“That’s, uh—sure. I mean, okay. Thanks.”
I couldn’t hide my smile at the relief in his voice as I continued to murmur to Bella.
Logan sat beside me and watched his dog with anxious eyes.
“I take it you didn’t know she was pregnant?” I asked to break the tension.
“No.” He heaved a sigh. “She’d been hanging around my house for a few weeks—looked like hell, all dirty and grimy and skinny. I finally took her in two weeks ago. I posted some fliers and online about her, talked to the local shelters, but no one was looking for her. I should’ve taken her to a shelter, but I just couldn’t…”
I hummed in agreement. There was the “right thing” to do, and then there was what you could live with. I totally understood. If anything, I was a bit surprised to hear that this asshole still had some tender feelings locked up in his dark shell somewhere. Still, I couldn’t resist the urge to tease. “Maybe next time, take her to a vet, at least.”
“I thought she was just getting fat from finally eating. I had no idea she was pregnant.”
I bit back the urge to mention Bella’s enlarged nipples. Logan was clearly beating himself up about this. “I take it whelping wasn’t covered in your firefighting school? I thought you guys took some first aid classes.”
“I hadn’t gotten my EMT cert yet. I was taking fire science. It covers fire suppression, prevention, code inspection—shit like that.”
“In hindsight, maybe a class or two on emergency first aid might’ve been good too.”
Logan snorted a laugh for the second time that day. “The vet said that we most likely won’t have to do anything. He gave me a few tips for when the puppies come, but Bella should take care of everything else until then.”
A comfortable silence fell between us. It almost felt like I was talking to the Logan I knew from before. But I could still see the large warning sign blinking overhead. This was a shaky truce at best.
No doubt he’d be back to his asshole self tomorrow.
Bella groaned and strained again. I wanted to jump in and help her, but I knew Logan and his vet were right.
I sighed as we watched her. “I always wanted to be a vet, you know.”
“I didn’t.” Logan settled in beside me and sent me a slight smile. “You’re smart enough, and you went to college. Why didn’t you do it?”
“Too much school. I did minor in Biological Science though.” I shrugged, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. Why did I start us down this road? “It was pretty clear the guys weren’t going to college, but still, we didn’t have much money. And I didn’t want to go into debt, so I decided to take something that would help everyone. You know, support the family and all that. It just made sense.”
“Meaning you sacrificed your dream so your family could all live theirs out? That’s bullshit.”
“Did I ask your opinion about my life?” I’d finally found my fighting spirit earlier today. I was done being his weird, emotional punching bag. “Besides it’s not like you’re out living your dream. Installing fire suppression systems is a far cry from being a fire fighter.”
“Like I had a fucking choice!” Logan jumped to his feet and turned as he lifted his shirt high, showing me the melted scar tissue that had been his left shoulder, arm, and back. “No squad in the whole fucking state will take me on like this. I can’t pass a single fucking physical fitness test. So I don’t want to hear about not living your dreams like you had no choice. I have no choice. None.”
Silence rang after his passioned speech. I didn’t know what to say to him. I’d kinda guessed about his injury since some of it was visible on his neck, but still. I knew how much he wanted to be a firefighter. I could guess how much it hurt him to lose out on his dream.
Finally, I whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t.” He shook his head with a disgusted expression. “Fuck, I hate that phrase. Travis is right. It doesn’t mean shit.”
“Was Travis…” I knew he’d been going to fight wildland fires with Logan and Jay. “Was Travis hurt too?”
“Hurt too.” Logan mocked with a scary expression. “We were the only ones to walk out of that fucking fire alive. Although technically, we were carried.” He snorted like it was a funny joke.
Something about his expression made me pause.
And then I’d realized what that’d meant. Logan and Travis were the only survivors.
But three of them left to fight fires together.
“What about Jay?”
And just like that, the fire left Logan’s eyes and they were dead again. “Jay was DOA. There was hardly enough left for a memorial.”
