Cursing, he stalked back into the kitchen.
Derek looked up, in the midst of putting his bowl into the dishwasher. Suddenly, Logan was spoiling for a fight.
“Don’t,” he bit out, “come between me and Claire again.”
Derek’s mouth twisted in a mocking grin. “Or what, Logan? You’ll kick my ass? Kick me out? Go ahead. Jesus, when did you get to be such an asshole?”
Logan’s fists clenched. “I could ask you the same question.”
Derek slammed the dishwasher closed. “You’re the one treating the mother of your child like an easy lay you brought home from some bar. You might not be aware of it, but women generally like to feel like they mean more to you than just a good screw.”
“You have a hell of a lot of nerve,” Logan growled, closing in on him. “Stay out of my goddamn business.”
“I’m your best friend,” Derek countered, “and when I see you fucking something up, it’s my obligation to tell you.” He flashed a pretty-boy grin. “And you’re fucking this up big time.”
That clinched it for Logan. He threw the first punch, and a knockdown, drag-out brawl ensued right there in the kitchen. When it was over, Logan had a split upper lip and a black eye. Derek sported a bruise on his right cheek and a matching black eye. They looked at each other, both panting for breath. Two of the barstools had been knocked over in the fight, and a cereal bowl littered the tile in shards.
Logan dragged a hand through his hair, taking in the disarray. “Shit,” he breathed, looking back at Derek. “I’m sorry.”
Derek pressed a hand to his cheek and gave Logan a rueful half-grin. “I’m not really the one you owe an apology, Loge.”
“You won’t give up, will you?” Logan snatched a napkin from the island and pressed it to his bleeding lip. “You’re like a dog with a goddamn bone.”
Derek observed him with a grave expression. “Why are you determined to screw things up with Claire? She’s a good woman. She deserves better.”
Logan balled up the napkin and strode over to the trashcan, tossing it inside with more force than necessary. “Since when did you become an expert at judging character?” He knew it was a low blow when he said it, but he couldn’t help himself. Derek paled, making Logan feel instantly ashamed of himself. “Derek, I didn’t mean that.”
“Yes you did,” Derek said, his jaw clenched. “And you’re right. When it came to Trina, I was probably just following my dick. But Claire isn’t Trina. Hell, Logan, she isn’t like any woman I’ve ever met. She’s genuine, sweet, caring.”
Logan felt himself getting pissed off all over again. Why did Derek insist on extolling all Claire’s virtues? And why, for God’s sake, was he taking Claire’s side in all this? He leveled a savage kick at the trashcan and it tipped over, spilling its contents all over the floor. Hell. Napkins, milk cartons and junk mail skittered across the tiles, mingling with the broken bowl and cereal remnants.
“Christ, what a mess.” He looked up at Derek. “Why can’t you just let this go?”
“Because I’m your friend.” He sighed. “You don’t sit by and keep quiet when I fall off the wagon, right?”
“Right,” Logan allowed, “but that’s different.”
“Not really. Screwing your life up is screwing your life up.”
“I’m not screwing my life up.”
“Yes you are.”
“Damn it.” Logan slammed his fist against the kitchen counter, taking solace in the burst of pain that flared through his hand. “She kept me a secret from her own parents.”
Derek started. “What are you talking about?”
“Her mother still thought her ex-husband was the baby’s father until yesterday when I broke the unfortunate news to her,” Logan said bitterly. “I guess I can’t really blame her. From what I hear, her ex-husband was a saint if you don’t count his habit of screwing other women. Perfect job, perfect looks, perfect background.” He laughed, the sound holding little mirth. “Can you imagine what she would say? I accidentally got pregnant by a man who used to dumpster dive for supper.”
“Don’t do that to yourself, Loge.” Derek bent down, cleaning up the pieces of the bowl. “You’re successful. Hell, when I think of how you built your company from the ground up, it amazes me. Forget about the ex-husband. He’s an ex for a reason. There has to be an explanation for her not telling her parents.”
