“I don’t think we’ve ever been formally introduced.” The redhead reached her hand out. “I’m Vivien. My sister Audrey and I own Brewed Awakenings.”
He knew that. He’d seen her there, and he never forgot a face.
As he shook her hand, the blonde broke in, pulling Logan’s hand from Vivien’s.
“And I’m Kelly. I waited on you at Sue Ann’s,” she said, shaking his hand as she spoke.
Logan nodded; he remembered that too. He’d frequented Sue Ann’s Café several times. Not only was it pretty much the only restaurant in Hope Falls, but it also had amazing food. And the owner, Sue Ann Perkins, was one of the nicest and most genuine people he’d ever met. She was what he’d always imagined a grandma would be like, but since he’d never met either of his, he had nothing to base that on.
Removing his hand from Kelly’s grip, Logan took a small step back. Normally, he didn’t retreat, but something about the look in Kelly’s eyes made Logan feel like prey, and he was pretty sure he was being hunted.
Placing his hand on Drew’s shoulder, he began shutting the door. “Today’s not good, but thanks for stopping by.”
“Maybe another time,” Vivien said hopefully as Kelly’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
“Maybe.”
As the door shut, Logan found himself shaking his head. He’d never understood why grown women thought pouting was cute. It wasn’t.
Moving to the kitchen, he asked, “Are you hungry? I have cereal and frozen waffles.”
When Drew didn’t respond, Logan looked over his shoulder. The kid was staring at the closed front door in disbelief.
“Drew,” Logan said a little louder.
It snapped the kid out of his bikini-girl trance.
“Huh?”
“Cereal or waffles?”
“Cereal.” Drew followed Logan into the kitchen before asking with sincerity, “Do girls who look like that always come to your door?”
Logan’s lips twitched as he tried not to smile. “Sometimes.”
“Oh.” Drew looked down at his feet, and Logan could tell he wanted to ask more.
Logan opened the cabinet, removed several boxes of cereal and two bowls, and set them on the island countertop. Then, after having retrieved the milk and two spoons, he and Drew sat on the barstools and filled their bowls with their preferred cereal choices; Drew went with Captain Crunch and Logan went with Lucky Charms. For every other meal, Logan tried to eat healthy—lean proteins and vegetables. But there was something about sugary cereals and frozen waffles covered in syrup that he just couldn’t give up. Much like video games.
“Did you say you didn’t want to go with those girls because I’m here?” Drew asked as he chewed a large spoonful of cereal.
“No,” Logan answered honestly.
“Oh.”
Again, Logan could tell that Drew had more to ask. After about a minute of silence he did just that.
“You just didn’t want to go with them?” The kid’s face scrunched up like he really could not fathom why Logan would have turned the women down.
Logan shook his head. “Nope.”
Drew’s blue eyes widened. “Why not?”
“Just not interested.” Logan shrugged.
“Oh.” Understanding dawned on Drew’s face. “So you’re gay.”
Logan did a double take down at the kid sitting beside him. When he did, he saw in Drew’s eyes that the kid hadn’t made the comment as an insult or was even giving Logan a hard time. It was just a simple observation.
Pride filled his chest at how accepting and nonjudgmental Drew was. Andrew had been the same way, and he knew his fallen friend would’ve been proud of his son.
“No.” Logan shook his head. “I’m not gay.”
“Oh.” Drew’s face scrunched in confusion. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“Then why didn’t you want to go?” he asked in disbelief.
“They have ‘complicated’ written all over them, and I don’t like complicated.” He knew he wasn’t really answering the kid’s question, but he didn’t really know how to explain it any better.
Setting his spoon down, Drew repeated, “Complicated?”
“Yeah. Complicated.” Logan continued eating.
“Was my dad… Did girls… How was my dad with…?” The kid stumbled over his words, but Logan got the gist of his question.
“Women loved your dad.” Logan grinned as memories started flooding through his mind. “I remember one time, when we got back to the base, some girls had snuck into our barracks and were waiting in our beds. Naked.”
Drew’s eyes grew wide. “What did you do?”
There was no way in hell Logan was going to tell him what he had done. “Well, your dad handed the girl her clothes back and made sure she got back to her car safely.”
The kid’s brows raised as he asked, “Was she ugly?”
“Nope. She was hot. Really hot. But see, from the time I met your dad, he had eyes for one woman and one woman only. Your mom. No other woman even existed to him.”
Looking back down at his cereal, Drew moved his spoon around in the milk as his shoulders slumped. Logan had no idea why the fact that his dad had been madly in love with his mom would’ve bummed the kid out, but it clearly had.
Pushing his spoon through the milk that was left in his bowl, Drew didn’t look up as he said with resignation in his tone, “That’s what my mom said when I asked her if my dad had a lot of girlfriends. She said that my dad asked her out on her first day of high school and he didn’t have any other girlfriends after that.”
“Yeah. That’s the story I heard too.” Logan slid his bowl towards the sink and turned, facing Drew. “You know, a lot of guys we served with had wives, kids, families. But they sure as hell didn’t act like it when we were overseas. They fooled around with anything that came their way. Believe me—your dad could’ve done that easily. He could’ve had any girl he wanted. The thing was, he only wanted your mom. Some of the guys used to give him a hard time about it, calling him pussy-whipped.”
