Indestructible

  He thought that over for a few minutes as he finished the taco. “It’s going to take more than a coat of paint to turn it into an office.”

  “I know that,” I said, slightly offended.

  He smiled. “Do you trust me?”

  “Why?”

  “Do you?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  His smile broadened. “Good. Then give me a few more days to get the attic done right.”

  “How long? And to do what?” I propped my elbows on the table, my curious eyes on him.

  “It needs insulation and new wiring, to start.”

  I shook my head, not liking where this was going. “No. I just wanted some paint, and was planning on throwing down a giant rug. I can’t afford a construction crew, Logan.”

  “I know,” he said too easily.

  He is not paying for this.

  “Logan,” I sighed. “I don’t want you to spend money on my house. You’ve done enough for me.”

  He pivoted to face me. “You said you trusted me. What if I promise not to spend a dime on construction?”

  My eyes narrowed with skepticism. “And how will you do that?”

  “Believe it or not, I have a lot of friends—and many that owe me favors. I haven’t had a reason to call them in before now.”

  “Don’t waste them on me,” I mumbled. How had a weekend of him cleaning my attic and making love to me turned into construction talk?

  “Shut up and come here.” He tugged me onto his lap. “It’s not a waste. Nothing I do for you is, and if you ever say that again, you might just regret it.”

  “Are you threatening me?” A smile played on my lips.

  “Do you want to find out?” Something wicked flashed across his eyes.

  I kind of did. Was that wrong? He was gorgeous when he was in charge.

  “Another time. Right now, it’s you that’s supposed to be mine for the weekend.”

  “Right, and as such, I believe a massage is in order.”

  “I can go for that,” I said with a smile, “after we eat.”

  We finished our plates, and Logan began to load the dishwasher. I needed to bet him more often.

  “I wanted to ask before I forget,” Logan said, still focusing on his task. “My mother’s having a party next Saturday, and I’d love for you to come and meet my family.”

  “Your family? As in…”

  “As in my mother and my brother, Lawrence, as well as his wife and their son Charlie.”

  I took a large gulp of water to give myself time to think it over. Was I ready to meet his mother?

  “It would mean a lot to me. I want them to finally meet you—know you. They’ll love you as much as I do.”

  “All right,” I answered, not needing any more convincing.

  “You’ll come?” He turned around, a dirty plate in his hand and still looking gorgeous but also relieved. Had he honestly thought I’d say no?

  “Yeah. Of course I will.”

  “Great.” He turned back, finished putting the last plate in, then dried his hands. “We’ll drive up Saturday morning. Make sure to pack an extra set of clothes and some modest pajamas.”

  “Pajamas?” I all but gasped.

  “Yes, we’re staying overnight. Much like I am here tonight, where I can spend my time with you…” He drew me into his arms and kissed me once. “Hold you...” He kissed me again. “Get lost inside you.”

  “So I’ll be staying…”

  “At my mother’s townhouse. She’s old-fashioned, so you’ll have your own room. But she sleeps like a rock, so I’ll be sneaking over to visit.”

  “Okay.” That sounded enticing, but still...

  Logan clasped my chin and raised my head. “Look at me. It’s going to be fine. Now, let’s go see about that massage.”

  “I haven’t finished my water,” I teased, taking a small sip.

  “You need another countdown, sweetheart?”

  I raised my brows and brought the glass back to my lips. “Perhaps?”

  “You’re really asking for it.”

  “Am I?” I took another sip, heat racing to my groin.

  “Time’s up!”

  He was on me instantly, lifting me onto the table and tugging my dress over my head. He wasted no time unbuttoning his jeans and burying himself inside me.

  Lying in bed, wrapped in his arms, I couldn’t be happier.

  “Ready to show me that tattoo yet?” Logan asked, breaking the silence enveloping our post-sex bliss. I knew he’d gotten glimpses of it, but he’d had yet to ask for a closer look. The bandage had come off a couple days earlier, and I wasn’t sure how to explain the meaning behind it.

  “Are you mad?” I asked with nervous hesitation.

  “About what? My little brother hiding an illegal operation in my house, or him tattooing you in a place I’d prefer he never saw?” He traced Jax’s work with his fingertip, his eyes on me.

