The Winter We Collided: A Small Town Single Dad Romance (Ocean Pines Series Book 2)

by Victoria Denault

  “Ma!”

  Logan is about to do just that when Terra lurches forward and grabs the phone from his hand. “Hey Deck, one more thing. I hired a web developer and I’m redoing the website and you are going to have no say in it. Bye Felicia!”

  Terra ends the call and tosses the phone back to Logan.

  “Who is Felicia?” Lucy asks innocently.

  “Let’s go mi corazon,” Nova says and wraps an arm around Lucy’s shoulder to drag her away. “Thanks to my husband, we’ve almost ruined Logan’s date night, let’s not make it worse.”

  Terra puts a hand on Logan’s arm. “I left you something special in the kitchen. Hopefully it makes up for Declan being a jerk.”

  Lucy and Nova head out the front door with Jake and Finn behind them. Terra scoots out through the kitchen. The customers have all already cleared out, and so now it’s just Logan and me.

  Logan’s so tense I can see it. He’s standing rigid, shoulders up, hands in fists. I gently put a hand on each of his shoulders and give them a squeeze. It’s like trying to press into marble. “It’s okay Logan. I swear I don’t care about the recipe.”

  “I know, but I do,” he replies. He turns to face me, and his eyes are dark and his expression brooding. “No matter how hard I try, Declan always turns into a jackass. I would have never done that to him. I do what he wants. I keep all the fucking…he just ruins everything.”

  “It’ll only ruin the night if you let it because I’m not about to,” I say and cup the side of his face. He pushes his cheek into my palm and turns slightly to kiss it softly.

  He starts to remove his jacket. “I’m gonna go hang this in the back and make sure we’re really alone.”

  Logan starts toward the counter, but I step into his path. Grabbing the front of his shirt, I pull him to my lips. The kiss is slow, thoughtful and tender. He pulls back just enough to break it and gently kisses a trail from my lips to my ear. He whispers. “I’ve never stripped a woman bare in the middle of my restaurant and taken her on a tabletop, but I’m about to if you don’t stop.”

  I smile and step back. “I’m pretty sure it would cause the restaurant inspector to fine you.”

  “It would be worth it.” He keeps his eyes on me as one hand moves from the coat he’s carrying to adjust the front of his jeans. He reaches out, cups the back of my neck, and pulls me into a kiss and then whispers against my lips. “The only thing that tastes better than the food in this place is your pussy.”

  Now I’m the one blushing. He disappears around the counter and through the kitchen door. I walk over to the window and take in the view as I actually fan myself with my hand to cool down. The ocean is just blackness in the distance, but the dock lights are on and I can see little waves bumping against the boats docked there. I think about how cool it would have been to grow up here. How cute Logan must have been running around these docks with his brothers and sister. I always told myself I would have a big family because I missed out on that. I was still trying to sell Jackson on the idea of kids when he died. He was leery because his own family was so fragmented. What I’ve noticed about the Hawkins family is that they’re fragmented too, but yet they seem to work relentlessly at staying a unit.

  Logan walks back in carrying two cups of something steamy and delicious smelling. “Terra left clam chowder simmering on the stove, and Nova prepped the main course, so all we have to do is eat.”

  He moves to the booth and places the cups down on the place mats. As I walk over, my mouth instantly starts watering. “It smells like heaven, as usual.”

  Logan grins back proudly. “Give me another two seconds before you dig in.”

  He jogs to the bar and then back to the table, holding a few tea lights and a lighter. He places the tea lights on the window sill and the center of the table and lights them. Then he walks over to the front door and flips off the set of lights back by our booth, and we plunge into romantic candlelight. I smile, and he slides into the booth across from me.

  “Dear God, as delicious as I remember,” I say as I swallow my first spoonful.

  “I hope it wins the title back at the festival this year,” Logan says proudly. “Ma was devasted when it came in second last year. We’d won in the past.”

  “Are you going to that?” I ask.

  “Yeah. Ma makes me go every year. I hate it. I like to keep a low profile in the business,” he says, taking a big spoonful of soup.

