I blushed.
He turned to Maia, who was at my side. “Maia.” He winked at her.
She blushed.
Logan groaned and glowered at his sister. “We need to get you a new fiancé.”
Shannon grinned, looking more than a tad smug. “He can’t help that he’s gorgeous.”
I think Maia and I blushed even harder.
“Oh God. Don’t be filling his head with that nonsense.” Cam gave Cole a teasing shove toward the table. “It’s big enough.”
“I’ll have you know I have just the right amount of ego,” Cole shot back before pulling out Shannon’s chair for her. I noted Cam did the same for Jo and Logan did the same for Maia.
It was such a gentlemanly thing to do. And here I thought chivalry was dead.
Before I could pull out my own chair, Logan slid around Maia’s and did it for me. I smiled at his kindness and settled in across from Jo.
“Where’s Belle?” Maia said immediately, looking disappointed.
I had to rack my brain, but I was sure Belle was Jo and Cam’s daughter.
“Oh, our friends Hannah and Marco are babysitting Belle. They have two boys and a daughter, Sophia, who is close to Belle’s age. They’re like cousins. They’re really close,” Jo explained.
“Hannah is Cole’s best friend,” Logan added for Maia’s benefit. “She’s a high school English teacher.”
Maia’s eyes widened. “At my school?”
Logan shook his head. “She doesn’t work there.”
“Thank God,” Maia murmured, and then blushed when everyone laughed. “Sorry. I just really don’t want to know one of my teachers outside of school.”
“Hannah can always help you though,” Cole said. “She’s happy to tutor after school.”
“Thanks, but Grace helps me with my English homework.” Maia grinned up at me, and now I had everyone’s attention.
“Oh? What do you do, Grace?” Cam said.
“I’m a freelance book editor. Mostly self-published fiction but some academic papers as well.”
“Really?” Jo leaned forward, looking extremely interested. “Our friend is a writer, and she’s thinking about self-publishing this series her publisher doesn’t want. She’s been looking for an editor.”
Yay for me! Dinner had suddenly turned into a potential client. “Oh, well, I’ll give you my number to give to her, and my Web site. What’s her name?”
“Jocelyn. She writes under ‘J. B. Carmichael.’”
My jaw dropped.
Jo snorted.
Her snort was quickly followed by muffled laughter around the table.
Clearly my face was a picture.
Considering J. B. Carmichael was a number-one Sunday Times bestseller, however, I think I was entitled to my surprise.
“You’re friends with J. B. Carmichael?” I said.
“This feels like déjà vu.” Cole grinned cheekily at Shannon, and she threw her napkin at him for some bizarre reason.
Jo ignored them. “Yes.” She smiled. “Can I still give her your number?”
“Wait.” I glanced down the table at Logan. “Is J. B. Carmichael our landlord, Braden – your boss’s – wife?”
“Yeah.”
“And you just didn’t think it was important to mention that his wife was a bestselling author?”
Logan’s eyes glimmered with amusement. “Not really.”
“Have you not seen her flat?” Maia jumped in for me. “It’s, like, overflowing with books. Including J. B. Carmichael’s books. You could have told her.”
Cole found this even more hilarious.
“Can we maybe stop calling her ‘J. B. Carmichael’?” Cam asked the whole table. “It’s weird.”
“Agreed.” Jo nodded and turned back to me. “Can I give Joss your number?”
Joss, I mouthed. “Joss.” I managed to utter the word. “Yes. Yes, you can definitely do that.”
Holy crap. There was a possibility J. B. Carmichael could be my client. That would look amazing on my Web site!
“We’ve lost her,” Logan said.
I rolled my eyes at him. “You have not. I’m here.” I grinned huge. “I’m just happier than I was ten minutes ago.”
He burst out laughing but was stopped from responding by the pretty waitress hovering over him. She grinned down at him, cocking her hip toward him. Logan’s own grin deepened.
I felt an unpleasant sensation in my stomach.
