Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5)

by Verlene Landon

  When her eyes opened, they held a challenge. “Good stuff, right?” Shit, she’d heard him insulting her coffee.

  After raising his mug in salute, he downed the vile contents. “Yep,” he answered as he lowered the empty vessel to the table, hoping she wouldn’t refill it.

  She rose and collected his cup. “Liar.” It was faint, but Logan heard it.

  “Excuse me?” Panic was the only way to describe what he felt. If Tori knew, did Michael? Was this the real reason for this little intervention of sorts, to call him out on his lies instead of the whole January fiasco?

  At his question, Tori turned from the sink where she deposited the mugs. Crossing her legs and arms, she leaned against the counter.

  “I called you a liar, Logan Chapman.” Oh shit, oh, shit, oh shit.

  “Tori…” What could he even say at this point? What would be the purpose of denial except to further add to his crimes?

  “That is the most vile brew I’ve ever tasted, and you slammed five cups. Either your taste buds are on a permanent vacation or you’re a liar, so which is it? Now, before you answer, I happen to know you have excellent taste, I mean, you joined up with this crew. Not to mention you fell for a chick so beautiful, she could make me consider batting for the other team at least once, so I guess you’re a liar.” Pausing only to retrieve two more mugs, Tori turned her head enough to place her finger vertically over her lips.

  He recognized the international sign for silence, and he nodded. Not sure what he’d just agreed to.

  His sister-in-law—for all intents and purposes—spoke once more as she fished around in the very back of the shelf above the refrigerator. “If you’ll just admit the truth, I can make sure you’ll be a lot happier.” Her words sent a chill through his entire system. What the hell? He thought he’d just dodged a bullet, but now it seemed like she was fucking with him. Dangling the carrot just out of reach.

  Her last word was sing-songy, and if he hadn’t been so consumed by his own big secret, he would have noticed her waving a coffee pod in front of her face triumphantly.

  “This is the good stuff, and if you tell the truth, that that swill wasn’t worth pissing in, I’ll share my secret stash with you.”

  “Yes, it tasted like ass,” Logan admitted once his brain finally caught up to reality. “Why do you even have that crap, anyway?”

  Tori turned with a little hop at his admission and started brewing a cup of heaven. “Michael loves it. Chicory or some shit. Says it’s the best thing ever. I just tell him how awesome it is because he’s so devoted to it and when I took my first sip, he was like a kid at Christmas watching me.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “But, as soon as he turns around, I dump that shit and replace it with a cup of this pure ambrosia.”

  Logan was blown away by that little secret. She drank sips of something she couldn’t stand all in the name of making his brother happy. That kind of sacrifice, no matter how small, was something Logan wasn’t used to witnessing or experiencing.

  After bringing the mugs back to the table, she resumed her previous position. This time, he noticed the difference when she reacted to her sip. “Why would you do that?”

  She flatly stated, “Because I love him and would do anything to make him smile, even consuming some of that vile liquid.”

  That! That is what Logan now wanted. Before, this would have been a roll your eye moment at the lame people drinking shitty coffee, when they really didn’t need to. If they both felt the same way, one wouldn’t want the other to give up a damn thing and the other would…still do it.

  That was a realization he hadn’t been expecting when his mind wandered down this path. Tori’s voice brought him back.

  “Don’t let my stash go to waste, drink up.” Logan did as she commanded and found himself making the same sounds she had earlier. “See how much sweeter life tastes when you embrace the truth?”

  Okay, this was way too coincidental for her not to be talking about something else. The way her gaze fell on him as they drank their coffee in silence told him all he needed to know. Somehow, she knew or at the very least suspected that he was Michael’s brother.

  With a heavy sign laden with shame, Logan lowered the cup to the glass-covered, carved surface, another of Dax’s one-of-a-kind masterpieces. “You know, don’t you?” It wasn’t even a question at this point. The gig was up, and Logan was relieved. After everything he’d lost, it seemed like a fitting way to cap off the weekend from Hell.