  “Why is that?” I wonder out loud, and he opens his mouth like he’s going to answer but then closes it again and shrugs.

  “I’m just not a people person, I guess.”

  I know that’s not true. His job has him dealing with people every day. And not just normal people but people going through really horrible times, which is not what an introvert wants to be around. No, Logan likes people and he loves his family business. It’s something else. Just like his anger at Declan. It’s more than just my recipe that has him angry with his brother. “You and Declan don’t get along great, huh?”

  “My parents, Finn, Terra, and I don’t care about the money. It drives Declan bonkers,” Logan says. “Also, he isn’t a forgive and forget kind of guy. I screwed up a lot when I was drinking, and he holds on to that.”

  I watch him as he stirs his chowder, a scowl on his face. I hate to see him so upset, and I wish I could fix it even though it has nothing to do with me. “I’m sorry. I don’t have siblings, but my former husband had trouble with his brother, and I do too as you know, so I know it sucks.”

  “I think we’ve had enough family drama for the night. Let’s change the subject,” he says while I finish eating. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

  It’s only a little over a week away so I knew this would come up. “I have plans to go to Vermont with my friend Mitch,” I explain and his face falls. “I haven’t had to consider anyone else for holidays in a long time and didn’t expect to this year. Mitch is single and was disowned by his family in his twenties when he came out, so he always goes skiing for Christmas. Last year I went with him and I agreed to go again.”

  “You ski?”

  “I sit in the lounge and read by the fire,” I reply with a sheepish smile.

  Logan’s eyes darken a little but he keeps a smile on his sexy lips and doesn’t say whatever it is he was going to say. Instead, he winks, making my heart flutter like a hummingbird, and stands. “Be back in a second with the main.” He heads back into the kitchen with our empty bowls. A few minutes later, Logan walks through the kitchen doors with two large plates brimming with a freshly boiled lobster, a triple-baked potato, coleslaw, and corn on the cob. He leans over and places a plate in front of me. He picks up the plastic bib that’s beside him on the table, but instead of putting it on, he leans forward and ties it on me. Then he grabs the other one and puts it on. He picks up the lobster cracker beside the fork and knife at his place setting. He pulls off the claw and starts to crack it but realizes I haven’t moved and stops.

  “Everything looks incredible...but the lobster is freaking me out a little,” I confess, heat crawling up my face in embarrassment. “I’ve never eaten it out of the shell before. I tried a couple times, but…I cut my hand once on the shell and another time I got a piece in my eye. I also don’t like that it’s staring at me.”

  Logan looks down at the lobster and back up at me. “Seriously?”

  “That’s why I always just buy the meat at the store. No injury and no eyeballs.”

  He laughs and cracks the claw open like it’s nothing. He pulls out the claw meat in one decadent piece, dips it in the butter, and holds it out in front of me. “Then I guess I’ll just have to feed you.”

  24

  Logan

  “First I’m bathing you. Now I’m feeding you,” I say as she opens her mouth and takes the piece of lobster claw from my fork. “I can honestly say I’ve never had a landlord like this.”

  Chloe reaches up and wipes a little bit of melted butter from her bottom lip. “I can defin
itely say being a landlord has been more fulfilling than I thought it would be.”

  I open the other claw and dredge it through the butter and then pop it into my mouth. She watches me, her kitten gray eyes sparkling in the flickering candle light. “Your family must make a big deal out of Christmas, right? Big families always do, don’t they?”

  “It’s happy chaos,” I reply and tell her about how we all used to decorate the tree together and we each have different ornaments that are our favorites and we have dibs on hanging them. How our grandmother handmade our stockings and all the special cookies Ma makes and how we used to fight over them.

  She hangs on to every word of my stories. “Did you wish you had siblings?”

  “Always. My parents had me late in life. My mom was almost forty and so there was no time left for siblings, really. And my grandparents on both sides died before I was three so I never had big holidays,” Chloe explains.