“Can I get you guys drinks?” the waitress asked the table while looking into Logan’s eyes. She was just his type. Petite, blond, with exaggerated curves.
“Water for the table,” Logan said.
“Anything else?”
“Guys?” he asked us without taking his eyes off her.
I wanted to punch him.
Hard.
“I like your tattoo,” the waitress said. “Does it mean something?”
“It definitely means something.” He grinned suggestively at her.
Shannon shot him an annoyed look before turning to us. “A bottle of wine?”
We nodded.
“Red?” Jo asked.
We all nodded again.
“A bottle of the house red,” Logan said. “Maia.” He finally wrenched his eyes away from the waitress to look at Maia. He frowned when he found her glaring daggers at him. “What do you want to drink, sweetheart?”
Instead of answering, she buried her nose in her menu.
He looked at me for answers and I glanced down at Maia, unable to look him in the eye. I had no right to feel jealous or hurt by his flirting with another woman. Maia… she had a right to be confused by how it made her feel. I imagined right now she wanted Logan all to herself. “Diet Coke, sweetheart?” I asked her softly.
She nodded.
“Diet Coke,” I said, snapping open my own menu.
I heard him mutter the drink to the waitress, and as soon as she left, I felt his burning stare. I ignored it and looked up at Jo and Cam. “So Logan didn’t tell me what you two do for a living.”
“I work with my uncle Mick. I’m a painter and decorator,” Jo said.
This surprised me, but I tried to hide it. I imagine looking the way she looked, she was used to people making all sorts of snap judgments about her. “That must be fun working with family.”
She nodded. “It can be, yeah.” She nudged Cam with her shoulder. “Cam’s a graphic designer.”
“Oh? Do you work for yourself or…?”
“Both. I work for a marketing company full-time, but I also codesign with multimedia artists.”
I knew Cole was famous in the tattoo industry because he was the top artist at INKarnate, a tattoo studio in Edinburgh of national acclaim. I wondered if he was inspired by Cam and asked. From there the two of them kept me entertained, with Jo and Shannon interjecting every now and then, but I was very aware of a silently pissed-off Maia at my side and her confused father on her other side.
I was also aware it was time I started taking back my own life, because there was no if anymore regarding whether I was going to end up getting hurt. Only when.
CHAPTER 11
“W
hy are you looking at me like that?” Maia said, throwing Logan and me a wary smile.
She’d come home from school to find us standing in my sitting room, waiting for her. It was a week since I’d gone shopping with Logan, and it was his day off again. We’d spent it putting the finishing touches on Maia’s room.
Logan’s face was perfectly blank.
I refrained from grimacing at him and smiled brightly at his daughter instead. “Logan has a surprise for you.”
I wouldn’t hold his sudden lack of enthusiasm against him, because I knew underneath that stoic reserve, he was a pile of nerves. He wanted Maia’s room to be perfect for her.
Maia’s eyebrows rose at the announcement. “Okay.”
“This way,” Logan piped up, marching toward her. He put his hands on her shoulders, gently turne
d her around, and put his hands over her eyes. He started guiding her out of my flat. She giggled, and I saw his shoulders relax a little.
I hurried past them to get my door and laughed at them as Logan attempted to guide her out. She tripped on the doorjamb, and Logan’s arms went around her to stop her from falling. She craned her neck to look back up at him, laughing, and he grinned down at her.
“Maybe I’ll just cover your eyes once we’re in our flat.”
She didn’t miss the emphasis he put on the word “our,” and she turned back to me with bright eyes.
“Come on, then.” I hurried ahead and opened Logan’s door.
Once we were all inside, Logan insisted on covering her eyes again, and it took them twice as long to get through the flat to Maia’s room. He guided her in and said, “I hope you like it, sweetheart,” and then removed his hands from her eyes.
Maia blinked a number of times, her eyes growing rounder and rounder as she gazed at her new bedroom.
