by Mia Madison
I scroll down, and there’s one more picture of them I haven’t seen, but also two of Alice and a woman who is not Emma. My heart thumps. I take the comments down.
They don’t belong on the page, but it’s as if I’m going through the motions of removing any kind of inappropriate content, as if the whole thing hadn’t knocked the wind out of me. It’s the text with the pictures which upsets me the most. “Boxing Day with my baby and Firefighter Logan Patterson.”
I can’t believe what I saw. I don’t want to believe. I want to take another look, but I deleted the comments already.
It doesn’t matter. I know I’m not mistaken. His ex-wife, or someone who knows her, posted those pictures. Logan and his ex and Alice at Christmas. He didn’t mention a word to me about any of it. That he’d seen her. That they’d taken pictures. She looked quite normal to me, a pretty blond woman. Not an addict living in a sleazy hovel.
I text him. “When were you going to tell me about your ex-wife coming back on the scene?”
I sit there for the afternoon, not knowing what to do. Logan doesn’t even answer.
When it’s time to go home, Dad catches me in tears. I thought he had gone. To his credit, he just asks “Logan?” and when I nod, he doesn’t say “I told you so.” He says he’ll drive me home. We can pick up my car anytime. “I don’t want you driving in that state. It’s icy, and the conditions are getting worse.”
He’s right. It’s snowing heavily now, and the wind has turned that into a blizzard, making it difficult to see on the road. But I don’t care about the weather right now. It can snow all it wants.
Why didn’t I just do what I said I was going to do and have fun, not take any guy seriously? Why did I have to trust Logan? Why did I fall in love with him so fast? Stupid, stupid me.
I follow Dad out to the car. Logan is waiting by mine, his thick jacket covered in snow, his hair soaking. I ignore him. He can wait all he likes.
“Please, Tia,” he says, his words barely reaching me due to the driving snow. “Let me explain.”
I stop. I should just go home with Dad. But when I hear the pleading note in Logan’s voice, I can’t just turn my back and leave him there standing in the blizzard.
And I have to know the worst. Then I can draw a line through yet another relationship. I should get a prize for being the biggest failure at picking men on the planet. My picker is well and truly faulty. Fucked, as Cassie would say. I wish I had her advice right now.
“Don’t drive home yourself,” Dad says. “If you have to speak to Logan, I’ll just wait.”
“No, Dad. I don’t know how long I’ll be.” I can’t have him watching, interfering. “I’ll get a taxi.”
“Make Logan drive you home, then. He’s trained for the conditions.”
I can’t believe Dad is not making more fuss about Logan upsetting me.
I think he catches me looking at him. He shrugs. “You should have seen the fights I had with your mother in the early days. I know you won’t take any crap. I brought you up better than that.”
I go over to Logan. “Where’s Alice?” I ask. I’m afraid he’s going to say she’s with her mother, that the ground has shifted far from the story he told me and I believed, but he doesn’t.
“She’s been with Emma all day, and she’s going to stay there tonight. I thought it was better not to bring her out in the snow. I had to see you.”
“You can see me now.”
“Can we go somewhere and talk?”
“Do I want to hear what you have to say?”
“I hope so. My car?” he asks.
I nod. I can hardly breathe, fearful what he’s going to say. He puts the heater on, and it’s only then I notice how cold I am, how rigidly I’ve been holding myself. My legs are shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted to keep you out of this.”
“That’s clear. How could you? I thought we were being honest with each other. I thought I could trust you.”
“You can.”
“How can I? Your ex-wife, Logan! The one you told me was addicted to alcohol, maybe to drugs. You were with her at Christmas, taking photos, being a family. You know how I feel about that. If she’s still around, there’s no room for me. I’m not going to get in the way if you’re getting back together.”
“There’s no way that’s going to happen. She just turned up at Emma’s the day after Christmas, when we all had our guard down. When the doorbell sounded, she was the last person I expected to see, believe me. She said she was trying to get clean, and she wanted to see her daughter. I didn’t have the heart to turn her away at Christmas.”
“You didn’t say a word. That hurts, Logan.”
“I know. I should have told you right away. I didn’t know what to make of her. How to describe the change in her, why she’d shown up, exactly, because I didn’t really believe her. Not deep down. But was that just me remembering what she did in the past? I didn’t know. I wanted to work it out before I told you. But then we did work it out, and I wanted to forget she had ever turned up.”
“Oh?”
“The day after she came and went, Emma noticed one of her rings was missing, and money from her purse. Quite a lot of money. While Philippa was pretending she wanted to see Alice, snapping pictures, playing at being a reformed alcoholic and mother, she was looking for what she could steal.”
“But why did she post the pictures on the station Facebook page? What was the point of that?”
“Is that how you found out she showed up? She posted the pictures she took at Emma’s house?”
“Yes.”
“She’s such a bitch. Emma told her about you. I think she was worried that Philippa was trying to get back in with me too, that she hadn’t shown up just to see Alice. Emma has seen the hell I went through with my marriage breaking up. And you know about protective family members, right?”