  The smile that graced Tori’s beautiful face was blinding. She’s smiling, what the fuck? Setting her mug down and popping up like her ass was on fire, Tori spoke on her way out of the kitchen. “I don’t have the foggiest idea what you’re talking about, but I should get Michael.”

  Foggiest idea, my ass. There was so much sugary sweet innocence in those words, she sure as fuck knew and wanted Michael to be the first one he told.

  As soon as she exited the kitchen, she spun before her ass even left his view. Grabbing the mugs, she dumped the contents into the sink while muttering apologies for being wasteful. After rinsing the cup, she brewed another cup of that crap in his original mug and set it in front of him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, can’t let the secret out.”

  Before she could bounce away, Logan gently grasped her wrist. “Thank you, Tori.” His voice was low and wobbly. He had never had someone worry about his interest as much as the Reids had. Even with this massive secret, one that would hurt her husband, she cared.

  When she placed her hand on top of his, he almost lost his shit and cried. “No thanks needed. It’s what family does. Just remember to be one hundred percent honest, even if it paints people in a bad light and causes pain. Michael doesn’t tolerate half truths and could never build trust on them.” With a gentle squeeze, she disappeared to retrieve his brother. That was the first time he’d even thought of him that way without hesitation or pain, just joy and hope.

  Ha, take that Chotkey douchebags. In spite of your best efforts, Logan has a measure of joy and hope. Fuckers. Logan drank half a cup of the chicory coffee and didn’t wince. He wanted to drink it. In some way, after Tori’s confession, it made him feel a connection to his brother.

  When Michael sauntered into the kitchen, he dominated the room. Logan viewed him in a different light. This was his little brother. Not the one he blamed or resented, but one he—loved. Apparently, he was sprinkling that shit around like glitter at a pony party. Logan nodded and raised his mug in salute and took a swig. “Ah.”

  His little brother busied himself brewing a cup of his own. Michael turned, crossed his feet at the ankle, and leaned against the counter. Sipping the brew with an appreciation that no one else really got, he bragged about it just as Tori had described. “Good stuff, right? It’s the chicory. It’s like the nectar of the gods.” His face lit up, a look Logan mourned missing out on for years.

  Even so, Logan was ill-prepared for how that radiant look went nuclear when he sipped it with an appreciation to rival Michael’s own. Logan didn’t have to fake it as much as he thought, because like Tori, the appreciation was real, just not for the coffee. It was for the happiness it incited. Such a simple fucking thing made his brother so happy. Holy shit, I get it. I fucking get it. That was a first, a scary first, an incidence when someone else’s happiness meant more than his own. He finished the cup because he wanted to recapture that…that rush.

  Like an anvil dropped from a mountain by a roadrunner, it hit him—he felt that way about January. He would do anything to have her gift him with that winning smile. Yes, he had already admitted to the dreaded L word, but this realization made it not dreaded. What he was experiencing now was life. No more shell days. No, he would do whatever he had to do to make her happy…anything except letting her marry another man she didn’t love.

  Logan could see that now. She didn’t love that other dickbag. She loved him…he just knew it. Even an Academy Award-winning actress couldn’t have faked what they had. She was making
someone else happy; that would be the only thing stronger than what he experienced on a visceral level that she felt for him.

  A plan, that’s what he needed. He couldn’t rush in half-cocked or he would screw this up and push her further away. Besides, there was only one person she loved enough to protect that way, and he would need to know why. Logan would be the man who made her smile like that or he’d die trying.

  Even though Logan thought them gone for good, shoulder Gene and Kip decided it was time to pipe up again.

  “Hey, look at that, Kip, the boy finally gets it.”

  “Yep, our work here is done, for real this time.”

  “Don’t screw it up by reverting. We’re out.”

  Just like that, he found a peace he’d never known, all with the help of a couple of miniature imaginary rock gods and the Reids.