  “It’s not always good times. Deck and I fought a lot as kids. Still do, actually. Finn was basically a human wrecking ball as a pre-teen, breaking everything he touched and coming home scraped or bruised every day. Then as teens, Terra was diagnosed with lupus and Declan with clinical depression. I was a drunk, as you know. The only thing I remember about my eighteenth Christmas was drinking so much vodka the night before that I puked on the Christmas turkey and told them it was the stomach flu.” I reach across the table and tear off the second claw so I can crack it and feed it to her. “I’m really lucky they didn’t disown me when they found out about my problem because I look forward to holidays with everyone now, and not just so I can steal booze. Anyway, if you didn’t have plans I was going to invite you to come with me on Christmas Eve. River will be with Bethany’s family in the Hamptons so I thought you and I could spend some time together.”

  “I get back the twenty-seventh,” Chloe says and she sounds remorseful. She wants to spend time with me too, which lessens the disappointment. “I have no plans for New Year’s, if you’re free.”

  “It’s a date,” I say, and her smile makes me want to kiss her and a whole lot more.

  I dip her claw in butter and feed it to her again. It’s sensual as all hell feeding her and watching her eyes flutter with delight as the buttery meat hits her tongue. I’m beginning to think this woman could recite the alphabet backwards while doing the hokey pokey and I would be turned on.

  “I can’t speak for Declan, but the rest of your family sees you like I see you,” she says softly, her eyes shifting downward shyly. “They see you’re a strong, good man with a lot to give.”

  I stop moving, one hand wrapped around a lobster tail. Her revelation has knocked me on my emotional ass. I feel so seen by this woman, it’s amazing and fucking terrifying. Because I am hiding something, and she’s so damn intuitive I’m scared I might not be able to for much longer. She picks up her fork and scoops up some of the triple-baked potato, but she moves the fork toward me. Maybe it’s time I do the feeding.”

  I open my mouth and she feeds me the savory perfection on her fork. It’s just as much a turn on this way. Plus I get potato. Seriously, for two people who don’t have a lot of experiences with good, old-fashioned, proper dates, I’d say we’re hitting it out of the park.

  “I’d love to hear why it’s taken so long for you to let someone in,” she says. “ Were you just still really focusing on your recovery? Were you scared to date in case you relapsed?”

  “I…” We’re so close right now. Things are so right and my heart is wide open to this woman….except this little tiny piece. The dark secret with the door closed in the back of my heart, my mind, my soul. “It’s more than that.”

  She’s waiting for me to explain. I should. I want with every fiber of my being to say more—to confess it all. But I think of how supportive my family is, the sacrifices they made to get me out of that horrible situation and into rehab and…I can’t.

  So instead of elaborating, I lean forward with another forkful of lobster meat dripping in butter, and she eats it with a smile on her pretty mouth, and then I change the subject and start talking about the festival again. She tells me how she’ll be going to oversee some photography for the website. “Well then, expect Declan to try and boss you around now that he knows about this. And feel free to tell him to get bent.”

  “I’m sure I can handle him. Besides, in the end I work for Terra and no one else,” Chloe says. “I won’t even listen to you if you try and tell me what to do.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “I hope that only applies to the restaurant. Because I kind of want to boss you around a bit in other areas.”

  “Oh yeah?” Chloe is turning pink, I can see it even in the candlelight, but there’s a delighted smirk on her gorgeous face. “Care to elaborate?”

  “I will. Later,” I promise. “Have to give you something to look forward to.”

  We finish our meal, and when I carry the empty dishes back to the kitchen, she joins me.

  The entire kitchen is stainless steel from the countertops to the sinks to the fridges to the shelves, except one thing: a bright red metal stool. I place it next to the prep island. “Ma still insists on working shifts in the kitchen, but nowadays she needs to sit while prepping the lobster rolls. Have a seat while I get dessert.

