Home Sweet Mess

by Allison Ashley

  Jeni stilled. “I have the urge to say ‘that’s what she said,’ but I’m not entirely sure what that means.”

  “Me either. Guess we’ll figure it out as we go.”

  She moved forward, inch by inch, until her lips were so close he felt her breath against his. “I’m glad you made sure we’re prepared for all scenarios. Even blow off.” She licked his bottom lip.

  Some incoherent noise left his throat.

  She finally molded her lips to his, putting him out of his misery, and they kissed for several long moments. He’d never tire of her lips or her hands on his face, his shoulders, in his hair.

  “This is the best thing ever,” she said when she pulled back a little. “I love gifts that have a purpose. And ones that make beer.”

  Logan cupped her cheek and leaned forward to kiss her again. “How many gifts that make beer have you received?”

  “This is the first.” She put her weight on one arm and ran the fingers of the other hand lightly through his hair, sending a bolt of electricity down his spine. “I’ve had a lot of firsts with you.”

  He swallowed, hard. “I’ve had a lot of firsts with you too.”

  She frowned a little and sat beside him. “Really? Like what?”

  Logan took her hand. “This will probably sound stupid. But it sort of feels like everything is new. Each time I touch you or kiss you, I feel something I’ve never felt before. I love it when you disagree with me and glare at me, like you’re doing right now. I’ve never met another woman who shares my passion for the foster care community, other than Sandra—and she’s forty years older than me. I love your competitive nature and soft side you try so hard to hide. I miss you when I’m not with you, and that’s never happened to me before.” He held up their entwined hands. “You know what I think it is?”

  Jeni twisted her lips to the side. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “You probably don’t, but I want to tell you anyway.”

  “Please. Don’t say it.”

  “I’m in love with you.”

  She shook her head, her eyes closing. “Don’t. No, you’re not.”

  “I am. I can’t help it.” He slid his other hand along her neck, his thumb just below her earlobe. She kept her eyes closed but didn’t pull away from his touch. “I’ve tried to stop, I really have. It didn’t work.” The words clawed their way free, from his heart and past his lips. “I’ll never not love you, Jenifer Bishop.”

  “Don’t,” she mouthed, though no sound came out.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. “You don’t have to say it back. This doesn’t change anything. We’re still taking it one day at a time. There’s no pressure. I just have to say it out loud. It’s killing me not to tell you. You have to know how I feel.”

  She opened her eyes, her golden-brown irises searching his face. He wished he could smooth the worry lines between her brows. “Promise?”

  “That I love you? Hell yes.”

  “No. That nothing will change. That you still want to be with me but you’re okay with the way we’re doing it.”

  He wanted to promise her that, but the words lodged in his throat. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “No.”

  “I know you had a terrible experience with your ex-husband. But hasn’t this time with me shown you—at least a little bit—that no two relationships are the same?”

  “Yes.” Her response shocked him, but the look on her face told him she still hadn’t changed her mind. “It’s completely different with you than it was with Jackson. In the best, most wonderful way, and I love being with you. But you know what else I love? The thought that tomorrow, if I wanted to, I could move to France. I could quit, take a road trip to Canada, and go on an adventure. I could adopt six cats, just because I felt like it. I could go vegan and keep nothing in my house except raw vegetables and shelled nuts. When people get married and commit to each other at that level, they lose part of their independence. Maybe even the ability to get what they want out of life.”

  “Not if you find someone who loves you just the way you are and accepts those things about you. Not if you find someone who shares the same dreams. Will you ever stop working to improve the lives of children?”

  “You know the answer to that.”

  “Neither will I. As long as you’re physically able, will you want to play softball?”

  She looked away. “Yes.”

  “So will I. Do you love football, good beer, and tacos?”

  “Sure. Right now, I do. But I can’t say I always will. What happens then?”

  “Then I wouldn’t give a flying fuck. I’d quit my job, be sober, and boycott Mexican cuisine. You’re more important to me than those things.”

