Unmistakably Us (Imagine Ink Book 5)
Page 26
Again, Logan found himself on the comforting end of her words. He was fucking lucky to have her.
Logan noticed Jewel had made her way to stand opposite of himself and January. It was hard to miss how Ruger was staring at her with interest. Her responsive blush told Logan he wasn’t the only one to notice. He was about to ask Jan about it when Stacy, Andy, Marco, and pretty much the whole family who weren’t already seated across from them joined Jewel, and they all had shit-eating grins.
Andy seemed to be the elected spokesperson for the group. “The next bit of good news is more of a family affair. Logan, January…we couldn’t be happier as a family to have you both here with us. We are complete in a way with the addition of you two. Not that the Reids will ever stop growing, but you filled a you-shaped puzzle piece we didn’t even know was missing.”
He stopped to clear his throat, and Stacy stepped in. “We got you a fucking amazing wedding gift. Thanks to Jewel here waiving her commission and my superior negotiation skills, we got you the garage you were looking at.”
Logan looked to January for clarification. “But, that was just a pipe dream. I mean, I can’t…we can’t afford it.” Logan hated feeling lost.
“What the hell are we talking about?” he shouted to the excited crowd in front of him.
Leave it to Stacy to condense it to a few sentences. “January wanted to start a life and business with you. She looked at an old garage in the boonies, one with a bay large enough for a small plane even. Then she ran off, you lost your shit, but we kept our cool. Long story short, we bought it and y’all get to keep your hands dirty and run it.”
The enormity set in when Jewel and Andy stepped forward, moved dishes and flowers, and laid out a heap of papers. “We can’t accept that, it’s too much. Thanks for the offer but—”
Francis cut January off. “You can and you will, besides, it’s not free. Think of it more as a family investment. Every single one of us, including Jewel, since she waived her commission, has equal benefits and risk. Until the mortgage is paid, that’s how it’ll stay. Once it’s paid, then it belongs to the two of you to do with what you will, but your part of the investment is the talent, ours is cash. See, equal, a true family business.”
Logan didn’t know what to say; he had nothing. He would be hard pressed to say which made him more speechless—the way the Reids embraced them completely or that January had tried to plan a future with him before he even opened up to her.
There was a flurry of papers to sign, and it all blurred through his eyes brimming with emotion. When the papers were whisked away and activity returned to the pie that was now being served, Logan turned to the woman he loved. She seemed just as overcome with emotion as him.
“Thank God, because I don’t know if my man card could survive it if I was the only one right now,” Logan whispered to himself.
Damn it, I started out as a badass motherfucker when I came to this town, now I’m a fucking emotional pussy. He was half-heartedly joking. Not that he honestly felt there was anything wrong with loving others and being loved, not now, but it had been drilled into his head so a small piece of him still reeled back at the thought. Old habits die hard.
While struggling with what his mind understood but his training didn’t, that’s when he heard it. An odd chuckling that started from a distance but came closer. Fuck, shoulder Kip.
Before shoulder Kip could speak to him, shoulder Gene showed up. “Stuff it, pretty boy,” Gene commanded.
Kip sounded petulant for being scolded. “I didn’t say anything.” In his head, Logan saw shoulder Gene appear on the shoulder occupied by Kip and flick him off. Then, in his crisp black suit, with blood red tie, he casually leaned against Logan’s neck.
“Don’t listen to voices in your head like his or your father’s.”
Or yours?
“I heard that.” Logan was having an argument with himself? And it still wasn’t the strangest thing to ever happen. Shoulder Gene wasn’t deterred by Logan’s jumbled thoughts.
“Having the love of a good woman and loving her back is nothing to be ashamed of. The past is all bullshit. It means nothing to the here and now unless you let it. What’s important is that fine goddess in your arms and family. This family. She’s your heart, the air that you breathe, and the lungs that expand with it. And these folks here, they’re your family. They may not be blood relatives but they are your blood. Lose one and the other cannot function.”
Yep, I’m a crazy fucker, for sure. What a catch. Logan knew it was just his own thoughts. He didn’t really see Gene and Kip, but for some reason, he seemed to accept it coming from the voice of the man January stripped to. Logan laughed aloud at his own certifiable justification.
“What’s so funny?” His wife stared up at him with a look that conveyed she really wanted to know.
“I was just talking to my two shoulder devils who happen to look a lot like Gene Simmons and Kip Winger.”
January’s smile was orgasmic. “So, no angel then, just two devils?” Of course, that’s where she’d focus. She didn’t bat an eye at the fact they were imaginary…and singers, nope, she got hung up on the two devils part. So January.
“Neither had a halo or white wings, but Gene turned out to be a bit more heavenly than he let on in the beginning.”