I have to smile at that. “Right.”
“Philippa feigned interest, asked how I met you. Looks like she still hates me for not falling to pieces when she left. I guess she wanted more revenge than trying to spoil Christmas for me and my sister. But I should have told you myself. I’m so sorry. By not wanting to upset you, I made everything worse. I thought she’d done what she came to do, take what wasn’t hers and that was that. And we wouldn’t hear from her until the next time she wanted something. It could have been years, or never at all with her track record.”
“What about today? Why didn’t you answer me? I was worried, Logan.”
“She showed up again on Emma’s doorstep, as if that would work a second time with my sister. But this time she was drunk, and she’d taken a lot of pills so that might explain why she wasn’t thinking straight. Maybe she posted those pictures as a final act of revenge. I don’t know. Emma called an ambulance, and then she called me.”
“Oh my god. Where is Philippa now?”
“In the Western General hospital. She’ll live. So everything you thought you were getting with me just got a whole heap worse. She’s not my responsibility, but she’ll probably keep showing up. Just tell me if this is all too much for you.”
“It’s not too much. It’s not your fault, Logan. It doesn’t change how I feel about you. I just want you to promise me that you’ll share everything that happens, the good and the bad. Don’t keep stuff from me.”
“You’ll hear everything the minute it happens from now on. I love you, Emma. I’m sorry I hurt you by not telling you.”
My heart pounds in my chest, hearing his words. “You love me?”
“I do. I should have told you that sooner, too.”
“When did you know?”
“The Christmas party. That first kiss. Maybe before that.”
I laugh. “You were just in lust then. You couldn’t possibly have loved me that quickly.”
“Maybe. But look what lust turned into.”
He kisses me. And it’s perfect. As always.
“Yes, it turned into something great
. I love you too, Logan Patterson.”
“I thought I’d never hear you say it. Not after I got your text today.”
“Me neither. But here we are in a blizzard outside the fire station, and I’m saying it.”
CHAPTER 22
Logan
I take Tia home, and she texts her dad on the way to let him know she’s safe.
When we arrive back at my place, I phone Emma to check on Alice. All’s quiet on the western front. I say I’ll pick her up in the morning.
And then it’s our time. Time for Tia and me.
“What do you want first?” I ask her as I take her coat and hang it up. She looks as sexy as ever in the green office skirt that hugs her hips. “Lust or love?”
“Like I said, lust comes first. Maybe not always. But definitely with you.” She giggles.
“Lust it is.”
She laughs again. She thinks I’m kidding.
But I’m deadly serious.
“Turn around.”
She sucks in a breath. And then she turns against the kitchen counter. My pants feel tight around my cock. I pull her black sweater off over her head and then wrench open her blouse, buttons popping everywhere. She gasps, her breath heaving. I pull down the cups of her bra and grab at her tits, pinching her nipples, making her call out with need.
She’s wearing knee high black leather boots and black opaque tights under her skirt. Perfect! I pull the hem of her skirt up, bunching it around her waist, and yank her tights and panties down in one go.
“You want this?” I ask her. I know she does. She’s raising her ass to me. “Are you wet for me? Tell me you want it.”
“I want it. I want you, Logan, I want you.”
I pull out my cock and position myself at her entrance. Fuck! She’s soaking. I plunge into her in one hard thrust.
She squeals, and I power into her over and over, against the counter. It’s a wonder the thing doesn’t give way. The dishes I left there earlier, on the other hand, rattle with the force of our coupling and threaten to topple onto the floor. Neither of us cares about a few plates. She’s squirming and shrieking beneath me, clawing at the counter as I ram into her without mercy for her or me.
“You want it harder?”
“Yes,” she manages.
“You’re a very bad girl.”
“Very bad. So bad.”
I plow into her again and again, grabbing her hair and burying my face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of her, her body so hot and wet and tight, it drives me crazy with need. As I feel my climax approaching, I try to delay it by thinking of anything but her, what we’re doing, how this looks here in the kitchen, but I can’t. It’s too amazing to want to focus elsewhere. Not a fucking chance in hell.
As she spasms and contracts around me, calling out her pleasure, I feel every pulse of her body driving me on, and all I can do is growl as I release deep inside her, spurt after spurt.
I hold her for a moment as we regain our composure, and then she looks over her shoulder at me and says, “What would have happened if I chose the love option?”
“The same.” And we both laugh.
“Take me to bed,” she says.
“Right.” I pick her up. “You want more?”
“Yes,” she says. “But I need a fireman’s lift first. I never had one of those.”
I throw her over my shoulder and spank her bottom, just once. Does she like that?
“Bad girls get put to bed.”
She laughs. “Maybe I’ll do more bad things then. Very bad things.”
“You want a real spanking?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then we’ll have fun finding out.” I put her down in front of me and tuck her hair behind her ear. “Seriously, I want to know everything about you. In bed and out.”
“A girl has to have some secrets.”
“Not in bed she doesn’t. I want to know everything that turns you on.”
