by Lane Martin
I didn’t recognize my own voice when I asked, “Who is Chris Wheeler?”
“Son of a bitch.” Logan released me, and when I turned to face him, he was pacing the small living area with his hand pulling at his hair. He avoided looking at me, seconds passed. How did I know? Because the room was silent except for our combined breaths and the swishing sound of the second hand on the clock that hung on the wall. “Sit fucking down Libby,” he finally cursed after an eternity had passed. OK, that’s an exaggeration, it was only sixteen seconds. Normally I wasn’t a fan of people telling me what to do, but in this case, I thought sitting was probably a good idea. I sat in the single chair, in hindsight maybe that wasn’t the best place to sit because instead of sitting next to me on the couch, he was forced to sit on the coffee table right in front of me. His brown eyes stormed with emotion; a mix of anger, shock, pain, and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. I held his gaze; his Adam’s apple bobbed. He reached for my hands, but I pulled them back out of his reach. Hurt shown back, as he swallowed hard and retrieved the chip from his pocket. I watched as he rubbed the worn metal, pausing just before telling me, “Chris was my brother.” Instantly my eyes found his. My chest tightened. “He’s in jail for murder, and I’m the one that put him there.”
I didn’t know what was more shocking, the fact that he had a brother I knew nothing of or the fact that said brother was serving time behind bars. For murder no less, and Logan was somehow responsible. I had so many questions; I didn’t even know where to start. “I don’t understand.”
“Me either. How do you even know about Chris?” Was that why he was angry? Because I knew his dirty little secret? I couldn’t believe it. I tried to get up from my seat, but he boxed me in by leaning forward and placing his hands on the armrest of the chair.
“Don’t put this on me, Logan. You’re the one who has been lying. I don’t even know who you are.” Both of us were tense. I knew I needed some time and space to digest all of this. I also needed food and sleep. “I’m tired and hungry. Can we finish this in the morning?” Why did that sound so final? Logan stood and held his hand out for me. Even in his anger, he was always taking care of me, of us.
“I’ll make you something.” I knew better than to argue, so I took my seat at the counter while he made his way to the fridge. It took everything for me not to bawl when he put his head against the stainless steel appliance and just stared at the ultrasound picture that hung on the door. I lost the fight when he pressed his lips to the photo and vowed: “I’m going to fix this.” I honestly didn’t know who he was talking to; me, the baby, or maybe even himself.
His back was to me; the eggs were cracked against the side of the bowl before he began to tell his story. “Chris was two years older than me. He was a great big brother. One day when I was nine, and he was eleven, dad never came home from work. We didn’t have much, but we did have each other. In one day, something can happen that changes your entire world.” With that last sentence, he stood taller and raised his head to the sky, as if thanking someone above. There was no use in trying to stop the tears now. His shoulders slumped again as he began to whisk. “Chris lost his childhood that day and mom; she just lost it altogether. Chris started hanging out with the wrong crowd, and mom started drinking.” The sobriety chip he always carried. “We lived off government aid in a roach-infested one-bedroom apartment. Our neighbor, “mi Abuela” was the only reason I stayed out of trouble.” It was clear in how he intoned her name how important she was to him. “When I was thirteen, mom got sick. She got sober, but it was too late. She died when I was fourteen.” Oh fuck. I couldn’t just sit there any longer. My stool teetered to the ground as I rounded the corner, wrapping my arms around him from behind like he did me earlier.
“Stop,” I begged. I didn’t know that I could stand to hear the rest. Logan was trembling. Hell, I was shaking too, and I’d never cried so many tears in my entire life. This man, whose broken heart was inked on his chest. A constant reminder of all the loves he’d lost. The same heart that was now stitched and had been given wings, but to fly he would first need to let it all go.
“Let’s go to bed.” The batter he was mixing be damned.
“Lib. His voice cracked in defeat as I lead him to our bedroom. “I can’t go to sleep without knowing that you’ll be here when I finish telling you everything.”
I couldn’t speak. I didn’t know what to say, but I could show Logan I would be here for him.
