Home Sweet Mess

by Allison Ashley

  Two outs, two strikes. A beefy man with thick arms and hard eyes stared her down from home plate, bat clutched between his fingers, no doubt pissed off that he was about to be taken down by a girl.

  If she struck this guy out, they’d win the game.

  Logan’s voice carried from his second-base post behind her. “Come on, Jeni.”

  She glanced back at him, and the look in his eye as he gazed back at her sent a shiver down her spine. It was the same way he’d looked at her that night she asked him to sleep with her, just before he gave in and kissed her.

  Jeni brushed a few stray wisps of hair back with her forearm and turned back to focus on the batter. She gripped the ball in her right hand, tight and steady. She touched the ball to her glove, straightened, and took a deep breath. She swung her arm back and rotated, feeling her body naturally move forward, keeping her arm straight without being stiff. Her down swing was fast, and she snapped the ball free, the power from years of honing the perfect pitch evident in her delivery. The second she released the ball, she knew what would happen.

  “Strike three!” the umpire yelled.

  Her face split open in a wide smile, and it only took two seconds for her to feel herself lifted from behind, strong arms around her waist.

  “Atta girl,” Logan said from behind her.

  He set her down but kept his arms around her waist, and she turned to face him. Several other players surrounded them now, patting her on the shoulders and back—and one on the ass. She almost whipped around to find the culprit, Curt first on her list, but Logan’s fingers tightening around her waist focused her attention on him.

  He dipped his head and spoke into her ear, his breath tickling the sensitive skin there. “You’re amazing.”

  She closed her eyes and slid her arms around his shoulders, relishing in the feel of being pressed up against him. This was more than a congratulations for a stupid recreational softball championship, and they both knew it.

  But they’d pretend that’s all it was.

  It was better that way, for both of them.

  * * *

  It was a week and a half later before Jeni saw Logan again. She’d kept her phone nearby at all times, thinking he’d text her at some point, about something. She wracked her brain for excuses to reach out to him but talked herself out of it every time.

  This was her decision, and it was the right one.

  Didn’t make it easy though.

  It was the Monday of Thanksgiving week, and Jeni sat at her desk at the office, typing up an update for a case file. She looked up to see Logan approaching her desk, and her heart caught in her throat.

  Had he come to see her? Did he miss spending time with her as much as she did him?

  “Hey, you,” he said, rapping his knuckle on her desk.

  “Hey,” she said with a small smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “I’ve got a meeting with Sandra in…” He looked at his watch. “Two minutes.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment filled her.

  He watched her for a minute, his brows drawing together a little. “It shouldn’t take long, maybe half an hour. I planned to hit that deli with the hummus for lunch after. If you’re still here when I’m done, maybe you could come?”

  Jeni looked down at her hands, passing her index finger over a small freckle on her forearm. She should decline. “Sure.”

  Logan swallowed and nodded before continuing on his way to Sandra’s office. He didn’t smile once during their exchange, which made him seem intense and brooding.

  And hot.

  She definitely should’ve declined.

  In the thirty minutes Logan was in with Sandra, Jeni typed four whole words on her report. She went to the bathroom twice, once for the usual reason and once to make sure her hair looked okay. She doodled an entire family of forest animals on the back of a meeting agenda from earlier that morning.

  She jumped when his smooth voice sounded behind her. “Ready?”

  No. “Yes.” She grabbed her purse, and he gestured for her to precede him.

  The deli was two doors down and packed as usual. They took a place in line, and Jeni fidgeted with the strap of her handbag. “How was the meeting?”

  “Good. The business about Fostering Sweet Dreams only took ten minutes, but I’ve learned to schedule for longer when I get with Sandra. She’s an old friend, and we always have stuff to talk about.”

  Sandra was a chatterbox.

  “You knew her before you started the nonprofit?” Jeni asked.

  “Yeah.”

  She waited for him to expound on that, but he didn’t.

  They reached the chilled food display, and just like the last time they’d been in this room, there was only one veggie sub remaining. Jeni glanced at Logan.

  He saw it too.

  The corner of his mouth twitched, and like lightning, he bolted forward and grabbed it.

  Jeni’s mouth dropped open.

  Logan’s blue eyes were bright with mirth, and he released a genuine laugh.

  Warmth filled her, and she couldn’t help but smile in return. Hell, hearing that sound was worth a sandwich with the city’s best hummus. Still, she put her hands on her hips. “Seriously? I’m in line before you.”

  “But I’m so much faster.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  He laughed again, and like an addicted junkie, she was desperate for another one.

  “Here.” He held the wrapped sub out to her.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What’s the catch?”

  “There isn’t one,” he said. When she didn’t take it, he pulled his arm back toward his body. “I mean, if you don’t want it—”

  Jeni quickly took it. “I do.”

  “Thought so.” He leaned toward the case and perused the other available options. “I’m feeling a salad today anyway.”

  “None of the salads have hummus,” Jeni pointed out.

  He shot her a glare, but the smile on his lips countered the severe look he was going for. “Don’t rub it in.”

