While she had been making dinner and Logan had run to the store for more butter, Drew had told her about an incident that had happened in the garage and then that, about an hour after it happened, Logan had thanked Drew for his advice. And Logan hadn’t stopped there. He had also told him that it was exactly what Andrew would have said. Logan had told Drew that he was a lot like Andrew. She’d never seen her son as happy as he had been while relaying that story to her.
Thankfully, she had been chopping onions at the time, so she had an easy scapegoat to blame the tears on and her son had not picked up on how emotional it had made her. Not just because, now that Logan had pointed it out, she did notice a lot of similarities between her son and Andrew, and it had hit her all over again that Andrew would never witness that. But it also made her face the fact that she’d pushed down so many memories of Andrew that she hadn’t even noticed the way Drew had basically become his mini-me.
The way he told stories. The way he held his fork too high on the neck. The way he got really quiet when he was being introspective, but the rest of the time, she couldn’t shut him up.
She’d repressed all of that. Which in and of itself was not that upsetting. She’d barely made it through dinner and then bowed out of watching a movie, claiming she had to work. Really she just needed to process the guilt she was feeling about not noticing Drew taking after her late husband. She’d forgotten all the little things that made Andrew…Andrew. It wasn’t because she missed him. Maybe, at first, it had been, but now, it was something else. And when that truth had struck her, the missing piece of the puzzle titled “Why I’m Being Mean to Logan” snapped into place and the picture was clear as day.
Knowing that she needed to face this sooner rather than later, she lifted her hand to knock on Logan’s door, but before her knuckles hit the wood, the door opened.
“Hey,” he said, his brow raised.
Well, at least she didn’t have to worry that she was waking him up.
“Hey.” Emma awkwardly lifted her hand. “Sorry to bug you. Can we talk?”
“Yeah.” He nodded and turned to the side so she could enter—unlike the first time she’d shown up at his door in the middle of the night and she’d had to push past him.
She felt nervous about being alone with Logan. Not nervous because of him though. No, she was more nervous like Tina was at the door with Kade. She didn’t want Logan to see that all she really wanted to do was research. But as with Kade, she knew they needed to talk. Unlike with Kade, it wasn’t going to be first. Emma was sure that their fooling around had been a one-night-only special event.
Especially since she’d donned a Super Brat cape immediately following the event she so desperately wanted to reenact. After the way she’d been treating him, she wouldn’t be surprised if she had even burned their friendship bridge.
Turning towards him, she started with, “I’m sorry.”
At the exact same time, he asked, “Are you okay?”
They both laughed a little at their déjà vu moment.
Continuing in that spirit, Logan smiled as he said, “Ladies first.”
Thankfully, after that, the ice she’d been sliding on had been broken. That or she had better skates to navigate on it.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting the past few days.”
“It’s okay.” Crossing his arms over his broad, bare chest, he asked. “What’s been going on? Are you okay?” His questions were borne out of palpable concern, making her feel even worse for how she’d behaved.
“Yes… Or no. I’m not sure, but either way, you don’t deserve to deal with it. I’ve been a brat and you’ve been doing nothing but going above and beyond for me and Drew.”
A hard look crossed his face. “Don’t do that.”
Emma was taken aback. This had been going so well, and this bump on her Road to Redemption had come out of nowhere. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“Do what?”
“Put yourself down.” Logan’s tone was flat. The only emotion she could read on his face came from the tense set of his jaw.
“I wasn’t, I was just say—”
“Yes you were,” Logan interrupted. “And you do it all the time.”
If this conversation was a teeter-totter, all of the weight had somehow just shifted to her and she was flat on her rear. So she pushed back.
“No. I don’t—”
Again, Logan cut her off. “Yes you do. Sometimes you do it when you’re apologizing for something. Sometimes you mumble it under your breath to yourself. And sometimes you do it when you’re joking around, making yourself the butt of the joke.”
When he stepped forward, closing the space between them, she tilted her head back so she could maintain eye contact.
“You are not stupid. You are not an idiot. You are not a klutz. You are not flighty. You are not ditzy. You are not dumb. And you, Emma Locke, are definitely not a brat.”
Now that he’d put it like that, she could hear herself saying those things about herself.
“You are smart. You are the best mom there could ever be. You’re funny. You’re creative. You are strong. You are resilient. You are a single mom raising a preteen boy and yet you never complain. You are selfless. You are giving. You are beautiful. That word is overused, but you are truly the epitome of beauty inside and out.”
Emma was floored. Speechless. Logan wasn’t the kind of guy who just said those things. If he said something, he meant it.
He brushed a hair behind her ear, and a shiver skittered down her spine.
“Will you promise me something?” he asked.
After all the amazing things he’d just said, she would’ve agreed to anything. “Yes.”
“Promise me you’ll stop doing that. That you won’t say one more negative thing about yourself?”
Okay, maybe not anything.
Shaking her head slightly, she said in a breathy voice, “I can’t promise I never will, but I’ll try. I’ll really try.”
“Good.” Logan smiled a satisfied grin.