“Everything?” Her eyes are wide.
“Everything. And if you won’t tell, it will have to be plan B.”
“What’s that?”
“Try everything and see. It might take some time.”
“We’ve got all night. Better get started…”
*
We don’t get much sleep. As the snow comes down outside, I make all kinds of happy discoveries about Tia that put a smile on her face and mine. We’re pretty much exhausted by morning. Exhausted but happy.
She lies in my arms, so soft against me. I want nothing to spoil what we have.
“We could always emigrate to Australia or something,” I say, thinking out loud. “Philippa wouldn’t reach us there. And the weather is better.”
“Dad will kill you if you take me halfway across the world.”
“We could take your dad too.” I’m only half kidding. “But we would have to take Emma and all her brood as well, and your friend Cassie and her family, so maybe not for the sake of one crazy, drunken ex-wife.”
“Far easier to stay here and never move,” she says. “Though a person could always use some breakfast. If you feel like moving in the direction of the kitchen.”
I kiss her, and throw on a t-shirt and boxers. Anything for her.
Peeking out from behind the curtain, I look out of the window, or try to. The snow has piled up outside. “I think we might be cut off from the world and have to be dug out.”
“We’d better make the most of it before we get rescued,” she says. “After breakfast, though.”
“Toast, OJ and coffee coming up.”
“Excellent. I think I depleted my energy stores.” She laughs.
“You know, I can’t think of a better person I’d want be holed up with.”
“Me neither. On the other hand, if I’m in a hole,” she says, “and there’s rescuing to be done, I would rather be rescued by you than trust my luck to some stranger.”
EPILOGUE
Tia
I get the job at Smithson Marketing and the vibe around the office is great there, just as I expected. I miss being responsible for a whole project like I was at the fire station, but I need more experience before I start out on my own, and I’m happy to get it there.
Alice is full of mischief, into everything, but I love helping Logan out with her when I can. She calls the toy I gave her Tia-dog now, and I am just Tia. Emma appreciates another pair of hands at times, too. She says I’m a natural with Alice, but the little one is easy to love.
Even Cassie took a shine to her when we bumped into each other in town when I was with Logan and Alice. Cassie is getting on well at the bank, but we haven’t moved in together yet. We haven’t even talked about it lately. I think she’s hoping to move in with her guy, Ben. And I guess I’d like to live with Logan. But neither of us wants to say we’re definitely not going to be roommates. In any case, we still have our girl’s nights out, our chats, our days out shopping and gossiping.
Logan’s wife is getting help. She has good months and bad months. But she seems to have accepted I’m there to stay, and she hasn’t tried to see Alice again. I worry how Alice will feel about that in the future, but for now, she has all the love in the world from Logan and his family and from me.
Dad is still unsure about me being with Logan because of his past, but I can see that won’t always be the case. I think seeing me so happy has helped Dad to feel better about the whole thing. He even went as far as to say, “I always knew Logan was a good guy. He might even be good for you.”
“What you mean is no one will ever be good enough,” I say, smiling.
“Yes.” He grins at me, and I give him a hug. That’s my dad. “It’s about time he married you, though.”
“Dad! We’ve only been dating six months.”
“Same as I was dating your mother.”
“Really? You said it was too soon with Simon, and I was with him two years before he proposed.”
“I never liked Simon. Ten years wouldn’t have been long enough.”
“Oh, Dad.”
“I care about your future happiness. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No. It’s just you can’t dictate it.”
“Shame.”
I laugh and hug him again.
Logan will be here soon to pick me up.
“Where shall we go tonight?” I ask. Every date with Logan is special so I don’t really care what we do. Dinner, movie, walk in the park, bed. It’s all good.
“I thought I’d take you to where we first met.”
I have to think for a minute because that’s not really a prime dating venue. “To the storm drain in the High Street?”
“The very place.”
“What for?”
“It’s like an old friend. I salute it or give it a wave whenever I pass if no one’s looking. Is that ridiculous?”
I laugh. “Sometimes, I look at it and wonder if you’d have talked to me if you hadn’t rescued me from it.”
“I would. I just wouldn’t have had such a good excuse. We’d have found each other somehow.”
“What are we going to do when we get there?”
“Have a drink.”
At first, I think he means beside the drain. And I’m just about to say he’s really has lost it, when I realize he must be talking about the pub, the “Dog and Duck,” that’s next to it.
But when we turn the corner into the High Street, I see a little table set up at the side of the road, covered in a cloth, complete with champagne on ice and two glasses. The barman from the pub is standing on guard, and when he sees us, he pops the cork and starts pouring the wine.
“That’s for us, isn’t it? You really are crazy,” I say to Logan.
“That’s why you love me.”
“I love you despite your craziness, not because of it.” And he laughs.
He parks the car at the side of the road and helps me out. The barman hands each of us a glass and steps back. A few onlookers gather. This is a curious enough sight even for the people of Bexford, apparently this is as much of an attraction as a girl needing to be rescued from a storm drain.