  They paid for their meals separately and sat down at a table.

  They shared easy conversation through the meal, their flirtatious argument over the sandwich breaking the ice. When they’d finished, they continued to sit across from one another, as if neither wanted to be the one to end their time together. His eyes never darted around the restaurant. He wasn’t distracted by the movement of customers around them. Instead, his attention was on her, and her alone.

  “Can I ask why you became interested in the foster care community?” Jeni asked.

  Logan shifted in his seat and leaned away from her. “My parents were foster parents.”

  She remembered his mother mentioning that. “Did you have foster siblings, growing up?”

  He hesitated and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Sometimes.” He dropped his hand to his lap. “So, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? Going to Nebraska?”

  Why was he changing the subject? “Do you not like to talk about it?”

  “No, I don’t.” His eyes slid to the table for a moment. “I’m sorry.”

  Fostering was rewarding and wonderful but could also be difficult and painful, both for the children in foster care and the families taking them in. Jeni wondered what kinds of children his parents had been assigned for Logan to be so closed off about it. She didn’t push it. “Okay. I’ll be here for Thanksgiving. Andrew’s coming over, and we thought we’d order pizza.”

  “Really? You two can come to my mom’s house if you want to. My grandparents are coming over, but it will just be the four of us. There will be plenty of food to go around, I promise.” His eyes were back on her, blue and intense. His gaze wasn’t one that made her uncomfortable but rather made her feel warm and off-balance.

  She took a shaky breath. “Thanks, that’s really nice. But at Andrew’s chemo appointment last week I kind of invited someone else to join us.”

  “That pharmacist? Lauren?”

&nbs
p; “Yeah. How did you know?”

  “Andrew told me about her. I think he really likes her.”

  Jeni grinned. “So do I. He was embarrassed when I invited her, but I know he’s secretly glad I did. He’s never been so hesitant around women before. I don’t know what his deal is with this one.”

  “He told me he feels awkward that she works at the cancer center.”

  “Oh.” Jeni tilted her head. “I guess I can see that. Well, I invited her anyway, and I hope she comes. She’s our age, and I’d like to get to know her too. I don’t have any friends in town.”

  His eyes roamed her face. “I’m not your friend?”

  Jeni froze then took a drink of water to buy some time. “Sure.”

  He grunted. “That was convincing.”

  “I…” she began. She looked around. No one was sitting nearby. “Things got kind of weird, Logan.”

  For a second, he appeared surprised she’d say it outright. Then his lips seemed to turn down at the corners. “I know.”

  “I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “I don’t think you can.” He looked at her intently for a moment, and her skin warmed with each passing second. He dipped his head forward, raking his fingers through his soft-looking hair.

  Jeni searched desperately for something to say. She hated the awkward silence between them. It was one hundred times worse than the strained moment at her desk earlier.

  Suddenly, he pushed back from the table. “You’re right.” He sighed. “We’re not friends. I want more, and you don’t, and that makes it complicated.” He stood and came around the table, his solid, warm body invading her space. “I can probably get there someday, to a point where I can just be friends with you. But I know I’m not there today because from the moment I saw you sitting at your desk this morning, I’ve wanted to pull you into my arms and kiss you like my life depends on it. I want to do it right now.”

  Jeni couldn’t breathe. Her gaze dropped to his full lips, and a spark of longing burst deep in her stomach. She closed her eyes, and her voice shook. “Logan…”

  He held up a hand. “Don’t.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought I could handle it, but I can’t do this. I have to go.”

  Logan turned and walked away, and Jeni just watched him go. She remained seated for several minutes, fighting the burn beneath her eyelids. When she was confident she wouldn’t cry, she finally rose on unsteady legs and walked back to work.

  Chapter Twenty

  Logan spent the next two months trying to get over Jeni Bishop. One would think it would have been easy, especially because he barely saw or spoke to her and when he did, Andrew was there too.

  Also, work was insane and should have provided ample distraction. The Chiefs went all the way to the AFC Championship playoffs, so December and January were nonstop. A missed field goal cost them a spot in the Super Bowl, and Logan was just now getting over his grief. The Broncos were out too, and he wondered how Jeni was holding up.

  But most of all, he should have been able to get over her because he never even had her in the first place.

  Why, then, was it so damn hard? How could his heart hang on so tightly to something that never belonged to him?

  Whatever the reason, he couldn’t ignore it when he saw her name flashing on his screen at ten p.m. on a Friday night the first week in February. If this was a booty call, God help him—he’d be in his car and on his way to her house in five seconds flat. He missed her enough to take whatever part of herself she’d offer him.

  “Hello?”

  “Logan?” Her tone immediately tipped him off that this was serious. She sounded like she’d been crying.

  He sat straight up in bed. “Jeni? Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m okay. I just…I need your help.”

  “Anything. Where are you? What can I do?” He put his phone on speaker and laid it on the bed to put on his jeans.