January squeezed him tightly. “Good, because my man deserves an angel to guide him, and of course, I am not opposed to it being the Demon.”
Logan kissed her soundly. “He’s gone now. They both are. I don’t need them anymore. I have my very own angel, and unlike Gene, I want to see this angel naked.” January rested her head on his shoulder and her hand on his thigh. “And I have a family.”
As much as Logan was enjoying his family and this reception, he needed a distraction so he could whisk January away and back to his room so he could be inside her. He felt like a better man when he was connected to her on such a primitive level.
Ah, Lydia. Nothing could distract this family better than a lost soul in the world looking for their place.
“January, why don’t you tell everyone about your new friend, Lydia?” January turned her confused gaze to him, but it only took her a second to come up to speed.
She squeezed his thigh, higher this time, and whispered, “clever man” in his ear before telling everyone all about Lydia. Tori and Erika were on board practically before she finished speaking.
“Hells yeah,” Tori cheered. “With all the new distractions, it would be a Godsend to have fresh designs and more help with FoRM Wear.”
Tori high-fived Erika, and a unison “excellent” was spoken, and then they both played imaginary licks on air guitars. It was very Bill and Ted.
Logan shifted his focus to Francis, the first woman in decades he had genuine mom-like feelings for. It was the sparkle in her eyes that told him mission Distract With Lydia was a success and he’d be balls deep in his wife within the hour.
“Excellent indeed,” Francis beamed. “I’ve always said a family is never too full as long as there is still love to give. Speaking of love, why don’t you two stop groping each other under the table and go handle your business in private.” Francis tried to scold them, but failed.
Logan grabbed January’s hand and practically yanked her upright. “You don’t need to tell me twice.” Logan leaned over the table and dropped a kiss on Francis’ cheek and everyone gasped, but he ignored it. “Thank you…for everything. I don’t…I mean, I, fuck it. In for a penny, in for a pound, this family rocks and I wanted to say thanks for letting me be a part of it.”
Turning faster than they could react, Logan was through the house and back at the bike in record time. January halted him as he tried to put her helmet on.
“What you said back there, thanks. I know it was high praise coming from you and it’s not easy for you, but you made their night. I could’ve gushed for hours and not made the same impact you did with your,” January imitated his deep register, “this family rocks.” She laid her ha
nds on his cheeks. “I love you, Logan James Chotkey Chapman.”
A lump blocked his throat. It was the first time he’d heard that name spoken by someone other than himself since he was a boy. Even when he shared it earlier with his family, no one repeated it, not even Michael. It was his true last name, and he was certainly taking it back, for real now. It was the part that bound him to his brother, which led him here to the Reids, to January, and to a real future. It wasn’t bad when he looked at it like that.
“Now get this helmet on and straddle that damn bike. You heard Francis, there’s always room for love, so let’s get back to my room and make love.”
“Oh, God, you’re so cheesy,” January cheerily complained as she pulled the helmet down.
Logan grabbed his and did the same. “But you love my cheese, Rabbit.”
January agreed.
“Don’t ever forget, you chose it. Over all other cheeses, you picked mine.” Logan threw his leg over the bike and fired it up.
“That I did, babe. That I did,” January shouted over the roar of the engine as Logan turned the bike and peeled out of the driveway and down that country road into the muggy Florida night.
THE END
Dear Reader
Thanks for sticking with the Reid family through thick and thin. It’s a bittersweet goodbye, but all good things must come to an end…or do they?
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Books by Verlene Landon
IMAGINE INK
Indelible You Imagine Ink 1
(Walker & Erika)
Brand Me Imagine Ink 2
(Tori & Michael)
Irrevocably Mine Imagine Ink 3
(Big Dax & Stacy)
Inevitably Yours Imagine Ink 4
(Augusta & John)
Unmistakably Us Imagine Ink 5
(Logan & January)
ANTHOLOGIES
Vegas Strong
(Charity: The Code Green Campaign)
Coming Soon!
Branches of Healing: Tales of Unsung Heroes
(Charity: Healing Paws For Warriors)
About the Author
Verlene was born and raised in the south. Thanks to the military, she's traveled the US, but now calls Sin City home.
Self proclaimed zombie apocalypse enthusiast, word porn peddler, human canvas, Manowarrior, serial grammar killer, rabid Bama fan, Harley rider, accidental dust bunny population specialist, obsessed with all things Lemmy, and abuser of the word f*ck.
She's thrown live grenades, survived the tear gas chamber and forced road marches, but still believes writing and publishing are more brutal.
Verlene loves to hear from her readers. Feel free to email her at Verlene@VerleneLandon.com.
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