I felt like I’d been living on borrowed time since the second she’d breathed my brother’s name. I didn’t talk about my past. Ever. Somehow, I’d made it out. I had no desire to re-live it or even remember it. It may have been where I came from, but it had no bearing on who I was now. The problem was, Libby wasn’t the kind of girl who was okay with not knowing, and honestly, Sterling may have fixed the tattoo heart that was etched in my skin, but just because the tattoo was repaired didn’t mean my heart instantly was too. Even with Libby by my side it still hurt.
Our room was dark. It was probably better I couldn’t see the anguished look on my sexy chef’s face, knowing it was there was bad enough. And in the dark, I could hide my red puffy eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Without words, I undressed him before undressing myself. I led him into the small bathroom and chastised myself for complaining about its size, imagining the place where Logan grew up. Our apartment was clean and warm. It was free of bug infestation. I couldn’t fathom a young Logan living in those conditions with a drunk for a mother. Don’t even get me started on his father; his photo might be right next to Edward’s when you look up deadbeat dad. Who just up and leaves two young boys and a wife?
“Lib.” I placed my finger over his mouth to shush him as I led him into the shower. Right then he didn’t need to explain anymore. Right then, I needed him to know I was there for him. Like he’d been for me in a million tiny ways since we met. I shouldn’t have questioned him or the kind of man he was. He’d held my hair while I prayed to the porcelain gods. He’d run out to get me a mango smoothie with no sleep because I’d mentioned a craving. Despite a shitty start to life, Logan Wheeler was a good man. Nothing he could ever tell me would change that. Logan tipped his head back, getting his hair wet while I pumped some of his shampoo into my hand. He bent at the knees so I could lather his hair. I spent extra time massaging his scalp, and he groaned in satisfaction when I finished. His body was next, and I soaped every inch of him. I knew I couldn’t wash away his past. Nothing could, but what I could do, was show him he was special to me despite it. He turned his back to me, but before I began with the soap again, I pressed my lips to the phoenix rising inked across his shoulder blades.
“Still I rise,” I whispered before kissing him once more.
He turned to face me, “What did I ever do to deserve you, Libby?” His voice was reverent as he first pressed a kiss to my forehead before finding my lips in the darkened room. My need for him was undeniable, and I tried to take what I wanted, but Logan let me have my moment. Now it was his turn. He washed me like I did him, thankfully his pace was much faster than mine. I wished he would just take me there, against the wall or from behind. Trust me, I tried. “Bed baby.” It was nice to hear the chuckle in his voice, but what was even better to hear was the slap of his hand across my bottom as I wiggled it shamelessly in front of him. “That’s where this is going to happen. In our bed, where I can show you just how much you mean to me.” Have mercy; shower time was over.
After drying off, I slipped naked between the sheets while Logan took his time lighting candles before going to the other room. “Hey,” as much as I was enjoying watching Logan’s retreating form aglow from the mood lighting, I wanted him in the bed with me.
“Good things come to those who wait.” Yeah, well turnabout was fair play. So, while Logan was doing god knows what in the other room, I quickly repositioned the pillows and moved to the middle of the bed. Legs bent and spread open with my fingers twisting my nipples was where he found me. I was dripping wet, and i
t wasn’t because of the shower.
“Oh fuck,” Logan appeared in the doorway with a tray in his hand. It wobbled as he took me in.
“That’s the plan.” Multiple times if you’re lucky. When Logan put the tray down, I noticed he had the honey, strawberries, and whip cream, my surprise for him. Yummy and fun. The primal look on Logan’s face told me that would wait for later. He moved to the end of the bed, gloriously naked and ready for action. I pulled at my already hardened nipples, and he groaned while he licked his bottom lip. A bead of cum glistened on his tip. “Are you just going to stand there and watch?” I asked as I began to trail my hands down my body.
“As fun as that would be, I’m more of a hands-on kind of guy.” I didn’t know what turned me on more, the idea of him watching me or knowing exactly what he was capable of doing to me. I squirmed and moved my hands lower, but before I reached the Promised Land, Logan grabbed me by the ankles and pulled me to the end of the bed. In one fluid move, he was on his knees, my legs were thrown over his shoulders and his tongue, oh god his tongue. He teased me with up and down flicks before he got serious and lifted me like I weighed nothing and put a pillow under my hips.