  “How about you just look at it and tell me if you like it?” No way was I getting into a fight today.

  I sat up, pulling him with me until he was leaning back against the headboard with me straddling his waist. It was a position we’d been in a lot lately.

  “It’s an arrow,” I said sheepishly.

  “I see that. Cute. Any reason for it, or just seemed like a good idea at the time, seeing as you had consumed half your weight in tequila?”

  I would’ve been offended by his tone if I wasn’t suddenly embarrassed. “It’s you,” I whispered, placing my hands on his shoulders and raising myself up to give him a closer look.

  “Gonna need a few more details here.”

  “You came into my life out of nowhere: sharp and deadly, but so unbelievable and beautiful, full of so many possibilities and fears. I felt like I’d been shot the first time I saw you standing out on your porch, but I loved it. And I love you.” I curled my arms around his neck and added in a hushed whisper, “And yes, I was also drunk.”

  Logan didn’t laugh along with me. He simply continued to trace the simple arrow with his finger, his eyes focused on the smooth line.

  “Why only three nocks?” he asked. “Jax to blame for that? He forget to add a fourth to even it out?”

  I shook my head, my cheeks warming. “No,” I murmured, staring down at the tattoo. “They represent you, Oliver, and me.”

  “Leaving room to grow?”

  I smiled to myself, unable to meet the penetrating stare I could feel on me.

  He continued, letting the question drop. “I know the feeling of being struck—pierced through the soul. You do it to me every single day. It’s why it’s so important for you to meet my family next week.” He kissed me softly.

  “So will your father be there?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Yes.” His voice was neutral. He rarely spoke of his father, which left me curious.

  “That’s nice. Your parents are still friendly, I take it?”

  I always wondered whether, if my father had divorced my mom and stuck around, they would’ve eventually become friends. Probably not as long as my babysitter was bearing his children. The thought made me sad.

  “Tell me about him,” I said, wanting to know as much about Logan as he’d offer up.

  With me cradled against his chest, he didn’t seem to mind. “He’s a hard ass—works a lot, and always provided for us.”

  “When did they split?” I traced lazy circles on his skin with my fingertips.

  “Right before Jax and Julia were born. He had an affair.”

  I lifted my head to meet his thoughtful gaze. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” His hands skimmed down my spine. “He loved her—my mother. Tried to make it work after she found out. So cliché…he was screwing his secretary.” He snorted. “My mother was pregnant, and too good to put up with it. She kicked him out, and Lawrence and I went to stay with some family for a little while until she gave birth.”

  He grew silent for a moment—r
eminiscing, I assumed—and I waited patiently, giving him the time he needed.

  “I remember hearing her cry at night, sitting in the nursery. It was only in there that she let herself be vulnerable. I always thought she was sad because the twins slept all day and were up all night. I tried to help her out. I was about eight or so, and it made me feel useful. My dad would come around on the weekends, but he wasn’t allowed to take the babies with us when Lawrence and I stayed with him.”

  He cleared his throat, his hand stopping its caress at the center of my back. “You don’t want to hear all this. I’m going to bore—”

  “No, keep talking,” I reprimanded, arching back to demand he keep touching me. It was the closest to him I’d ever felt. “I want to hear more.”

  His hand began descending down my back, and he continued.

  “Lawrence was the one who told me why she was really crying—explained she had a broken heart. It made me want to help even more. By the time the twins were one, the divorce was final. My mother’s a strong woman. You remind me of her at times—especially at the ridiculous speed-dating night Caleb still thinks was a hit. I knew then she would like you.”

  “I know I’m going to like her, too. She raised an amazing son.” I felt him press a kiss to my shoulder. “So, do they get along now—your parents?”

  Logan chuckled, the rumble in his chest catching me off guard. “That’s the other side of the story: my father’s. He’s always loved my mother, and he never forgave himself. He gave her everything: the house, the vehicles. Still paying her alimony, despite her trying to refuse it after all these years. On top of all that, he bought the house right next to her. Overpaid the owner that refused to sell.”

  My laughter joined his. “Now I know who you take after. Persistence runs in the family, it seems. So, does your mom date?”

  He snorted. “No.”