She didn’t know why he cared so much, but apparently, he did.
“So, what’s been going on? I know that it upset you when I insisted on going to pick up Drew with you. I’m sorry if I crossed the line. That being said, if the situation presents itself again, I would do the same thing.”
Emma loved the fact that he stood by his convictions even when he was saying he was sorry. Scrunching her nose, she tilted her head to the side as she teased, “My apology was better.”
“Okay,” he easily conceded, making her heart expand. “So, talk to me.”
Blowing out a puff of air, she sat on the bed as exhaustion swept through her. Dipping her chin, she stared at her now bare left ring finger—the one that, up until two days ago, held her wedding ring. Tears welled in her eyes as she lifted her head and met Logan’s gaze.
“Tonight, while I was making dinner, Drew told me about the talk you and he had. He said that you told him that he was like his dad.”
Logan nodded.
“He really is, right?” She smiled through the tears slipping down her cheeks. “The thing is, I didn’t see it. Not really. I mean, I knew that physically he resembled him, but the personality stuff, the mannerisms—I’d blocked all of that out.”
“That’s understandable—”
“No.” She shook her head. “It’s not. Not for the reason I did. It would be understandable if it was because I missed him so much that it was just too painful to think about, but that’s not it.”
There was a very good chance that, after she told Logan the reason that she’d repressed her memories of Andrew, his glowing opinion of her would be tarnished. But…it was the truth, and wasn’t that supposed to set her free?
Emma wanted to be free.
“The reason I didn’t see how much Drew was like Andrew and the reason I’ve been treating you so badly the past two days is that I’ve been mad.” She took a shaky breath as tea
r after tear spilled down her face. “I have been furious at Andrew for leaving me. For dying and leaving me alone. And I didn’t even realize it. For some reason, when you said that I wasn’t going to go out at night alone, it brought all the anger I’d been suppressing right up to the surface. Then when you…when you…”
Sniffing, she wiped her nose with the back of her hand and closed her eyes, taking a moment to compose herself. When she looked back up, Logan was handing her a handkerchief.
“Thank you.” She chuckled a little at the irony of him demonstrating exactly what she was trying to describe as she took the bandana. After she wiped her cheeks and blew her nose, she held it out in front of her. “And when you do things like this, like get Drew medicine or pick the perfect movie, I transferred all of that anger to you. Because I know that, in a couple of weeks, we’ll be back in Seattle and I will be going out in the middle of the night by myself. I’ll be going to the store to get the medicine. I’ll be making chicken noodle soup. I’ll be alone.” She didn’t even try to wipe the flood of tears. “And that’s fine. That’s my life. But I think I’ve just been holding it all together for so long with no room for error. I’ve had no safety net. I couldn’t lose it because I’m all Drew has.”
“He has me. You have me. You’re not alone.” Logan sounded as heartbroken as she felt.
“I know.” She forced herself to smile as she assured him, “I know we do.”
She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. He’d been nothing but amazing to her and Drew. Knowing that this breakdown was not what he’d signed up for when he’d generously offered for them to stay here, she stood and headed towards the door, but didn’t make it far before she found herself being pulled into Logan’s arms.
For a moment, she froze. She didn’t hug him back. Didn’t move.
Emma needed to be strong. She needed to get back some of the armor that staying there had chipped away from her. She was scared that, if she gave in to the comfort, the embrace Logan was offering, the next time she needed support and he wasn’t there, she would fall flat on her face.
Despite her fear, her body molded and sank into his hold. She wrapped her arms around his waist and let herself feel his strength—but she felt a little more than just his strength.
“Ignore it,” Logan said flatly.
Emma started laughing. She loved that he addressed the situation instead of trying to pretend that it wasn’t happening. Happiness flowed through her, and her tears dried up.
Maybe she hadn’t dealt with Andrew’s death in the best way. Maybe she still had a lot of issues because of it. But the one thing she’d learned was that no one is promised a tomorrow. And you should take all the joy from each moment you have on earth.
In this moment, ignoring it was the last thing she wanted to do.
Lifting up on her tiptoes, she snuggled her face into his neck the same way she had five years ago, but she hoped there would be a much different outcome. Pressing her lips to the muscle that ran from his collarbone to his jawline, she whispered against his skin, “What if I don’t want to ignore it?”
Chapter 20
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Logan was torn as to whether this was a good idea or not. He didn’t want to take advantage of Emma when she was in such a vulnerable place, but damn, he was only a man.
“What about Drew?” He figured that would give her pause to think about their next actions, be an easy out for her.
“He’s sleeping,” she explained between planting soft kisses that drove him crazy on his neck. “We can be quiet. Very quiet.”
Quiet. That sounded like a good idea to him.
After sweeping his hands down the slope of her back, he gripped her hips and picked her up in one swift movement. Then she let out a squeal of surprise.
“That’s not a good start,” he joked as he stalked back to the door.
“Where are we going?” she giggled into his neck.
“To lock the door.”
Drew hadn’t once come to his room at night, but if he couldn’t find his mom in her room, his would be the next logical place to check.