Logan had painted the whole room a soft, soothing green. The white Shaker bed was centered to the room, and we’d found matching bedside cabinets, bureau, and wardrobe. In the corner of the room was a small, extremely cute green velvet reading chair I’d fallen in love with and promised Logan Maia would love too. I’d dressed her bed in a white cotton duvet set that was trimmed in forest green and champagne. Draped across the bottom of the bed was a forest green velvet throw, and I’d arranged five scatter cushions in all shapes and sizes, in greens and champagne, on top of her pillows.
Pretty gold lamps with silk champagne shades set off her bedside cabinets, and I’d bought her some perfume and makeup and arranged it on her bureau. In her many conversations about Leigh and Layla, I’d discovered who her favorite bands were. We’d found posters for a few of them, framed them, and put them on the walls. Above her bed was a piece of canvas abstract art that was painted in the colors we’d decorated her room in.
We waited with bated breath for her reaction.
The wonder on her face suddenly dissolved into tears.
Logan shot me a panicked look.
I smiled at him in reassurance and before I could say anything Maia slowly walked over to him, her mouth trembling, her chest heaving as she tried to control the tears, and she threw her arms around him. Right then she seemed so much a little girl, and tears pricked my eyes.
Logan relaxed into the hug, holding her securely in his strong arms. He kissed the top of her head and said softly, “I take it that means you like it?”
She nodded against his chest. “I love it. It’s beautiful.” Her mumbled praise rose up to reach our ears. There were a few more sniffles and choked emotions before she pulled away from her dad and swiped at her cheeks. “Thank you.”
My heart squeezed in my chest when I realized Logan’s eyes were bright with emotion. He cupped her face and whispered, “Welcome home, sweetheart.”
I couldn’t stop the tears and, frankly, I wasn’t ashamed of them. I was so moved to be a part of this moment.
Maia smiled shakily at me. “I better go pack.”
“Yeah.”
She rushed toward me and hugged me tight before hurrying out of the flat.
And just like that I found myself wrapped in Logan’s arms. I made a startled noise before relaxing into him. Sliding my own arms around him, I tried not to think about how warm and strong he felt against me, the muscles in his back hard beneath my fingertips. He smelled bloody wonderful too.
Damn it.
The hug didn’t last nearly long enough. He pulled back but not to step away. Instead he cupped my face in his hands like he had done Maia, and his thumbs swiped at the tear tracks on my cheeks. I felt a little lost looking up into his beautiful eyes. “There’s no way for me to thank you properly,” he said, his voice gruff.
“You don’t have to thank me,” I whispered, struggling to find the strength to speak up over the reaction my body was having to his nearness.
I was tingling.
All over.
In places Logan really shouldn’t be making me tingle.
Those tingles turned to full-on shivers as he lowered his hands, his thumbs whispering a trail down my neck and along my collarbone. He let go, only to settle his hands on my waist.
My lips parted in surprise, drawing his gaze.
I couldn’t breathe.
A vibrating noise shattered the intensity of the moment, and I frowned in confusion.
Logan stepped back, no longer meeting my eyes. “My phone,” he muttered, digging into his jeans pocket for it.
More than a little discombobulated by what had or had not just happened, I started backing out of the room. “I’ll just, uh… go see how Maia is getting on.”
Shaking my head, I hurried out of the flat.
What the hell had that been?
He wasn’t all flirty, so it couldn’t have been sexual. In fact, I knew for certain it wasn’t sexual, because he wasn’t attracted to me. I shook my head again and charged into my flat, suddenly annoyed.
I wish the man wouldn’t be so bloody affectionate with me!
That was it. I’d been right a week ago at the restaurant when he’d flirted with the waitress. Sure, as soon as Maia went into a huff with him over it, he stopped it, but it still reminded me of a very important fact.
I was not Logan MacLeod’s type. I never would be.
And, frankly, in any other dimension he wouldn’t be my type. I’d been thrown at him in circumstances beyond my control.
Well, no more!