  “Stop making good points. I’m not changing my mind.”

  Logan balled up his fists. “You’re the most stubborn woman.”

  “I know you don’t see it, but I’m thinking of you too. It’s not just about meeting my needs, Logan. What about you? What if I can’t give you everything you wanted out of life?”

  “What could I possibly want that you couldn’t give me?” He was at a loss.

  Jeni blinked and looked at him for so long, he thought maybe she hadn’t heard him.

  He waited for several heartbeats, something in his gut telling him maybe this was dangerous territory. “Jeni?”

  Then a single tear slipped from the corner of her eye. Then another and another. She tucked her lower lip into her mouth and looked away.

  Logan’s heart seized up, and he immediately scooted closer and put an arm around her. “What’s going on?”

  Her shoulders shook, the tears coming in earnest. A few sounds came out like she tried to speak, but each word fractured on a sob.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, feeling helpless. He had no idea what to do or what he’d said that drove her to instant tears. “Jeni, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She’d bowed her head but tilted it up now to look at him. Her tear-stained cheeks and the pain in her eyes was a jagged knife right into his heart. What the hell was going on?

  “I—” she started and then cried even harder. She put her head in her hands.

  Logan rubbed his hand up and down her back. He was desperate to know what had sparked such emotion but hated seeing her like this. He didn’t know how to make it stop. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything now. We can talk about it later, okay?”

  She sniffed and nodded, leaning into him heavily.

  “I’m sorry,” he said again.

  Jeni hiccupped and seemed to attempt a deep breath before getting the halted words “not you” out.

  He leaned back against the couch, pulling her with him to lay across his chest. It took a long time for her tears to abate, but he wasn’t in a hurry. If anything, he’d relish these minutes she let him hold her in his arms. Because if what just happened told him anything, it was that she was seriously hurting and something about it made her believe they could never be together long term.

  Logan kissed the top of her head, drowning in her a little more. Knowing what he was doing to himself.

  It hurt to be with her knowing she didn’t think it would last.

  But it would hurt more to never have her at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Jeni thought she knew what it meant to be the center of Logan’s attention. The night they’d slept together she’d felt his singular, intense focus, and she’d been positive she’d never experience anything more overwhelming again.

  She was wrong.

  Since they agreed to start their relationship of sorts, he was everywhere. Even if he wasn’t with her physically, his presence was somewhere. All the time.

  In the flowers on her desk, delivered fresh every week.

  In the sweet text messages he sent just to say he was thinking about her or that he hoped she had a good day.

  In their batches of beer fermenting in her gar
age that she saw any time she went anywhere (the first had been terrible, the second tolerable, and the third somewhat enjoyable).

  He’d been so patient with her that night she broke down crying. Held her close and wiped her tears without forcing her to talk about what was going on inside her head. He still hadn’t brought it up since, letting her do it in her own time.

  He was the best man she’d never known.

  Every time she caught herself getting used to it, she steeled herself and tried to stop her feelings from growing deeper. Logan was planting roots deep in her heart, and the more entrenched they became, the more painful it would be when they were inevitably ripped out.

  One morning as they sat on the porch after he’d stayed the night (nothing exciting to report—Logan wouldn’t budge an inch on his decision to take it slow on that front) she’d almost told him what upset her so much that day. Her deepest, darkest secret. Which wasn’t actually a secret so much as a fear and an inadequacy in her ability to be what he needed.

  But as they sat in the quiet that morning, Logan seemingly comfortable in the silence Jeni preferred while she drank her coffee, she decided she didn’t want to lose him just yet. She wasn’t ready to go back to being lonely.

  So, she didn’t tell him.

  She couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Things had been wonderful since Valentine’s Day, so why mess with a good thing?

  He was never far from her mind. What was he doing right this minute? Was he thinking about her? She pulled out her phone to send him a text when an elbow jabbed her in the ribs.

