by Bailey B
“Of course I did. She’s yours, too.”
“You always say your daughter.”
Danika rolls her eyes and attempts to pull her hand away but I hold on tight. Doesn’t she know that now I’ve got her again I’m never letting go? “Semantics, Logan. Don’t ruin this.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Seriously?” Danika raises her eyebrows and looks around the room. “A country bar?”
“Don’t knock it ‘till you try it. This place is a blast.” I veer to my right and take a seat at the bar. Danika wordlessly follows, taking in the place.
From the outside, the Rusted Nail isn’t anything special. It’s like every other bar around town; it’s got a place to get a drink, some pool tables, and a dance floor. What makes this dinky bar amazing are the custom cocktails, the exquisite food, and the live band every night. It draws people our age from all over the county and I’ve yet to have a bad time here.
Tammy, one of the two bartenders on duty tonight, strolls over with a Corona in hand and sets it in front of me. “Well, look what the cat dragged in!”
“Please.” I roll my eyes and take Tammy’s beer, immediately handing it to Danika.
Tammy looks at me curiously but grabs another from the ice box under the counter and hands it to me. “I haven’t seen you in a minute, Harris. What have you been up to?”
I put my hand on Danika’s lower back and push her a step forward. “This pretty lady has consumed my every waking thought, but she barely gives me the time of day. So, I’ve been hanging out at her house after work, forcing my way back into her life.”
“Really?” Tammy crosses her arms and sizes up Danika. She’s seen me leave more nights than not with a chick on my arm. A few times it was her, but I don’t do repeats often because they get attached and I never show up with a girl. I can only imagine what she’s thinking. “No offense, but how did she manage to settle you down?”
“She,” Danika sits on my knee and leans against my chest. I wrap my arms around her waist. This is nice. “Had his baby a little more and four years ago. So, she seems to be pretty fucking important.”
Tammy’s jaw all but falls on the floor. “What the fuck, Logan? You never told me you had a kid.”
“Why would he? You're his bartender, not his girlfriend.” Danika reaches up and runs her nails down the back of my neck. I’ve never seen Danika act like this. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she was jealous. Whatever this is, I fucking love it.
Tammy’s face flushes. She’s working hard to keep it together and massively failing. “Listen bitch, you may be the flavor of the week but Logan always comes back to me. Sooner or later he’ll end up in my bed again and you’ll be broken-hearted like all the rest.”
“Okay.” I slide Danika off my lap and stand. “Tammy, good to see you but I think Danika will get our drinks from Greg the rest of the night.”
“Are you kidding me, Logan?” Tammy’s ruby red lips fall open.
Danika smirks and leans on the counter. “Hey,Tammy?”
“What?” She growls.
“I hate to break it to you.” Danika reaches across the bartop and sets her hand on Tammy’s arm. “But your run with Logan is done.”
“Excuse me?”
“You see, Logan and me, no matter how much we hate each other, we’re soul mates.” Danika reaches into the plastic box on the counter and plucks out a maraschino cherry from the fruit holder. “You were just the bitch keeping his bed warm until I came home.”
28
Danika
“I don’t like her.”
Logan puts his hand on my lower back and pushes me away from the bar. More specifically, away from the eagle-eyed barwench. “I’m sorry about Tammy. She’s not normally such a bitch.”
“She likes you.” I huff, feeling like a kid in the sandbox forced to share my favorite toy. My eyes scan the room. We’re surrounded by beautiful women, most of which have yet to stop looking at Logan. An angry beast twists inside me. I want to punch all of them in the face, making their eyes swell shut so they stop staring at him. “Seems like a lot of people like you.”
He takes my hand and pulls me into him. “Can you blame them? I mean, look at me.”
“Since when did you start fishing for compliments?”
Logan ignores my question and twirls me once as the band begins to play a slow song. I rest my cheek against his chest, listening to the thrumming of his heart match the beat of the drums. I close my eyes, feeling the world spin and my inhibitions fall. Seems like alcohol is good for that. Pulling me out of my head and making me enjoy the moment for what it is.