“No. He couldn’t.” Tears burned my eyes as I remembered Logan’s friend. The way they teased each other. The way Jay had looked at his girlfriend, Vanessa. “He had to have made it out. I scoured all the news reports. There wasn’t a single mention of a firefighter named Jay anywhere. I would’ve seen it.”
“His legal name is Rhys Jason Maher Jr, but he’d always gone by Jay since his dad’s Rhys too. He was interred at St. Mary’s. Travis and I missed the service. We were in that damn hospital in Washington. We were laid up in hospitals for the better part of a year between burn wards and physio rehab.”
I winced. Logan’s factual delivery of his horrific history felt like a physical blow. I couldn’t imagine going through all that—the fire, losing your best friend, being in hospitals for a year. It explained so much about the Logan who showed up here a week ago.
And yet, while he’d been going through all that he’d never once tried to call me or reach out.
Did he think I wasn’t the kind of person he could lean on?
Ouch.
That hurt. But had to be a drop in the bucket compared to the pain that Logan carried around on a daily basis. He was a walking, talking war wound.
I wish there was something I could do to help him, but I knew he’d back away or emotionally slap me down quicker than I could blink.
And I’d been beat up enough this weekend. I didn’t think I could take another verbal hit.
The next one might just break me.
Chapter Six
Logan
I hated seeing that look in her eyes—the mixture of pain, pity, and disappointment. I’d seen it in so many over the past two years. My mom. My dad. My sister. The nurses in the burn ward. Vanessa. And now Sabrina.
I’d done everything I could to push them all away. Everyone except Vanessa. I couldn’t bring myself to be an ass to her. Hell, it was my fault she was a single parent.
And now it was my fault that I’d accidentally strung her along. Between the shit with Vanessa and Sabrina showing up like a ghost from my past, I couldn’t take a step without having my old life shoved in my face.
Last month, I’d felt like I might be finally climbing out of the hole, and here I was sitting at the bottom again. Maybe there really was no point in trying.
“Have you thought about what you’re going to do with a nursing dog and however many puppies she has tonight?”
Sabrina’s whispered question tore me out of my morose thoughts. “What?”
Bella groaned, breaking my heart all over again. Poor baby.
Sabrina’s eyes were soft as she stared at the laboring dog. “You’ll want to have an area for them at your house—bedding, newspaper, or weewee pads. Six or eight dogs are going to make a mess if you don’t contain them somehow, and even then…”
“Right.” I thought about the smallish dog bed I’d bought a few weeks back. She’d definitely need something bigger. “What are weewee pads?”
“Seriously, Logan?” Sabrina’s soft, throaty laughter made my lips curve too. “It’s pretty self-explanatory—like butt plug—you just put the words together.”
“Butt plug?” Laughter sputtered out of me. “You’ve gotten way kinkier since we were together.”
And just like that the smile fell off Sabrina’s face. She turned back to Bella. “Yea
h, well. What can I say? It’s been two years.”
I grunted in agreement. It had been. Two long, torturous years for me. I’d been surprised to learn when I’d came back that Sabrina was still single. Why hadn’t someone snapped her up? She was gorgeous, generous, and smart as hell. And now something of a reality star. “Gotta say, it shocked the hell out of me when I turned the channel while I was in physio and saw you. Little Sabrina Wagner on reality tv. Never thought I’d see the day.”
“You’re a fan of the show? I thought you hated reality tv. What did you call it?” She tilted her head like she was thinking deeply. ‘A waste of brain cells and time?’ Did I get that right?”
I shrugged. “What can I say? Rehab was hell, and escaping into whatever they put on the tv helped some of the hours go by.”
Sabrina sucked in a breath like my words had hurt her.
And even though it’d been my MO since running into her again, I didn’t like being the one who made her hurt. So I finished lamely, “I can see why they wanted you on the show.”