  “I’m at the office. I was on call tonight. The police had to remove a child from his home tonight, and I can’t find an available family for him until tomorrow. I’ve been on the phone for three hours trying to find someone. The only person available is in Texas and won’t be back until tomorrow. I don’t have anywhere to take him and he’s just sitting on the floor underneath my desk, and I can’t let him sleep like that. He’s four years old, and he can’t sleep on this musty, sixty-year-old carpet. I tried to get him to our holding room where we have cots, but he won’t budge. I want to at least offer him a bed. Maybe I could slide a single mattress under my desk or something, I think—” Her breath hitched. “He feels safer under there.”

  “Yes.” Her quiet sobs tore him open. “Jeni, it’s okay. I’ve got exactly what you need. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay? I just have to run to the storage facility to get it, but it’s close to your office. It will take me twenty minutes, tops. Okay?”

  She sniffled. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “I’ll be there soon.” He slipped shoes on and grabbed his keys, the phone now pressed tightly to his ear. “And Jeni? Just let him be. If he wants to be under your desk, don’t try to bring him out. Let him stay where he’s most comfortable.”

  “All I want to do is hug him and tell him it’s going to be okay.”

  “I know holding him would make you feel better. But you don’t know it will be okay. And it’s not about what you need right now. It’s about what he needs.”

  She paused, and he listened to her uneven breath through the phone. “You’re right.”

  Logan prayed no cops were out with radars tonight because he pushed his truck well over the speed limit to get to the storage unit he rented. Once inside, he cursed the lack of organization in the space. He had several single mattresses, as they were the most commonly donated, but they were stacked in the back, and it took him a while to shift things around. The space was too small to contain his inventory, but he’d been too busy to do anything about it. He was making do with what he had, but once again he thought about how badly he needed help with the foundation. Someone to keep better track of things, keep it organized, and find a better location for storage.

  He focused on the current task and loaded the bed then drove to the CPS offices.

  Logan texted Jeni when he pulled up out front. He parked on the main street, not concerned about being in the way at ten-thirty on a Friday night. He was unloading the mattress from the bed of his truck when she unlocked the door. He wanted to drop the bed and pull her close, to feel her arms around him and kiss her hair.

  But there was a child inside that needed them more than they needed each other. “There are sheets in the passenger seat,” he said. “Can you grab them?”

  He followed her through the dimly lit office space until they reached her desk. Not speaking, they made quick work of putting simple white sheets on the bed. He wished he’d had superhero or cartoon character ones instead. Jeni seemed to have composed herself between their earlier phone conversation and now, though her eyes were still red-rimmed.

  When they finished covering the mattress, he handed Jeni the stuffed animal he’d grabbed at the last minute. He had a shelf of them at the garage and tried to give one out with each bed the foundation gave away.

  Logan had the urge to peek under Jeni’s desk and talk to the terrified boy within. But he didn’t know what the boy’s situation was, and a strange man coming at him likely wouldn’t help matters. He also technically shouldn’t be here, and Jeni could get in trouble if he tried to involve himself with the child.

  She took the bear with a shaking hand. She tried to keep her face stoic, but Logan knew her heart was breaking.

  Little did she know, doing this was the only thing that fixed his.

  He walked to the edge of the room and leaned his back against the wall to wait while Jeni crouched at her desk, speaking in low tones. He wanted to make sure she didn’t need anything else, and he didn’t really like the idea of leaving her alone in this office downtown. Maybe he’d sleep in his t
ruck outside, just in case.

  He listened to them, mostly Jeni at first, but eventually came the tentative voice of the little boy. He said he had a brown teddy bear at home that looked just like that one. Its name was Brown Bear.

  Logan smiled, remembering a toy solider he’d carried in his backpack as a kid. He’d apparently also been into unoriginal names and called it Army Man.

  Jeni asked if he wanted to name the new bear, and the little boy immediately said Teddy.

  Logan closed his eyes and pressed a fist to his grin.

  It was times like this when he knew he’d never stop what he was doing through FSD, no matter how busy or stressed he got. It was too important. The kids were too important.

  Twenty minutes later, Jeni approached him. “He’s asleep. Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

  Fuck it. He pushed off the wall and crushed her to him, one hand on her hair and the other across her back. She came willingly, her arms winding around his waist, hands grasping his shirt and holding him tighter than he’d have thought possible. She pressed her face into his chest, and they breathed deeply together.

  They remained there, embracing, for several long moments. Logan dipped his head a little and lightly brushed his lips across her hair, inhaling the scent of her shampoo.

  She pulled her head back, and he braced himself for a scolding for kissing her.

  “Will you stay with me?” she asked.

  “Stay?” He searched her golden-brown eyes.

  “At least sit here with me, for a little while?” She pulled out of his embrace, and he immediately felt bereft. She lowered herself to the ground and leaned her back and head against the wall, looking up at him beseechingly.

  Like he’d say no to that.

  Logan slid down and sat beside her, and she immediately scooted closer, flush against his side.

  She rested her head against his shoulder. “Thank you,” she said again.

  He took her hand, and she held on tight.