  Buuuut, first thing’s first. I have to tell Michael and remove that barrier from between us…and between me and January. He had selfishly put her and the whole Reid clan in an impossible situation. One he could rectify right now.

  With an impressive deep breath, he launched it. “Michael, I’m your brother, well, half-brother. I didn’t come here with the purist of intentions, but if you’d give me a chance, I’d love nothing more than to clear the air between us and maybe tell you about your amazing mother.”

  Michael didn’t seem angry or shocked, but he did seem leery, which was completely expected after a bomb like that was just lobbed in his modern kitchen.

  “Well,” Michael placed his cup in the sink and motioned for Logan to follow him. Once in the very packed living room, Michael took a seat next to his wife and motioned for Logan to grab a chair. “We are all family here, so I think everyone should hear this. Start at the beginning and don’t leave a fucking thing out. I’ll reserve my stance on this matter until then.”

  “Fair enough.” Logan breathed a small sigh of relief. Michael didn’t throw him out on his ass. While his words and set of his jaw were harsh, reminding him of their father, there was a softness too. Logan dared to see it as a level of acceptance and hope. That word again. It would either be the death of him or it would be his life.

  Eighteen

  Each minute with her parents was like a lifetime in Hell’s waiting room. Everything about them grated on her last fucking nerve, but she had to find a way out that hurt the least people.

  Her mother was oh so happy she had “come to her senses.” That little bit of belief on her parents’ part led to them lowering their guard a little. At least they didn’t have security posted below her window in case she bolted. They even told her if she needed the car today, she could use it.

  Of course, the suggestion had been to use it to get something done with her hair so her fiancé’s mother didn’t think she was raised by wolves at her fitting tomorrow.

  Sadly, she couldn’t finagle an out before the fitting from Hell so she’d have to plaster that smile on her face a bit longer. Chadwick’s mother and hers were cut from the same cloth. Both were controlling cunts who made an art form out of manipulation. The major difference was their kids. The Chadwick apple didn’t fall far from the dysfunctional tree, but for the most part, she and Augusta were decent human beings.

  At least, she had always thought she was, until she saw that look of utter disbelief on Logan’s face. She had done that, her, good person January Snow Thorne. The kicker was, she knew it was coming sooner or later. She had planned to steal away, so as not to witness it. That didn’t really change the fact that it would be there.

  Holy shit, I embraced the Thorne gene with gusto. Realizing she was just as bad as the rest of them did nothing to help her current mood or amp up her planning skills. She needed to focus. January vowed on her very own heart to make it up to Logan. And if he gives me another chance, I’ll show him that I’ll always choose him first.

  January needed a little space so she took her mother up on the car loan and made an appointment with the only salon open on Sunday, but first, she would hit the Internet café and make some phone calls.

  Rolling in to the coffee shop felt surreal, not the café itself, but what she was about to do. Defying her parents was inevitable, but theory and application were two different things. Not to mention she was about to spill all to another person. She’d shared the partial truth with both Andy and Stacy a few days before she sprained her wrist, but shame be damned and she hoped Augusta would survive the ripple effect and the tsunami named Melody that would wash over all their lives.

  Something in that final week in Florida had given her a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe she and Gus could handle it. For a few hours of her lifetime, she had lived a fantasy with a future of her own making. Looking at a potential shop and business opportunity, asking Andy and Stacy for legal advice, and actually making a plan of her own. That was short-lived as reality crept in on her dreams. She’d realized she hadn’t had the guts to fight her parents and was grateful at the time for confidentiality.

  Now, it was different…her resolve was different, and her motivation was ultimate.

  “Hi, Andy, it’s me. Do you have a minute or twenty?”

  “Hello, January. How are you doing, hon?”

  Andy’s voice was always so soothing, laden with concern and love. “Before you answer, don’t give me some canned bullshit response, I asked because I want to know, really.”