She snorted. “It’s not like I had a choice. The guys came up with the hairbrained scheme, and I was the sole nay vote. I just try like hell to stay away from the camera crew. Fortunately, my life’s not very exciting. The production team doesn’t want film of me doing paperwork.”
“Not many people’s lives can compare to your brothers’. Especially Ryan getting his ass kicked by that biker gang. That was crazy.”
“It was scary. Ryan owes his life to the production team. If our producer, James, hadn’t been here working late that night, they might have killed Ry.” Her breath hitched as her eyes clouded. “And still, we almost lost him.”
Sure, Ryan owed the producer for scaring the fuckers off, but that didn’t stop the son of a bitch from filming the attack, or the Urban channel from airing it.
The whole incident turned my stomach. Especially when the camera had zoomed in on Sabrina crying in the hospital. I found that more disgusting that the actual attack. Her family’s grief shouldn’t have been televised for everyone’s consumption. The thought of someone filming me in my hospital bed after the fire —? It was invasive and repellant.
“Look!” Sabrina squealed, pointing at Bella.
Sure enough, a tiny head poked out of the dog. Bella grunted, straining. And with another push, the teeny puppy was free.
“Aww! It’s so cute.” Sabrina cooed before wiping at her suspiciously wet eyes. Then she made a face. “And kinda gross too.”
The tiny puppy was covered in a thin membrane that looked like plastic wrap. Bella craned her neck to lick at the gunk covering the pup. Once it was clean, Bella gnawed at the umbilical cord. Sabrina groaned, and I almost had to look away. But I kept watching to make sure Bella didn’t need any help like the vet had advised during our phone call. Now free, the pup wiggled around until it could reach one of Bella’s distended nipples. It made an almost purring sound when it finally found a nipple.
“Guess the ol’ dog has it all in hand.” I laughed softly even as my heart twinged at the sweet scene. Maybe that organ wasn’t dead like I’d thought. “We’re pretty much just spectators at this point.”
Sabrina didn’t reply.
“Sabrina?” I swiveled and found the spot next to me empty.
Was she really that grossed out by the labor and afterbirth? Bella whined, and I turned back to watch my dog strain again, apparently already starting with puppy number two.
Pop.
I flinched and whipped around to find Sabrina grinning from ear to ear with an opened bottle of champagne in her hands. She chucked the cork in the direction of a large garbage can and grabbed two red plastic cups. After filling each one, she shoved one in my direction. “Here. We keep a few bottles on hand for client reveals. If ever there was a reason for a toast, it’s gotta be this, right? To celebrate new life, hope, all that positive jazz?”
We’d developed an uneasy allegiance as we’d waited for Bella to whelp her puppies, but I didn’t know if I was ready to drink with Sabrina. That implied a level of comradery I wasn’t sure was safe. I didn’t want her to get any ideas.
Like Vanessa had.
“Come on,” Sabrina cajoled. “I promise tomorrow we’ll be back to hating each other again. Like that cartoon with the sheepdog and the coyote.”
I had to smile at that. I loved my old school Warner Bros cartoons. “Fine. But not too much. I gotta drive all these animals back to my place tonight.”
Famous last words.
Three hours, two bottles of champagne, and five puppies later, Bella seemed to be done laboring, and Sabrina and I were three sheets to the wind.
I sighed as I stared at my exhausted dog and her five teeny puppies. They might be brand new, but they were close in that way that only family could be. I bumped my shoulder against Sabrina’s. “I know I gave you shit about being a reality tv star, but I gotta say I envy you.”
“Really?” Sabrina made an adorable snorting sound. “What happened to you hating reality tv?”
“I did—I do—but I envy your family. The way they’re always there for whoever needs it. That’s pretty awesome.”
“Was… I know you said your parents are divorced and your sister lives in Bakersfield—I think—but were they not there for you after…you know?”