Logan takes my hand from around his neck and steps back. He spins me once then pulls me tight against him again. I try not to think about all the girls he’s danced with while I was gone. How they probably felt the same nervous heat spreading through their bodies. Or how when they gazed into those beautiful brown eyes, he’d dip his head and press his mouth against theirs.
I look up at Logan and he smiles down at me. The song ends but neither of us move. The tension between us thickens. Logan’s looking at my lips. He inches closer and for a split second I want him to kiss me, but then I remember all the faceless girls he's pulled this same move on and I can’t. I take a step back and try to smile but all those faces, so many faces, make that hard. “Want to play darts?”
“Sure.” Logan takes my rejection with a grain of salt, probably because he never really wanted my lips. He puts his arm around me and leads us to the board. He swipes his card, because apparently bar games don’t take quarters anymore, then grabs the plastic darts from a cup. “Ladies first.”
“Look at that. There’s a gentleman inside you yet.” I toss my first dart, completely missing the board, earning a deep throated chuckle. I’ve never been good at math, which is why I don’t play pool. Apparently, I’m just as bad at darts.
“Would it help if I walked over there?” Logan points aimlessly over his shoulder towards the board. “You seem distracted.”
I toss another, hitting the small red square on the number nine triangle. “Go wherever you want. You’re still going to lose.”
“Oh really?” He twists the skinny plastic between his thumb and forefinger. “And if I win?”
“You won’t.” He probably will.
Logan saunters to the high top table in the corner and leans one arm against the back of the chair. “But if I do, I want to take you on a date. A proper date.”
“Fine, but if I win, you have to clean the gutters at Sarah’s house.”
“Done. Throw that last dart so I can whoop your ass.”
I raise my dart and close one eye. I will hit that bullseye. I will win this game because I refuse to go on a date with Logan. Granted, when I tell Sarah about tonight she’s gonna argue I already have but that’s not what this is. This is two people hanging out together at a bar. If Logan wanted to bail on me to hook up with some chick I wouldn’t stop him because: This. Is. Not. A. Date.
I toss my dart and it lands in the tiny triangle near the bullseye on the number seventeen. I throw my arms up. “Yes!”
Logan slow claps, mocking my stellar throw. “Not bad, Dani. But you’re still gonna lose.”
I roll my eyes, shimmy onto the bar stool and cross my legs. “Mmmhmm. Your odds of winning this game are about as good as getting a kiss tonight. Next to none.”
Logan points the back of the dart at me and smirks. “So, if I win, I get a kiss too? I’m holding you to that.”
“Whatever. Are you going to throw? Or what?”
Logan tosses his first dart, never once breaking eye contact. I stare him down, feeling triumphant. He takes his next dart and throws, then does the same with the last. The corner of his lips tug up into a grin as he steps towards me. “Now, how’s about that kiss?”
“There’s no way—” my words die in my throat. Logan’s hit the bullseye with one dart and the tiny green circle around it with the other two. I look up at him d
umbfounded. “How?”
He steps between my legs and sets his palms on the wall behind me. I suck in a breath, holding it as every muscle in my body stiffens. He’s dangerously close and as much as I keep telling myself I don’t want to kiss him, I have to fight not to look at those lips. Logan tilts his head and presses his mouth to my cheek. “I know how you feel about me. Don’t worry, when I claim that kiss, no one will be around to watch. It’ll be our little secret.”
29
Logan
Danika is a hot mess. I should have cut her off hours ago, but with the exception of the wedding, I’ve never seen her drunk. Even then, I didn’t get to enjoy the ride getting to that point. Tonight, I took full advantage—not like that.