“Good idea.” She squeezed her arms around him tighter as she trailed kisses from his jaw to his shoulder.
Logan had planned on locking the door, turning back to the bed, and stripping them both, but Emma had other plans.
The second the door was secured, she started squirming out of his grasp. While gently setting her down, he thought that she must’ve been having second thoughts. The disappointment swarming through him like bees around a hive was less about the physical loss and more about the emotional loss Emma’s one-eighty would cause. Being with Emma was so much more than getting his rocks off. The night he’d spent with her was the first time, maybe ever, that he hadn’t felt totally alone.
Could hearts get blue balls?
Thankfully, he didn’t have to find out. Instead of leaving, she dropped to her knees and slid his sweats down with her. As he stepped out of them, her fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft and he hissed. The pleasure just her touch gave him caused his knees to buckle. He had to brace his hand against the wall for support.
“Mmm.” Emma’s big, blue eyes looked up at him. “This should definitely not be ignored.” Then she guided his engorged head to her mouth like a microphone.
She rubbed it over her lips like she was putting on lipstick. His fingers clenched on the wall as she added her tongue to the mix. She alternated between brushing her lips and slowly licking up and down his rod, making sure to pay special attention to the base and the tip.
Rolling waves of pleasure swept through him as she increased the pressure and friction as she stroked him. His shaft throbbed in her grip. He swept some of her hair behind her shoulder so he could see her lips, her hand, her tongue on him.
When he had a clear view, her eyes peeked up at him through a thick bed of lashes and she sealed her lips around his mushroom tip. Then she slowly sucked him deep into her wet mouth.
“Fuck,” he gritted out as he locked his knees, and his breath caught.
Logan liked to be in control. Some guys loved blowjobs, but he never had. In his experience, a woman’s mouth was a distant second to her sex. Emma was the exception to the rule.
He’d always looked at blowjobs like going to the park when you could go to Disney World. But Emma on her knees before him, teasing him with her mouth, definitely Disney World.
The sensation of her soft, velvety tongue and the suction of her mouth, were the best kinds of sensual torment. His body was alive with pent-up arousal; it tremored through him. He had no idea how many nerve endings she was hitting, but it felt like all of them. Lust radiated down his legs, up his torso, through his chest, and spread all the way through his fingertips.
Her hot, sweet mouth commanded his body. She quickly found a rhythm that had his balls tightening against his body, tingling with release. As good as this was feeling, he didn’t want to come this way.
Logan grabbed her shoulders, stood her up, and within seconds, had her out of her sweats and T-shirt. His gaze slid over her naked body. Over her bare shoulders and beautifully formed, creamy breasts. Past her pink, hardened nipples and the rosy skin surrounding them. Down her quivering stomach, which flared out at her hips. Skimming his way along the inner slope of her thigh and then back up again.
Every inch of her body was a male fantasy come to life. Even the small, white stretch marks on her hips and her lower belly turned him on. She was a living, breathing pinup girl. A work of art.
If they’d had all the time in the world, he would’ve taken more time to admire her bare form. But the fact that they could’ve been interrupted at any minute created a heightened desperation in him.
He wanted her. Needed her. Now. But he needed to make sure she was ready.
He slid his hand from her hip to her center, and dipped two fingers between her legs. The small patch of curly, dark hair at the top of her seam was damp with arousal, and when he moved his fingers lower, he
slid easily along her slick folds.
Her already being so wet when he hadn’t even touched her—that she’d gotten that aroused from pleasuring him—made the primal feelings only Emma had ever inspired in him, roar with urgency.
Her hands held on to his shoulders as she spread her legs apart for him, giving him better access to her core. When he began rubbing circles around her clit, she let out a small cry before burying her face in his neck. With one hand, he held her hip in place while the other intimately caressed her. Her nub swelled as he flicked it. Then, shifting slightly, he replaced his forefinger with his thumb while he slid his middle finger up and down her taut opening.
“I love how you touch me,” she whispered as her nails dug into his shoulders.
Emma’s breathing turned into pants, and the heat of her gasps fanned his neck. With every pass of his finger, her seam pulsed, begged for his touch. The evidence of her arousal coated him as he rubbed along her tender flesh.
The wetter she got, the harder he grew. It had been difficult for him to take things slow the first time they were together, but now that he knew how it felt to be inside her, it was damn near impossible to take things slow.
Not knowing how much longer he could maintain any self-control, Logan pushed his finger past her tight slit and into her sweet, warm center. Her body contracted against the intrusion, and she silently cried out as she snuggled her face closer to his neck. She held on to his shoulders as he thrust in and out of her snug canal. When he crooked his finger, embedded deep in her body, her entire body began shaking.
“Yes… Oh God…” she breathed.
He pressed his lips against her ear as he whispered, “That’s it. Come for me. Come on my finger.”
At his words, her hips bucked and a rush of liquid heat enveloped his finger. She clung to him as she rode his finger, drawing her completion out and softly gasping into his shoulder. He continued whispering words of encouragement as she collapsed against him.
Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11) Page 20