  Her exhale was shuddering but beneficial, like letting go. “I have certainly been better. My life is a mess, my heart is shredded, and I need help to fix it.”

  “It’s about damn time. You had me testing the limits of confidentiality, I’ll have you know. Now, who do I need to bury first and how far under do you want them?”

  She’d figured between Andy and Stacy, they had as much information as was possible. She had signed standard papers with both when she’d first consulted them about leaving Florida, Demon, money, and of course, her parental troubles, some anyway. When she’d mentioned the contracts in general, she had shocked herself. Those were never talked about outside of the Thorne household. It was almost a physical pain in her head to do so, but after she spoke the words, there was an encompassing sense of relief.

  She’d even run the possibility of opening a garage past Andy at one point. Hypothetical based information, of course, but neither Stacy or Andy were stupid.

  January spilled the rest of the info he and Stacy would need. “My biggest concern with going forward is protecting Augusta from as much pain and humiliation as possible.”

  “Of course, honey. There is nothing in the world I wouldn’t do to protect that woman, you know that. She means the world to me, and hell, Stacy would turn into a rabid pit bull in stilettos to protect her.” He paused but January knew it was pregnant with something she wasn’t going to enjoy.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  “You do know that it’s better that she’s warned, right? Even if we keep the public stink to a minimum, she will find out that her parents betrayed her. I think it’s better that she hear that from someone who loves her, yes?”

  January agreed with it in principal but not in practical application. “Can we wait until the last possible minute? I just don’t…I mean…she…” January trailed off, unable to truly express what she felt.

  “Of course, you’re my client. That’s your call, but you know my opinion on it, so let’s move on. How are you holding up? I know the pressure to maintain appearances until we get our ducks in a row is weighing heavy on you, but you don’t have to do any of this. I am the best fucking representation you could have, and I can handle this better than you think. Oh, and when I do, I’ll accept apologies in the form of free tune-ups on my car for a year and your undying gratitude, by the way.”

  Andy’s joking mood was contagious, but she was still anchored in a somber place. “I know you are, although Stacy may have something to say about that. It’s just, close to home, you know. As for the tune-ups, well, we need to get this cleared up first, then ask Frank if I can u
se his place and tools.”

  “Orrr, you could dive in head-first and buy that shop you wanted and you and Logan can walk off into the sunset with grease under your nails in soiled overalls.”

  January laughed her fist genuine laugh since she’d left with her parents. It was a picture she could see vividly and would give anything to make it a reality. Hell, I am giving anything.

  “I thought you’d like that. Listen, if I can’t get you to agree to come back here until this is settled, at least promise you won’t do anything permanent to reiterate the fact that the wedding is your idea. Even if we handle your parents, the Rodgers family could try to sue for damages and humiliation for lack of a better description. So no announcements in the paper, being photographed as a happy couple, or anything like that. If you insist on pretending for your own personal reasons, just keep that in mind, not that I can’t handle it, it will just cost you an additional year in automotive maintenance.”

  “Okay, but I do have a wedding dress fitting tomorrow. It’s at a private boutique and the groom,” she grated the word, “won’t be there.”

  “I would advise against it, but I know it’s falling on deaf ears, so the best I can say is act flat about it. Don’t lather on the excitement, even to keep your mom’s suspicions down. Besides, from what you’ve told me, she expects you to be less than thrilled. Hey, by the way, remember when I said it would be unlikely I would need to consult any experts?”

  “Yeah.” January had panicked when he had mentioned it the first time because she figured the less people who knew the better.

  “I may need to consult with people I feel would be experts in some areas that concern me. Nothing for you to worry about, the people I involve I trust implicitly, I just wanted to give you a heads up since I know that concerns you.”

  Something about Andy’s tone gave her pause, but she couldn’t worry about that now. “Shit, I’m going to be late for my appointment. I gotta run. Thanks for everything, Andy. If this works out, I’ll owe you a hell of a lot more than spark plugs and oil changes.”