“As much as I’d let them.” I shrugged, the champagne making my body feel languid and my tongue looser than usual. “I don’t really remember much of the first few months. I was heavily sedated for a long while. That really fucks with your head, by the way. When I did finally wake up, they were there. But it’s not like there was anything they could do for me in the hospital. It was fucking depressing and sterile and just whatever. I didn’t want them watching the nurses change my bandages or go along with me to physio. They had to get back to their lives and jobs, so it’s whatever.”
Sabrina watched me with those achingly tender blue eyes. “That’s horrible, Logan.”
Something about her expression and tone hit me deep inside. And made me uncomfortable. “Hey, everyone has to have a life. And it’s not like I made it easy for them to stay.”
“You pushed them away just like you’ve been doing with me.”
I laughed lightly. “So now you know not to take it personally.”
She watched me with those wise eyes like she could see all the things that I’d spent two years trying to keep anyone from suspecting. Then she blinked, looked away, and the moment was gone. “It’s not like my family is the epitome of functional.”
I snorted. “You don’t have to tell me that. I watched all last season.”
“I don’t mean how my brothers sometimes use their fists instead of their words.” Sabrina rolled her eyes like that was a normal thing in every family. “But one thing the cameras didn’t catch is that my father isn’t dead.”
“Wait. What?” I vividly remembered Sabrina telling me when we were dating that her father had died before she was born.
“Yup. I found out yesterday when he showed up at my mom’s restaurant. He didn’t die in an accident with a drunk driver before I was born. My mom made that shit up and turned his death into some fucked up morality play to keep me from drinking when I was a teen. She used it on my brothers too. It was all bullshit. What a loving family, huh? Cheers.” She lifted her red cup and drained the rest in one gulp.
“So who is he? Where’s he been your whole life?”
Sabrina moved her shoulders like she had an itch she couldn’t reach. “I don’t know. I haven’t talked to him yet.”
“Seriously? I thought you’d be all over that.” The woman was one of the most tenacious I knew. No way she’d just roll over and hide her head in the sand. That wasn’t Sabrina.
“Yeah, I guess it’s taking me a minute to come to terms with the fact that my whole fucking life has been a lie.” She swiped suspiciously at her eyes. But she couldn’t be crying—her voice sounded too flat and matter of fact. “I thought you of all people would get that.”
<
br /> “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on. You’ve spent the better part of two years pushing everyone you know and love away from you because you survived when most of your crew didn’t. It doesn’t take a psychologist to see that you have a serious fucking case of survivor’s guilt.”
“Fuck you.” She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about.
“Already have.” Her smile looked more like a snarl. “Wouldn’t mind having one last throw though.”
“You’re fucking nuts.”
“Takes one to know one.”
I snorted a laugh. Christ, how could she be so cute while being all angry and plastered?
“I’ve heard that angry sex is hot. Maybe we should try it.”
I about swallowed my tongue when she said that. While I was busy sputtering, she leaned over and kissed me. Her hand cupped the side of my face as her lips covered mine.
Contrary to her angry words, she was just as soft and delicious as I remembered. She moaned deep in her throat, and I lost it. I took control of the kiss, moving my lips over hers, relearning everything I forgot I knew about her.
I pulled her onto me until she straddled me then pulled her face down to mine so I could kiss her some more. While I was busy kissing her, our hands roamed. I had my hands full of her amazing tits and was thinking about the best way to get her bra off. Because I loved her breasts. They were gorgeous and soft and just everything. I had to have more.
Sabrina must’ve thought the same since her hands raked down my back, her nails scoring my skin under my shirt.
I stiffened.
That used to be something I loved, but not anymore. I couldn’t bear to even look at that part of me in the mirror, let alone touch it. I sure as hell didn’t want her to feel my fucked-up skin.
A prickling sensation swept over my scalp and my body heated in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol or the gorgeous woman on my lap. I pulled back and gulped to keep the champagne down.
Spark: A Bad Boy's Second Chance Romance (Burns Brothers Book 3) Page 5