“Oh shit,” I whimpered breathlessly as my hips ground against his face when he picked up his pace.
“I could eat this pussy forever. Touch it, baby. Fuck your sweet cunt with me.” His dirty request had me teetering on the edge. Who was I to deny Logan, or myself for the matter? My fingers found my hood, and I pulled it back. Logan changed his tongue motions from up and down to side to side. He took advantage of having both of his hands free. He slid one finger deep inside of me before riming my backdoor. I’d never been a fan of dusky star action, doesn’t that sound much prettier than butthole, but Logan could do anything to me, and it would feel amazing. It was too much, my fingers and his tongue on my clit, his finger inside me hitting my G spot, and his other finger just inside my ass.
“Logan,” I screamed. I wouldn’t be surprised if all of the neighbors complained to the super tomorrow. Yeah, it was that loud. But he wasn’t done. He flipped me over and entered me effortlessly from behind, the pillow that was once under my hips serving as protection for my rounded tummy. There was just something about sticking your ass up the air and giving your partner complete control. Some may say that it’s not intimate; I disagreed. It was raw, gritty, and animalistic. Vulnerable even. I shook my ass as he thrust in short motions. That fucktard Edward thought hitting my cervix was the goal. Whoever taught Logan that G-Spot equals G-O-A-L should be canonized. A national holiday should be declared. O Day. Oh, yes. “Yes, yes, yes.” Once again, I was on a precipice of something huge.
“That’s it, baby. F-U-C-K, your pussy was made for me.” He playfully slapped my ass, and I swear I saw stars. It was the orgasm to end all orgasms. Logan continued to pump. “One more,” he declared before he reached around and pinched my clit. Jesus H. Christ. You know what they say, three times was a charm.
“I need to take you someplace. I need to tell you the rest.” I was curled around him. Last night had been both terrifying and wonderful. I’d never shared that kind of intimacy with anyone before. Like Bigfoot, I was starting to believe it didn’t exist.
“I don’t need to know anything else.” Honestly, I was fine just knowing what I already did. I got the feeling he didn’t share his past with many.
“You do. Get dressed. We’re going to Johnnies.” Couldn’t we just stay in bed? Adulting was overrated. I pressed my lips to his neck and slid my leg up his trying to convince him staying here was a much better idea. “Nice try babe, get dressed.” Boo. I sent a text to my sister telling her where we were going and what I needed from her.
Logan was quiet the entire ride to the restaurant. In one hand he held mine, and in the in the other, he flipped his one-year chip. Logan motioned for me to slip into the booth. He sat on the opposite side. He ordered coffee for himself and an OJ for me. The place was a retro luncheonette. “Sure thing sweetie.” The waitress said with a snap of her gum. Yeah, she fit right in.
Logan placed the metal medallion on the table and pushed it toward me. “After mom died, we were put in the system. Chris was sixteen and had already been in and out of juvie a couple of times. Our neighbor, mi Abuela, Mrs. Velasquez, tried to get us. But she was old, and the courts didn’t feel she could handle Chris. It pretty much sucked.” I placed the chip back in his palm and raised our still joined hands to my mouth and kissed him. “I guess you could say that was when everything changed.” The click-clack of heels coming toward us distracted me. My sister approached us, and she wasn’t alone. Brit, a longtime friend of Declan and Logan’s, was with her. The two women appeared to be on a mission. Emily slipped into the booth beside me, and Brit took the seat next to Logan.
“What are you lovely ladies doing here?” Was that relief or regret that flashed through his eyes?
“Reinforcements,” Brit confirmed before my sister secretly passed me the item I had asked her to bring me in my text. The waitress brought coffee for Emily and Brit. Dang, I miss coffee. It was my vice, so rather than try and limit myself to two cups a day; I’d decided to go cold turkey. What the hell was I thinking? Brit and Logan seemed to be having a silent conversation with their eyes. It pissed me off that everyone at the table but me seemed to know what was going on. Brit was a beautiful woman, but so was her girlfriend, Sadie. I had no reason to be jealous of her. Logan was mine, and I knew it.