What I mean is we danced, she drank (I haven’t had anything since we left McGillicuddy’s), and I even kept my cool when some prick in a cowboy hat hit on her. I fully expected Danika to roll with it, too. The guy was good looking enough, she was beyond drunk, and he hovered close with one compliment after the other. When she didn’t immediately shoo the guy away, my heart sank to my feet. But then the guy reached up and tucked a lock of hair behind Danika’s ear, something in her pretty mind clicked, because she looked around, spotted me leaning against the pool table, and left that guy in the dust without a word.
That was the moment I knew she felt it, too. The inferno searing the world around us. With each touch, each look, the flames draw nearer. Sooner or later, we’re gonna get burned. Doesn’t matter. I’m ready.
If I play my cards right, I might actually have a shot at getting Danika back. Thank fucking god.
“Where to next, Captain?” she giggles.
I wrap my arm around her waist, mostly to make sure she doesn’t stumble and fall, partly because I like touching her. “Home. It’s late and knowing how you handle your alcohol, you’re going to have one mean hangover in the morning.”
Danika groans. “I don’t wanna. Sarah’s probably fucking that tattooed dude she started dating. Love her to bits but the bitch is a screamer.”
Danika covers her ears and shakes her head, as if she were in bed listening to the sounds. I fight a chuckle and open the car door for her. “Well, where do you want to go?”
Danika doesn’t immediately answer. Instead she gets in and stares at her hands. I close the door and walk around to my side of the vehicle. It’s not until I’m on the highway, headed back to town, that she finally speaks up. “Can we go to your place?”
“My place?” I ask, making sure I heard her right.
Danika nods and tucks her hair behind her ears. “Yeah. I… um… I’d like to see where you live.”
“And after?” I’m pushing my luck, asking questions I’m not ready for. I know what I want her to say but highly doubt the words will leave her lips. Still, I have hope.
“I guess we’ll see.”
Forty minutes later, we’re passing through the gate at my subdivision. I live about ten minutes from our parents, who live in my childhood home. Danika’s dad rented out his house last year after he proposed. It made sense. Mom had the bigger house, more suited for the unlikely holiday everyone was home.
Walter offered it to me, considering I spent more nights under his roof than in my own home, but I couldn’t take it. Staying there would have been a sweet form of torture. It reminded me of what I lost and probably would never find again.
I’m not talking about love. People find love over and over again. Your heart cracks a little with each breakup but it never truly shatters. I lost my best friend, my soul mate. The person I was inexplicably drawn to. When Danika disappeared on me, my heart didn’t just crack. Everything inside me shattered and it’s only when we’re together that I feel the shards begin to come together again.
I roll into my driveway and click the button to open my garage door. Danika’s knocked out, head pressed against the window, mouth open. It’s goddamn adorable.
I sit there and watch her for a minute, feeling like a full blown creep. After I don’t know how long, Danika’s eyes lazily open and she smiles. “Are we here?”
“Yeah, babe, we’re here.”
“Awesome.” She pushes the button to unclick her seatbelt. “I’m hungry.”
I get out and jog around the car to open Danika’s door. I hold out my hand for her, to help her up, and then wrap my arm around her waist. Last thing I want is for tonight to end in a hospital visit because she tripped over her own feet.
There’s nothing grand about my house. It’s your basic cookie-cutter, subdivision home with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and an open layout. It’s more than I need, but I think deep down I always hoped someone would come along and tame my wild ways. I wanted a family one day, with kids and a dog.
Now, I want my family with my girl and my daughter. Too many years ago I promised myself I’d never stop fighting for Danika. In all the ways that mattered I had, up until she walked into that hotel. I didn’t expect to fall for her again, and I damn sure didn’t expect to learn I’ve been a father this whole time. Molly brings my “fight for my girl” promise to a whole new level.
Danika wiggles out of my hold and practically runs to my kitchen counter. “You have bagels?” she gasps, clutching the roll of round bread to her chest.
I grab two glasses from the cabinet and fill them with water from the fridge. “I take it you want one?”
Danika gives me a look that says I’m stupid and fumbles with the tie around the bag. “Bagels are the magic hangover food. You eat it before bed and poof, no hangover.”