“There might be, but I don’t want to hear it.”
“Get me a trash bag, will you?” Derek continued to methodically pile the slivers of bowl into his free hand. “Don’t blow this. You finally have the opportunity to make yourself the life you’ve been wanting.”
Logan stilled in the midst of retrieving a bag from the cabinet behind him. Derek’s words hit a chord within him. All his life, from the time he’d been an unwanted kid juggled between foster homes, to the time he’d become a successful advertising executive, he’d wanted a family. The need to belong, to feel wanted and loved, had haunted him for as long as he could recall. Even now, he wanted it with a desperation that scared the hell out of him.
But he didn’t have to give in to it. Angry now, with himself as much as with Derek and Claire, he yanked the bag from the cabinet and tossed it at Derek. “You don’t have to clean this up, you know. It’s my mess.”
“I know,” Derek said reasonably, “but you’ve cleaned up my messes often enough.”
“True.” Logan bent too, his knees cracking loudly. A reminder that he was getting older every minute, too old to be alone. Or too old to chain himself to a woman who didn’t want him. He thought again of their week together. To him, it had been a rare slice of heaven on earth. To Claire, it had obviously been much less. Did she suffer him because he was the father of her child? Was she merely trying to make the best of a bad situation?
Just the thought of it made him feel sick. His hand convulsed on the shard of ceramic he’d just picked up, and he felt a brief pang of pain. Looking down, he realized he’d cut himself. Blood oozed from the cut and dripped down onto the white tiles.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Oh hell.” Derek shoved a wad of napkins at him. “Cover that up before I pass out.”
Logan obligingly pressed the napkins to the cut, wincing as pain shot through his hand. “What the hell am I going to do, Derek?”
“I suggest you apologize to Claire.” Derek finished cleaning the floor and stood. “But I have a feeling you’re going to have to work this one out on your own.”
That, Logan thought grimly, was precisely the problem.
By the time Claire reached Sophie’s house, both Sophie and Trevor were gone. A hastily scrawled note on the kitchen table revealed they had taken a carload of boxes to their new house. Utterly miserable, Claire grabbed a container of raspberry yogurt from the fridge and plopped into a chair. Maybe she’d been wrong thinking Logan could ever open up to her enough for it to make a difference. One day had erased a week’s gain. She had thought—so foolishly—that they could overcome the obstacles between them.
But Logan didn’t want to meet her halfway. He didn’t want to trust in her.
She dug into her yogurt with grim relish, trying desperately to distract herself from the fact that her life was falling apart. Halfway through her third spoonful, the doorbell rang. Convinced that Logan had followed her, she abandoned her yogurt and the kitchen, nearly running to the front door in her eagerness. Maybe he was willing to talk it over with her after all. Had he come to apologize?
A smile curving her lips, she threw the front door open and froze. The smile slipped, surprise getting the best of her. “Garrett.”
Her ex stood before her, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a sweater she’d never seen before. It seemed an odd thing to notice, but she couldn’t help it. Once, she’d known all the clothing in this man’s closet, had washed and folded and ironed it all. But now their lives had taken such different turns.
“Hi, Claire. I’m sorry to drop by like this, but…” His wo
rds trailed off as he peered down into her face. “Have you been crying?”
She thought of the blur that had been her drive home from Logan’s. Of how she’d pulled over three times to blow her nose and wipe her eyes. “No,” she lied. “What do you want, Garrett?”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “I actually wanted to talk about some things before the divorce is finalized. Can I come inside?”
“Okay.” Claire stepped back, holding the door wide for him to enter. She ruthlessly quashed the feelings of disappointment rising inside her that it was Garrett crossing the threshold and not Logan. It was obvious that she would be far better off giving up on Logan Monroe.