Brit took a sip of her coffee before she began, “Declan and I have been coming here for years. I guess you could call it our spot. It was also where we first met Logan and his brother, Chris.” Okay…
“I was sixteen, and Chris called me all freaked out. He asked me to meet him here. He was my brother, so I snuck out of the group home I was living in.” Emily took my free hand in hers. Logan and I were still holding hands across the table, his mother’s chip between us. “He was trying to convince me to go with him. Join the gang he was running with.”
“It all happened so fast,” Brit added.
“One minute he was pleading with me and the next minute he was waving a gun around.” I gasped at the idea of Logan’s brother threatening him with a gun.
“Declan pushed me behind the counter.” I imaged a terrified young Brit crouching behind the dilapidated Formica counter as Logan tried to talk his brother down. “And then the dumbass tried to get himself killed.” After all these years, she still had awe in her voice when she talked about what her friend had done to try and make sure she was safe. “Crazy Chris as I like to call him, sorry Logan.” The nickname gave us all a reason to smile; it was brief but much needed.
“Chris clocked Declan with the butt of the gun. He was lights out when good old Johnnie came out of the kitchen to see what the commotion was all about. That’s when the gun fired, and Chris went running.” Holy shit. “He didn’t mean to kill Johnnie.” After everything, Logan still wanted to protect his brother.
My heart swelled with love and pride for the man whose hand I still held. “You stayed.”
“I couldn’t just take off like that. People were hurt. Declan and Johnnie didn’t do anything wrong.”
“Neither did you.” I reminded him.
“She’s right you know.” Brit agreed as she laid her head on Logan’s shoulder. Logan didn’t seem so sure. He needed a reminder he was a good man. The kind of man that doesn’t run. I let go of Emily’s hand and slid the card towards him on the table.
“What’s this?” he questioned.
“The ultrasound results,” I answered with a smile.
“But, Emily was doing a whole reveal party. Stashes or lashes or cupcake or stud muffin or something like that.” I should have known he was listening when Emily was going on and on about party ideas. I think that earns him a bonus BJ.
“She was still the first to know” I winked at my sister and she smiled and nodded.” You know, and I know the party was for Emily. Sorry, sis. This is for you. Besides, I want to hear from yo
u what we’re having.” Yes, I said we’re. This baby had been Logan’s from the first time he heard the heartbeat.
“I think my ovaries just exploded,” Brit announced as Emily scooted closer and put her arm around me. Logan looked inside the envelope, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. Beamed actually. He took my other hand. His eyes no longer stormy. Now, they twinkled with pure joy.
“We’re having a girl.”
A girl. I knocked Brit on her boney butt when I climbed out of the booth faster than she could get out. She chortled and complained I broke her ass from the floor of Johnnies. Emily was able to get out of my way before I had to move her too. I lifted Libby off the ground and spun her around like we were the only two people in the place. “I knew it was a girl.”
“Put me down, Logan. I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” I knew she was talking about her weight, which was nothing, but that wasn’t how I took it. This woman. My woman. Could ruin me. She had the power to destroy me, but loving her taught me to trust she wouldn’t. I never really understood my mother before Libby came into my life. I never thought anyone or anything would be worth losing everything for like she had. Libby and this baby, our little girl, were game changers.
“Are you ready?” I sat on the ottoman bench in our bedroom and rubbed lotion into my smooth legs, thankful for the shave Logan just insisted on giving me in the shower. I wasn’t going to lie; I kind of loved it when he did it and hoped he would want to keep doing it when I could see my own feet again. The first time he’d offered I was reluctant. Now, I couldn’t even remember why I’d hesitated. It was sexy as fuck when he focused all his attention on me. Even now, he knelt before me and took over. Lifting my leg and placing it on his bare shoulder. He was still wet from the shower, and it was sexy as hell. I’d never felt as alive as when he was touching me.