That got Drew’s attention. His brown eyes shot up at Logan. “They did?”
Grinning, Logan nodded. “Yeah, and a lot worse.”
“What would my dad do?”
“He would just smile, let them talk their shit, and say that he had the best and no way in hell was he going to be the asshole who lost the best over a random hookup. It usually shut the guys up. If they were married, they probably got quiet because he was basically calling them out, and if they were single, it shut them up because they couldn’t argue the fact that your mom was the best.”
A small smile pulled at Drew’s lips. “Oh. My mom never told me that.”
“I doubt she knew.”
As Logan stood and rounded the counter to rinse their bowls, two realizations hit him. First, Drew really didn’t know Andrew. He’d died when Drew was four, and even before that, his dad had been deployed more than he’d been home. Second, everything he’d told Drew was true. Emma had been Andrew’s everything. Which made the dreams—both day and night—that had been haunting Logan for the past five years even more messed up.
Andrew had kept his vows and remained true to Emma until his dying breath. The one he’d taken in Logan’s arms. He might’ve been gone, but that didn’t change the fact that she was his. And she always would be. She would also be showing up on his doorstep soon.
Logan was so screwed.
*
“I’m sorry. Can you repeat that?” Emma was sure that she must’ve heard her agent wrong.
“There are several networks and studios interested in optioning the series. These are serious offers.” Caroline Murphy pushed the paperwork for four separate offers of intent across the boardroom table.
Emma tried to focus and read, but her ears were ringing, her vision narrowed to a pin point, and her head felt so light that if it wasn’t attached to her neck she was afraid it would float away.
&nbs
p; She’d prepared herself to be let go. For her contract not to be extended. For her agent to say that their relationship had run its course and then be shown the door. When she’d envisioned this meeting, it had concluded with her agent and publishing house telling her their version of a saying she’d heard a lot growing up in the south: “Don’t let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya.”
That wasn’t what had happened. Her contract had been extended another six months. Her agent not only wanted to continue working with her, but she had multiple optioning offers.
“We’re thinking that we want to go with one of the film studios, but we’d love your input. We’d also like to have the series completed before making a final decision,” her publicist explained.
“Of course. Yes.” Emma nodded on autopilot.
“Will that timeline be an issue?” Lana, who’d been Emma’s editor since her first novel, asked, her eyebrows rising over her glasses.
Lana knew better than anyone the struggles Emma faced while completing the final two books. She’d received more e-mails explaining why Emma wasn’t going to be able to meet a deadline than she had with any actual pages written.
“No. No problem at all,” Emma assured her, trying to project a confidence and assuredness she in no way possessed in that moment.
“Okay.” Lana leaned back in her chair and as her eyes narrowed, she looked unconvinced, but to Emma’s great relief, she didn’t push the issue.
Jim Northrup, who was VP of Acquisitions, looked between Caroline and Emma. “Why don’t you take those with you and look them over? Let us know what you see your work being translated to: TV series or film. I’m not sure what your plans are for the rest of the day, but we have meetings with two networks and a producer who want to pitch and we’d love for you both to sit in on them.”
“We’d love to,” Caroline answered for both of them.
Crap.
“Actually, um, I need to make a phone call.” Emma stood and started towards the large glass door that led out into the hallway.
Stepping into the corridor, she pulled her phone out of her purse as several people bustled by her. The hall didn’t offer much privacy, but it was better than making the call in a room of six people who were all staring at her.
Pressing her finger to plug her left ear, she held her phone to the right one as it rang. Her heart was pounding rapidly, and it had nothing to do with the possible optioning of her series and everything to do with the person on the other end of the ringing.
“Hey,” Logan answered, sounding casual and relaxed, like they spoke to each other on a daily basis.
“Hi.” Emma cringed when she heard her own voice. Breathless McBreathy was back in full effect.
How could he sound so calm and collected when she sounded like she’d just run a half marathon!? She needed to get a grip. Open her mouth, make words come out that weren’t Jane Mansfield-esque.
“How’s everything going?” Logan’s deep tone vibrated through her, doing nothing to help her sound less affected.
Straightening her back, she let out a small puff of air as she attempted to gather her wits—a.k.a. her hormones—and get them under some kind of control. “Good, actually. That’s why I’m calling. I have the opportunity to meet with several networks and a producer that are interested in optioning my series. I’d planned on being on a plane in an hour, and I still can. That’s no problem. But I was wondering if—”
“Stay as long as you need to stay. We’re fine. Right?”
There was a rustling sound before she heard her son yell happily, “We’re good, Mom!”
Tears immediately sprang to her eyes. Not just because she missed her son. She did, but that wasn’t causing the waterworks. No, she was misty because she hadn’t heard her son sound that happy in…she couldn’t remember.