When she and Garrett were seated opposite one another in the living room, Claire spoke first, needing to fill the awkward silence. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Our things.” Garrett looked even more uncomfortable than he had before. “We haven’t even talked about what you want and what I want, other than through our lawyers. I just wanted to sit down and talk things through.”
“I’m not really in the mood to divvy up our things.”
He leaned forward on the edge of the sofa, studying her intently. “You have been crying.”
She fought the urge to avert her face. “I haven’t.”
Garrett’s face darkened. “It’s him, isn’t it? Claire, you know that if there’s anything I can do, I’ll do it for you in a heartbeat. You don’t need to depend on him for anything.”
“I know.” Claire forced a smile. “But it’s nothing. I’m just easily upset.”
Garrett rose and crossed the room, sinking down onto the cushion next to her. “I know you. I can see in your eyes that it’s more than nothing.”
“We had an argument,” she admitted, feeling more than just a little odd confiding in him about her relationship with Logan. “I was upset about it, but I’m fine now.”
Garrett slid an arm around her shoulder. “You know you can call me any time you need anything.”
“I know,” she agreed. “But it feels strange.” And it did. She’d been betrayed by him, hurt and angry with him at first, then detached from the whole situation. And now, it seemed odd indeed to be the recipient of kindness and concern from the man who’d broken her trust.
“We’re friends,” he reminded her. “I still care about you. I’ll never stop caring about you.”
“How sweet.” Logan’s acerbic voice intervened suddenly.
Claire started and turned to the doorway, surprised to find Logan hovering there, looking like a dark, avenging angel. Make that an angry avenging angel. She hadn’t even heard the front door open and close.
“Logan.” She rose from the sofa, staring at him. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
A snide grin kicked up the corner of his mouth. “Obviously.”
She noticed then that he sported a puffy upper lip and a black eye. “What on earth happened to you?”
“Derek,” he said simply, his gaze swerving to Garrett, who had risen and now stood by Claire’s side. “What the hell’s he doing here?”
“I came to talk with Claire,” Garrett said coolly. “Is that okay with you, or did you want to get your ass kicked a second time today?”
Logan’s grin turned feral. “Try me, pretty boy.”
“Oh for God’s sake.” Claire threw up her hands in disgust. “Would you two stop it? Logan, Garrett came to ask me about things I want before the divorce goes through. Garrett, please don’t antagonize Logan. I don’t need the two of you breaking into a fight right here in the middle of Sophie’s house.”
Logan crossed his arms over his chest. “Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, why don’t you tell pretty boy he has to leave, Claire?”
“Logan.”
“What?” Logan raised a haughty brow. “You want him here?”
Anger skewered through her. After treating her like an unwanted houseguest this morning, he wanted to simply reappear and demand her company? The man’s arrogance never failed to stun—or enrage—her. “You know what? Maybe I do want him here.”
Logan’s eyes glittered. “Fine. But I’d like to have a word with you. In private.” He gave Garrett a meaningful glare.
Garrett looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted his feet, tugging at his collar. “Claire, I’ll just go. I don’t—”
“No,” she said firmly. “Stay right here. You don’t have to leave just because Logan is being rude.”
Logan’s jaw tightened. “Just get him the hell out of here for five minutes so I can talk with you.”
Claire took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She decided the most expedient way to deal with Logan was to simply give in to him. No one knew how stubborn he could be better than she. She flashed Garrett an apologetic glance. “If you could excuse us for just a few minutes?”
Garrett looked from her to Logan, an odd expression on his face. “I’m going to go. I’ll call you later.”
“You can stay.”
“I’ll call you later,” he repeated firmly, his tone brooking no argument. Giving Logan a glare, he left the room.
Claire waited for the front door to click shut before she started in on Logan. “Are you happy now? You bullied him into leaving. You’re the biggest boy on the playground.”
His eyes darkened. He strode across the room, stopping uncomfortably close to her. “I don’t want him hanging around.”
“Excuse me, but I don’t really think you have any say in the matter.” Claire poked his chest with a finger.