I needed to create distance from him without creating distance with Maia. I could do it.
I had to do it.
Shoving the moment out of my head, I moved into the doorway of my guest room to see Maia packing her clothes into the suitcase I’d left out for her. “Nearly ready?”
She looked up and gave me a tremulous smile.
“Sweetie, are you all right?”
She shrugged, and then she was crying again. “I’m going to miss you.”
I walked into the room and drew her into my arms. “I am not going anywhere. I will be right next door, and you can come see me anytime you want.”
I let her cry for a little while longer, and finally she pulled away to start packing again. “I’m a wee bit nervous,” she admitted.
“That’s perfectly natural. But you and Logan are going to have an amazing time making up for lost years.” I gave her a teasing smile. “Still, try to take it easy on him.”
Maia giggled and nodded. She gave me one last hug, and I walked her to the door. Logan was waiting in his doorway, and he came over to take the suitcase from her.
It was only a few steps, but it felt like miles as I watched him lead her across the landing. She gave me a watery smile and disappeared.
Logan nodded at me, and I gave him a little wave before shutting my door.
Sliding down the door, I landed with a little bump on my bottom as I stared despondently down my hall.
My despondency did not last. I didn’t have time for it because any concerns I had about not seeing Maia (and yes, maybe Logan too) were put to rest when it became perfectly apparent than neither she nor her father had any intention of forgetting about me.
Two weeks later I was standing in my kitchen. The first week in May had passed us by, and I found myself doing something familiar.
Eating dinner with Maia and Logan.
Somehow we’d fallen into this pattern together. After school Maia usually spent time at either Leigh’s or Layla’s house for an hour before coming home to me. She’d do her homework and I would help if I could, while I got dinner started in time for Logan to finish work. If I was too busy with my own work to cook, I ordered takeout for us all.
“Layla said what?” I shook my head, thinking I’d heard wrong.
“Layla said that she thinks our history teacher, Mr. Tatum, is having an affair with the music teacher, Mrs. Rogers.”
I shared a worried look with Logan.
&nbs
p; We were sitting around my kitchen counter eating Chinese takeout. “And did Layla witness something that made her think this?”
“Yup. She said Mrs. Rogers fiddles with her wedding ring every time she’s talking to Mr. Tatum.”
“How bored must this girl be to notice that shit?” Logan looked as flummoxed as me.
“I think the more important point here is that Layla should not be spreading rumors based on a woman fiddling with her wedding ring.”
Maia shrugged. “I didn’t say it.”
“Well, maybe you should get Layla to stop saying it.”
Maia bugged out her eyes at me. “It’s Layla. Only the British Army and a Challenger 2 tank could get her to stop talking.”
Logan choked on the bite of food he had just taken.
I took a sip of water to hide my smile. When I felt composed, I faced her again. “Maia, spreading rumors is wrong.”
“I know. I won’t do it,” she promised.
“Pass the prawn crackers.” Logan gestured to me, and I slid them over the counter to him. “I found out who was stealing at work,” he said as he piled rice and chicken onto a cracker.
“Oh?” Money had been going missing from the bar take on and off for the last week or so. It was driving Logan crazy, and I knew it was partly to do with his inner sense of responsibility and the fact that he had a criminal record and money was missing from his place of employment. Braden had gone out on a limb for him by giving him the managerial position at Fire, and I knew Logan didn’t want to let him down.
“One of the nightclub promoters started…” He stopped and shot a look at Maia. He did this a lot when he was about to say something before remembering his fifteen-year-old daughter was in the room. “Started a relationship with one of my bartenders. She found out somehow that I have a past record and thought it would be easy enough to steal the cash and that I would naturally be blamed for it.”
I felt my blood heat with fury and noticed Maia’s cheeks turn red with her own. “How did you find out it was her?”
“Luckily, the bartender she was slee—in a relationship with noticed a change in her funding situation. He got suspicious and caught her last night when he was shutting down the bar. She thought his back was turned.”