“Good to know.” I set the cups on the counter and step back to the fridge for the tub of cream cheese. It’s vegan, like my butter. Back in the day I bought all vegan household staples in the event Danika decided to return to me. Now, I like the way they taste.
“You have Vialife!” Danika gasps reaching for a knife in the block on the counter.
“Easy there, killer.” I take the giant steak knife from her hand and set it back into the holder. I place my hands on her hips and guide her around the kitchen island to a bar stool.”Why don’t you let me do the late night snack making?”
Danika nods and spins in her seat, looking at my decor. “Your house is not at all what i expected.”
I set the plate in front of her and lean my elbows on the counter. “Oh yeah? What did you think you’d find?”
She shrugs and takes a bite. “I don’t know. Beer cans everywhere. Takeout boxes. Maybe a futon.”
“Eesh.” I grab the other half of her late night snack, earning the stink eye glare. “Way to stereotype me.”
“Well, Sarah says you’ve been single forever and Ryan told me you're basically a functioning alcoholic, so…”
All of which is true, but it sounds terrible leaving her lips. I cover my heart with my hands, exaggerating the ache I feel. “Ouch.”
Danika polishes off her half then adds, “Truth hurts.”
I follow Danika as she slides off the stool and ambles around my living room. She walks to one side of the house and peeks into the guest bedroom, which has never been slept in. “So, what do you want to do?”
“Look around.” She moves to the next door— the guest bedroom—and then the next—my office. She crosses through the living room again, stopping at my bedroom. She looks over her shoulder, waiting for me to object. When I don’t she opens the door and walks in.
My room is simple. Spotless. There are no dirty clothes piled on the floor, like when I was a kid. The two guitars I own hang on the wall, one on each side of my king sized headboard. I have a short, six-drawer dresser and a sixty inch TV mounted to the wall. Plain. Normal. Boring. “Not what you expected?”
Danika kicks her shoes off and leans against the footboard of my bed. “Logan?”
My heart races faster with each step. Being with Danika is like dancing around a fire. I have a feeling that tonight, I’m going to get burned.
30
Danika
I drank too much. Somehow, I have a way of doi
ng this around Logan. He brings out the best and the worst in me all at once. Lowering my inhibitions with nothing but a look and making me crave his touch. I’d never do this sober, not with the lingering awkwardness that’s always around when it comes to Molly. And us.
Is there an us?
Do I want us to be us?
Good looks aside, what’s broken down my walls when it comes to Logan is how amazing of a father he is. He and Molly have a bond I can only dream of and it’s barely been a month. What would they have been like if he had been in her life this whole time?
Would she talk more?
Talk to me?
I regret every day that I walked away without giving Logan a fair chance, but the man I have standing before me isn’t the man I knew in high school. He’s better. Stronger. Not the utter mess I thought he’d be.
I take the soft cotton of his shirt between my fingers and pull him closer. Those lips have teased me all night, tempted me with a promised kiss, and I want it.
Now.
“Danika—”
I want to feel him so badly, my sex aches. I suck the lobe of his ear into my mouth. With liquid courage running through my veins, I can do this. I can make Logan mine, even if it’s only for tonight. Consequences be damned. “Stop talking.”
Logan groans deep in his throat then grabs me by the nape of the neck. His fingers are firm against my skin, pulling me away from him. There’s a fire in his eyes that should frighten me, but it only turns me on more. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.”
I slide my hand beneath the band of his pants, rough jeans scraping my knuckles. Under the thin cotton of his boxers, I grip his silky shaft. It’s hard, the end sticky with precum. I stifle a moan, remembering how good it felt to have him inside me. I crave him there more than an addict yearns for their next fix. “Is that a challenge?”
Logan pulls my mouth to his, spreading my lips with his tongue. He kisses me like a man who’s been starved. There is no gentleness tonight, no soft caresses against my skin. His fingers knead my muscles as they slide down my back, finding my hips. He lifts me off my feet and throws me onto the bed, ripping my lips from his.