He caught her finger in a tight grip before she could land a second poke. “I have every right.”
“No. You don’t have any right.” She pulled her finger from his grasp with a forceful yank. “Especially not after treating me the way you did this morning.”
“For Christ’s sake. You’ve been lying to your parents for months just so they didn’t find out I’m the father of your baby instead of your perfect husband. What did you expect? Did you think I’d be happy about that? Don’t tell me you’re that deluded.”
“If you’d just give me a chance to explain,” she burst out, frustration getting the best of her. “I’ve been trying since yesterday, and you keep telling me you don’t want to hear it. It’s like you don’t want to give up a reason to be angry with me.” Sudden understanding dawned clear in her mind. “That’s it, isn’t it? You need a reason to be angry with me, don’t you?”
Logan turned away from her, pacing the length of the room. “You’re being ridiculous. Of course I don’t want a reason to be angry with you. You’re going to have my baby. We’ll need to get along outside the bedroom.”
She met his gaze. “I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore. Just when I feel like we’re getting closer, something happens and you shut me out again. Maybe we should just stop seeing each other for a while.”
“Stop seeing each other,” he repeated, giving her a dark look. “Claire, you’re carrying my child. I don’t think it’s feasible for us to just stop seeing each other. Besides, with you staying on at LM, it will be impossible.”
“I’ve been rethinking my decision to stay,” she blurted, eyeing him warily as he crossed the room back to her again.
“What?” His voice was soft, deceptively so.
It was a lie. She hadn’t been rethinking it, not until this very moment. But looking at him now, she could tell he believed her. And that he was infuriated at the thought.
“I think my staying at LM would complicate things even further. I don’t see how we could keep our relationship a secret. If we can’t get along on a personal basis, how will be able to manage professionally?”
Logan’s lips tightened into a forbidding line, his stare harsh. “We’ll manage because you promised me. You can’t back out now, damn it. There’s too much at stake.”
Claire felt a hollow sensation spreading through her chest at his words. He cared more that she stay on at LM than he did that they work o
ut their relationship. In the end, that was what it all came down to with him. Business. God, it made her feel sick. Their week together suddenly seemed like a lie. All the ground they’d covered had been lost since their return and they stood toe to toe in square one again.
“There’s more at stake than you think,” she told him quietly. “You’re just too blind to see it.”
“What are you saying, Claire?”
“I don’t know.” She felt stricken. “I think you should go now.”
“Not until you tell me what you mean.” His voice was bitter. Determined.
“What I mean,” she said, “is that it’s over. I can’t be with you, not like this.”
His face froze into a mask. She couldn’t read any emotion in his eyes or expression. “If that’s how you feel.” He shrugged as though it was the most trivial matter, as though he didn’t give a damn one way or the other. Maybe he didn’t.
“It is.” Her voice was wooden, empty. “Naturally, you can still be a part of the baby’s life.”
A mocking smile curved his lips. “Naturally.”
Tears threatened her vision and she blinked, forcing them back. Her nails dug into her palms. “I’ll stay on at LM until I can find something else.” She took a breath. “I have a doctor’s appointment on Wednesday. If you’d like to come, I can give you directions.”
He nodded. “Fine.”
Just like that, they were strangers again.
Claire’s life was unraveling like a jumbo-sized ball of yarn. Last night, her sleep had been plagued by images of yarn balls unwinding and tangling, trapping her inside their cloying strands. At four a.m., she finally threw back the covers, showered and drove to work before the sun even capped the horizon. Thankfully, LM was a ghost town at six in the morning and she flew in under the radar, earning nothing more than a mildly surprised look from the night watch staff.
But now a quick glance at her watch confirmed the time. Eight o’clock on the button. Her admittedly depressing solitude was about to come to an abrupt halt. She didn’t know if she should feel upset or relieved.
Perfect Persuasion (Love's Second Chance Book 2) Page 17