shocked to pick up the phone later that evening and hear a young voice asking her if she was really his dad’s sister. Trudy assured the young man that yes, she and Kenny were indeed siblings and had once been very close. The boy lowered his voice and by the tunnel sound, Trudy could tell he'd wrapped his hand around the mouthpiece. Obviously he had something important that he didn’t want to be overheard.
His words slashed Trudy’s already bruised heart. Logan asked if she was married and when she said yes, three times but like his dad, her husbands had passed on, he then asked if she had kids. She told him that no, the Lord hadn’t blessed her with any. He asked if she had enough money to take care of one. Her three wealthy husbands had left her set for life and she assured the young boy that she could manage. Almost afraid to hear him continue, he told her that he was ten and he could take care of himself but he wanted a better life for his two-year-old brother. He confided that he was the one who fed and changed and protected Danny, as he called him. But he couldn’t guard him during the day when he went to school, and he feared what might happen to his little brother.
Her heart in shreds, she listened as Logan revealed the details of his plan. If she could just come to California, he would meet her someplace with Dan and she could whisk him away to a better life. He would make up a story of someone breaking in and kidnapping the toddler. He didn’t think his mother would care.
Trudy instantly agreed, and the relieved sigh and small sniffles that traveled clearly through the receiver broke her heart neatly in two. She set up an emergency appointment with her lawyer to draw up necessary paperwork. Next, she arranged for a seat on the very next flight to California, a return trip for three and flew out to claim her nephews.
Silvia rejected Trudy’s demand that she turn over her sons at first. A check with many zeros quickly changed her mind. Trudy bought custody of the two most precious boys in the world for a pathetic one hundred thousand dollars. She'd been willing to go as high as needed, even into the millions, but greedy Silvia had snapped up her first offer and signed the documents giving up her rights to her children without even reading it, especially the clause that said she could not contact the boys, nor could she ask for more money.
Silvia didn’t so much as kiss her boys goodbye as she raced out the door to spend her new windfall.
Trudy fought the murderous rage that coursed through her body. She would never understand why God would give a woman like Silvia, who didn’t want nor deserve kids, two when she'd not been able to have any. Oh she would have loved and cherished kids with all her heart. Ah, but God works in mysterious ways and while she did not give birth to Logan or Dan, they were hers in every other sense of the word.
Trudy began gathering the boy’s meager belongings while Logan held Dan against his chest, relief warring with sorrow on his handsome little face. He didn’t want to let his brother go but knew he must if the boy were to have a chance to survive. Trudy bent to eye level and told Logan that he didn’t have to leave his brother after all. He was coming with them. Surprise and shock registered in his ten-year-old face before it crumpled with tears of joy. He squeezed his baby brother so hard the little guy yelped.
The plane ride home had been awkward. She'd never met the boys before and now she would be their only family. At just ten, Logan had been forced to grow up early and was already jaded when he came to live with her. He proved to be a hard shell to crack. He couldn’t fathom why someone would want him around and he could not grasp the concept of unconditional love until Trudy put it into context of how he felt about his baby brother.
When the trio arrived in Bloomington, she took the boys shopping and let them pick out whatever they wanted, including the furnishings for their bedrooms. Logan had been reluctant, suspicious. He picked very few things for himself but plenty for Dan. Trudy filled in the rest, piling their carts high with toys and games and clothes.
She would never tell Logan or Dan that their mother accepted cash for giving them up for her to raise. They didn’t need to know the extent of her betrayal. She told them that in order for Silvia’s dream of becoming a movie star to come true, she needed to move to Hollywood alone. But Silvia’s loss had been her gain. She loved and cared for the boys, reared them as her own.
Kenny had been a good father, she was sure, but the military kept him away for long periods of time and he hadn’t been around to witness the abuse and mistreatment of his sons. Trudy believed with all her heart that if he'd known, he would have whisked his boys out of there to a safe place.
It took most of the winter, but Logan finally adjusted, accepted her love and returned it. He went from a somber-faced ten-year-old to a happy-go-lucky eleven. He excelled at sports, started making A’s and made several friends, including his current partner Luke Colton who had been a neighbor and a couple of years older.
When Logan left to join the Navy, she didn’t know who cried more, her or Dan. When he started earning money, he sent regular payments home to care for his brother, no matter how much she insisted that she didn’t need the help. Her pleas fell on deaf ears. She accepted Logan’s money, but she put it all in an investment fund for him when he came home. And she prayed constantly that he would come back to her and Dan.
Logan would not allow Dan to follow in his footsteps and join the military, much to Trudy’s relief. The years he spent first in the Navy and then with the SEALs had been the most frightening, worrisome years in her life. He would leave at the drop of a hat, not able to tell h
er where he was going or when he would return. She wouldn’t hear from him for weeks, sometimes months on end. Every time the phone rang, she dreaded answering. Then one night, the very thing she feared most in the world happened. Logan had been critically injured. They didn’t know if he would make it through the night.
Dan had been in college at the time but insisted on living at home with Trudy. The two of them jumped on a plane bound for Germany and arrived to find a battered, beaten, bruised Logan in a coma. They stayed by his bed the entire time and then flew in the plane with him when he'd been transferred to the States. While Logan’s body began to heal, his head did not. Despondent over the death of his friend, his fiancée’s desertion and the end of his career, he'd been inconsolable. Dan took the semester off to be with his brother but nothing seemed to cheer him up until his childhood buddy Luke offered him a proposition.
Trudy sighed, thinking back to that day the light returned to her precious Logan’s eyes. He had a new purpose, a reason to get up in the morning. And then a few months ago, Logan’s life changed dramatically. Trudy smiled. Little Isabella—her namesake—arrived. One of God’s many miracles.
Trudy had been honored beyond belief to learn that Logan had planned on naming his daughter after her if he ever had one, and the only thing she had to thank Celeste for was honoring that wish.
If Celeste hadn’t been killed, she would hunt her down and do the job herself for keeping Logan from his daughter for the first years of her life. Callous, yes, but no woman had the right to intentionally keep a father from his child.
Ah well, Trudy waved a dismissive hand through the air, water under the bridge. Isabella was Logan’s now. He was happy. The little girl was happy. The only thing missing was a woman to be a mother to Isabella and to keep Logan’s bed warm at night.
The Fan Page 4