  “Hey, can we go in there?” Lauren asked, pointing to Athleta. “I need new Netflix pants.”

  In a weird thought that was some sort of mixture between happy and depressing, Jeni looked at Lauren and realized that even when things with Logan ended, she wouldn’t be as alone as she was before. She now considered Lauren a friend, and the two were spending the afternoon shopping on the Plaza. Not only was she a friend, but Jeni half-expected Lauren to become a soon-to-be member of her family any day now. Her brother hadn’t said he planned to propose, but she could feel it. Twin connection or whatever. His last chemo was Friday, and his (hopefully) last scan early next week. If he was cancer free, what better way to celebrate than an engagement?

  Jeni adjusted her glasses. “Sure, but only if you tell me what Netflix pants are.”

  “I’m a huge documentary nerd, and I like to be comfortable when I’m watching them. Netflix pants.”

  Jeni rolled her eyes. “You and my brother are perfect for each other.” She’d never met anyone as obsessed with documentaries as he was.

  Lauren smiled wide, as if that was the best thing she’d heard all day.

  They walked into the store, Lauren making a beeline straight for the capri leggings. Jeni decided she could use a new sports bra and went in the other direction. When she spun around, she nearly walked right into someone.

  “Oh, excuse me,” Jeni said, shifting to the side.

  “Jeni Bishop?”

  Jeni looked up. “Gretchen? Is that you?”

  “Yeah!” Gretchen Thomas, a friend of Jeni’s from high school, held her arms out for a hug.

  “What on earth are you doing here?” Jeni asked when they pulled apart. She hadn’t seen Gretchen in years. She’d always liked her, but they weren’t so close they kept in constant communication outside comments and likes on social media posts.

  “My mom and I came down for a girl’s shopping trip. She’s not into exercise, so we split up when I wanted to come here. I’m meeting her at Panera in ten minutes. You should come. She’d be so happy to see you.”

  “Oh, that’s nice. I’m here with a friend, but thanks for the offer. Tell her I said hello.”

  “I will.” Gretchen tucked her short dark hair behind one ear. “So, how are you? You live here now, right?”

  “Yeah, it’ll be a year in July. It was a change, but I love it here. Different from small-town Nebraska, that’s for sure.”

  Gretchen nodded solemnly. “I don’t blame you from wanting to get away. Did you hear Jackson got married again?”

  Jeni’s mouth dropped. “He did?”

  “Oh.” Gretchen grimaced. “Shit, you didn’t know? Sorry, I just assumed one of your sisters would have told you. He married Pixie Thurman, of all people.”

  “Jackson and Pixie?”

  “Right?” Gretchen shuddered. “I can’t stand her. He’s happy though, looked like he was on cloud nine when I saw him at the grocery store the other day. Rumor is she’s pregnant.”

  “Pregnant?” Jeni suddenly felt lightheaded. “Are you sure?”

  “Well, no. You know how people talk in our small town. But they did get married awfully quick. It’s been a few months now. I haven’t seen her lately, so I couldn’t say for sure.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Jeni said. Jackson wouldn’t want his wife far from the farm. Maybe for some women, that kind of life was appealing. For Pixie’s sake, she hoped that was the case.

  A cell phone rang, and Gretchen dug around in her purse. “That’s my mom. I’d better go. It was so good to see you. We’re here for another two days, maybe we could get coffee and catch up?”

  “Sure. My number’s the same.”

  “Great, I’ll be in touch.” Gretchen smiled and gave Jeni another hug before rushing out the door.

  Jeni stood rooted to the spot after Gretchen left, her mind racing.

  Jackson got remarried? And his wife was pregnant?

  The first part she didn’t really care about. She didn’t have feelings for him anymore—he’d made certain of that with the way he treated her those last two years.

  It was the news about the baby Jeni’s thoughts kept tripping over.

  For so long, he’d told her he didn’t want kids. At the end, he swore up and down that wasn’t the problem and that he hadn’t changed his mind about that fact. She’d always suspected it wasn’t true and wondered if that was one reason he’d begun to resent her.