For the last couple of years, her happy-go-lucky boy had turned quiet. Withdrawn. Serious. He used to laugh and joke around all the time, but lately, if he wasn’t at an after school or sport activity, he just wanted to be in his room. They used to have movie nights, bowling nights, and game nights, but for a while now, he’d been making excuses—usually schoolwork—to get out of them. Hearing him sound so carefree and happy lifted the boulder of worry and doubt that had decided to live resting on Emma’s chest.
“See? We’re fine,” Logan repeated in assurance.
“Okay. I’ll keep you posted. I’ll try to get a red-eye tonight.” Emma blinked back the tears pooling in her lids as her chest filled with so much gratitude it felt like a balloon that was about to pop. “Thanks again, Logan. You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“It’s no problem, really. Good luck with everything, and congratulations, Emma.”
She tried not to read too much into Logan’s words. She was sure he was just being nice, but it felt like solidarity—something she hadn’t experienced since she’d lost Andrew. Having another adult to talk to, share good news with, take care of Drew while she was out of town, was almost too much to handle. Everything had been on her shoulders alone for so long that she didn’t know how to process what she was feeling.
So, instead of trying, she ended the call with, “Thanks. I’ll see you guys soon.”
“See you soon.”
When the phone disconnected, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Thoughts were running through her head like bulls in Pamplona.
Her contract had been renewed.
She had six months to complete When It’s Magic and When It’s Fate, the last two books in her When It’s Love series.
The rest of the day was going to be spent meeting with executives who wanted to option her series—which, if she’d read the offers correctly, would be a nice payout. The kind of money that would give her and Drew a cushion.
A cushion they’d never had before. A cushion that would mean she could go to sleep every night with the knowledge that they’d be okay; something she hadn’t been able to do since she’d opened the door to see two military personnel in full dress standing on her porch.
And that was only what was happening with her. In California, her son was happy and spending time with the only other person in the world who had known Andrew as well as Emma had. Andrew and Logan had bonded during boot camp. She didn’t know if it was because Logan had never been away from his twin brother and Andrew had never had a brother or what, but the fact was, they might not have been blood, but they’d been brothers.
She was confident Logan could answer whatever questions Drew had about his dad. She’d tried, but somehow, she’d fallen short in that department. Every time she answered one of her son’s many questions, he would shuffle his feet, bite his inner lip, or frown, looking disappointed. Like her response wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted to hear. She didn’t understand it, and she’d tried to get him to see a therapist a year ago, but that had gone over about as well as one would expect trying to convince a nine-year-old to talk about his feelings would go.
When Drew first started his campaign to go to Camp Pine a couple of weeks ago, she hadn’t questioned it. She’d actually been relieved to see him so excited about something, anything. Not to mention she’d been putting off this business trip for the past six months because she hadn’t wanted to leave her son. The timing couldn’t have been better—she’d thought.
Now that she knew the whole “Camp Pine” thing had been a scheme so that her son could see Logan, she was still relieved. She was mad he’d lied, and the thought of him traveling on a bus in the middle of the night terrified her, but all of that was secondary to the fact that he was getting to know the man Andrew had considered family.
Even though that meant she was going to be seeing the man who was definitely not like a brother to her.
“Emma?” Caroline peeked her head out of the conference room. “Everything okay?”
Pushing off her temporary sanity support—a.k.a. the wall—she nodded. “Yep. Everything’s great.”
She needed to back-burner her
less-than-familial feelings for Logan and concentrate on the events at hand. Her future—as well as Drew’s—depended on her being present and not distracted.
Which might prove to be a little more difficult than it sounded. Emma had always known that Logan Dorsey was a lot of things: dependable, honest, trustworthy, strong, capable, and a man of few words. Now, she needed to add another quality to that list: extremely distracting.
Chapter 4
‡
“Get whatever you want.” Logan set his menu down.
“Seriously?” Drew asked in disbelief.
“Seriously.”
“Sweet!” Drew exclaimed with a huge smile.
Logan’s lips pulled at the corners, which had been happening all day. When Drew beat a level in Halo after Logan had shown him a cheat code, in his excitement, he’d practically jumped up and down on the couch with the same enthusiasm Tom Cruise had shown for Katie Holmes. When they’d ordered a pizza for lunch and Logan had gotten a two liter of cola, Drew hadn’t been able to stop smiling even as he guzzled two glasses. And when they’d walked down to the diner and two twenty-something girls, who Logan had assumed were tourists because he hadn’t seen them around before, pulled their tank tops up and flashed them their bikini-covered chests, Drew had high-fived Logan like it had been the coolest thing in the world.
Logan had smiled more today than he probably had in the last six years. Drew’s enthusiasm was contagious.
Sue Ann Perkins stepped up to their table. “Hello, boys. What can I get for you tonight?”
“Hey, Sue Ann,” Logan said. “This is my godson, Drew. Drew, this is Mrs. Perkins. This is her café.”
Drew stood and reached his hand out. “Hi, Mrs. Perkins.”
Just like the smiles that had been a reoccurring theme of the day, pride swelled in his chest, which had also happened several times since Drew had shown up on his doorstep that morning. Pride for the young man Drew was. Andrew would’ve been so damn proud. His son was well-mannered, smart, and funny, and he had really good taste in video games.
Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11) Page 3