  Can I get you a coffee or anything? I was thinking maybe ice cream for dessert or…”

  My voice fades out as I open the fridge and find Terra’s secret recipe cake. No one in the family knows everything that goes into it—Terra won’t tell anyone—but it’s a rich, fudgy chocolate cake with toffee pieces in it, a gooey marshmallow sauce in between the layers, and a salted caramel ganache on top. She only makes it for special occasions, but she made it for me tonight, and she left a note taped to the plate it’s sitting on.

  Logan, you better be serious about her because she’ll fall in love with you after she eats this. xx T.

  “Is everything okay?” she asks, and suddenly she’s behind me. I try to close the fridge door but when I turn around, I know she read the note by the smile on her face. It’s fragile but glorious and takes my breath away.

  “My sister is a bit of a—”

  My sentence never finishes leaving my lips because Chloe’s kissing me. Passionately. There’s an urgency to the move of my tongue and the press of her lips. It’s filled with words we aren’t saying. Feelings we haven’t spoken. Neither one of us needs Terra’s cake, we’re falling in love fast and furiously without it. Oh my God…I’m terrified. But it’s the kind of terror you welcome, like skydiving. I’m freefalling and screaming internally, but the parachute has been pulled and I’ll land softly. Because this is right.

  “I don’t need Terra’s cake to feel that way about you, Logan,” she whispers against my cheek, her fingers knotting in my hair.

  “Neither do I,” I reply, and suddenly, with every beat of my heart it becomes clearer…I have to tell her my truth. And I’m no longer scared. I’m not worried. This incredible woman is falling in love with me and somehow that makes me feel worthy. Chloe is worthy of the truth, and I’m worthy of forgiveness. “I need to tell you something.”

  “Okay.” She doesn’t look even the slightest bit worried. Her skin is glowing. Her eyes bright and filled with love. I gently run a finger over her bottom lip, pink and plump from our kiss, before I caress her cheek.

  Then there’s a ringing sound echoing faintly from the other room. It’s not my ringtone. Chloe blinks, and her eyes dart toward the swinging door and back to me. “I should check that. Cassidy Green said she would call with an update on her mom and tell me if they need help cleaning up what’s left of the house. I volunteered.”

  Mrs. Green’s inability to keep her lips shut when it comes to neighborhood gossip drives Chloe nuts, so the fact that she is actively seeking to help Mrs. Green in her time of need proves this woman is amazing. Not that I needed any more proof. She steps back from me but hesitates. “I know this is important—whatever you want to say—do you want me to let it
go to voicemail?”

  I shake my head. “No. Answer it. It’s fine. We can talk after.”

  She heads back into the main room, and I take a few deep breaths. Chloe will be the second person in my life I will have told the truth to about that night with Bryan. Jake was the first.

  I go through the motions of cutting the cake and putting the pieces on dishes, but I don’t even care if we eat at this point. I just want to get this secret out. I’m waiting for her to return when I hear her voice, and the tone of it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention and every muscle in my body tense.

  “I’m not a whore but you’re a psycho, and I’m done. I’m filing a restraining order.”

  I move as quick as I can without running through the kitchen and into the restaurant. Chloe is standing, her back to me, facing the table we ate at, head tipped down, staring at the phone in her shaking hands.

  “Chloe?”

  The sound of her name startles her, and she jumps. With lightning speed, she wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand and drops her phone back on the table and turns to me. The smile on her face is forced and devoid of any mirth. “Hey. Sorry.”

  I walk right up to her, and she lets me pull her into a hug. I rub her back. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, but you sounded really upset. Who is calling you a whore?”

  A deep breath shudders through her. “My ex brother-in-law. Again.”

  “Jesus. What is wrong with this guy?” I kiss the top of her head. She still feels so tense in my arms.

  “Someone told him I was dating you,” Chloe explains. “Well, not you by name, but the man living in the apartment. Paul says that…that fucking a man in his brother’s home makes me a whore.”

  “First of all, fuck him,” I snarl and squeeze her tighter. “And second of all, why can’t your ex rein this asshole in? I mean surely he doesn’t want you to suffer like this? He gave you the house in the divorce after all, so why can’t his brother be angry at him instead of you?”