  Now she knew without a doubt—she’d been right.

  * * *

  Later that night, Jeni and Logan spent hours messing around on her couch. “Logan,” she said breathlessly, and he looked up at her with flushed cheeks and hooded eyes. “I want you to make love to me.”

  He let out a half-groan, half-moan. “Jeni.”

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked, careful to keep her voice neutral and not accusing. She really wanted to know.

  “I know. It’s ridiculous. I’m making us both miserable, but like I said before, I’m trying to do things right by you.”

  “What does that even mean? I’m telling you I want you. You’re not taking advantage of me or pushing me to do something I don’t want to do. We’ve been dating almost two months now.”

  He gently pushed her off his lap and sat up, rotating his body to set his feet on the ground. His back curved forward, and he put his head in his hands. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Can you try? I mean, it’s okay. I want to spend time with you no matter what we’re doing. I’m just trying to understand what’s going on in your head.”

  “I’m not sure I even know.” He rubbed at his forehead before straightening to look at her. “I’ve given my body to other women, but not much else. I never told them my innermost thoughts, talked about my life, or shared emotion. With you, I wanted that connection from the start. Even when I didn’t realize it, I wanted you. And not just to have sex with you but to know you inside and out. In every way. Sex can be so powerful. And with you, it was consuming to a level that frankly freaked me out.” He passed his palm across his chest. “It feels like when we go there again, I’ll lose myself in you so completely that there’s a part of me I’ll never get back. And I guess, with the way we’re doing this thing, I’m worried it will break me.”

  “Oh,” she murmured. Talk about a punch in the gut. “I didn’t know you held sex in such high regard.”

  “Neither did I,” he said
quietly. “I know my actions before I met you didn’t point to that. But you changed everything.”

  “You changed everything for me too,” she admitted. Her prior experience didn’t connect intimacy with sex like she’d expected. “It was something I tolerated, nothing more. But with you? It was like you and I were the only two people who existed in that moment. I’ve never felt so in tune another person.”

  “Me either. And we didn’t even know each other that well. It was refreshing. And it gave me something to look forward to. I started to think, imagine how it will be when I really know her and she knows me. I couldn’t fathom something so meaningful at the time. But I wanted to. I still want to.”

  Jeni curved her hand around his thigh. “You’ve learned a lot about me these past few months. But I still feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you.”

  He pressed his lips together. “I know. I’m not good at talking about myself, especially my childhood.” He covered her hand with his. “You already know more than anyone else, if it helps.”

  “Will you tell me more?”

  “Sure.”

  She watched him, waiting expectantly.

  He frowned. “What, right now?”

  “Why not? I don’t want to push you, but I want to know everything about you too. Even if it’s not pretty.”

  Logan tilted his neck to the side, like he was stretching the muscles there. He inhaled deeply, as if preparing for a difficult conversation. “Okay.”

  His right knee bobbed up and down, and Jeni lightly squeezed his thigh. He stilled.

  “I’m not really sure where to start.”

  She slid her thumb back and forth across the denim. “I can ask questions. Would that make it easier?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Why did you enter the foster care system?”

  “My mom was a meth addict.”

  Only six words, but they said enough. “Is she still alive?”

  “No.”

  “What was your life like before they took you from her?”

  “We moved around a lot, living with whatever man she’d tied herself to. I have no idea who my biological dad is. I don’t think she did either. Some of the men were okay, but others were mean as hell. Some hit me. When I was six, we ended up in this government assistance apartment complex. We lived there over a year, longer than we’d ever stayed anywhere else. There was an older lady named Paula who lived in the apartment next door to us. She was nice to me and let me come over when Mom was messed up or when she had men over. She fed me and let me watch cartoons and stuff. One day, my mom left me home alone, and I went to Paula’s. My mom never came back. Paula let me stay with her and told the apartment manager she was my grandmother. That put off any questions for the time being.”