  “What, is your mother not allowed to have a life? A boyfriend? A lover?”

  He sat up, pulling me with him while keeping me nuzzled in his neck.

  “No, definitely no lovers for my mother. My father would never allow it.”

  I was the one snorting now, appalled. I knew how lonely my mother had been until she found George. No one deserved that.

  “They’re divorced. He hardly has a say.”

  “Believe me, I know my father. He’d never let someone date my mother.”

  “Has any guy ever tried?” I felt even deeper sympathy for the woman now. They’d divorced almost twenty years ago, for crying out loud.

  “Not that I know of, but then again, my mother’s private life has always been just that: private,” he said, either losing interest in the topic or not wanting to discuss whether his mother had had sex in the last couple decades.

  “Well, I think your father should want her to be happy.” I rolled over to face him.

  “He does—with him.”

  What? My face pinched. “They’ve been divorced for how long, and he still wants her? Has he dated since?”

  “Yes,” Logan sighed, his hands now slipping lower. I swatted them away, wanting to better understand his parents’ dynamic. My business or not, I needed to hear it.

  “Okay, let me get this straight: He cheated while she was pregnant, even though he was so in love with her, and now even though she’s divorced and free to date, he won’t allow her to. Am I hearing this correctly?”

  “Beauty and brains. God, I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” His headed dipped, mouth looking for some company when I flew up, pushing him back.

  “Wait, no, that’s just…wrong. Your dad’s an ass.”

  Logan burst out laughing, nodding his head. “You’re adorable when angry, you know that?” A spark of wicked desire lit his eyes. I held him back, my palms flat against his chest.

  “Sex after you admit your mother deserves to move on and find a man to make her happy.”

  He shook his head, which stunned me even more. “I can’t. I agree with him wanting to hold out hope for her. And even thinking about making love to you while we’re talking about my mother’s sex life is…not okay.”

  I ignored his last statement, as I was still stuck on the first. “Hope? Twenty years later? Time for him to give that up.” I was so agitated I nearly shouted.

  “You don’t see it from his side. Over all these years, he’s never stopped loving her. He hates himself for what he did, and the women he’s dated since were nothing but flings. My mother’s the only one for him, and he knows it. It’s one of the things I admire about him: He won’t give up.”

  My hands fell away. “I’ll admit that would be somewhat disturbingly romantic if not for him continuing these so-called ‘flings’. Maybe your mother’s confused by the messages he’s sending. I mean, if he loves her, then he shouldn’t be able to screw around with anyone else.”

  “Some men aren’t like most women, sweetheart. Sex can be meaningless—no attachment necessary.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, and I knew why.

  “That’s how it was for you?” The question barely made it out.

  “Yes, just a means to an end. I’ve told you before. And then I met you. I’ll never walk away from what we have, or jeopardize it again. Unlike my father, I know how lucky I am and how extraordinary my woman is.”

  My entire body rested against his. “I’m just as lucky. My mom hardly dated when I was growing up, but I used to dream that it was because she was waiting for my father,” I admitted for some unfathomable reason. It just felt natural.

  “You don’t ever talk about him,” Logan said, his attention focused on my words.

  “Or to him,” I added. “He’s no longer a father to me. He walked away and never looked back. He didn’t want us.”

  “Cassandra—”

  “It’s fine. I accepted it a long time ago. I only brought it up because, despite the ridiculousness between your parents, you’re lucky to have them both.”

  He didn’t say anything, and my thoughts turned to another child whose parents’ future I was uncertain of.

  “Does Caleb want to be a father?”

  “More than anything, now that it’s happening. And before, yeah, I think he did. He’s always been good with kids. Loves the hell out of Oliver.”

  “They’re so good together. I hope she didn’t screw things up by running.”

  “No, he’s calmed down. And honestly, I think he enjoyed the chase deep down.” Logan chuckled. “Although the day he found out, I was a little worried. Never seen him so angry. Caleb isn’t close with his father, and he wouldn’t want that for his own kid.”

  “You think they’ll get married?”

  “Considering he sent me a photo of the ring he had designed and is on a private jet to my home in Aspen right now, I’d say the odds are good.”

  “What!?” I choked out. “I want to see it! I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on me!”

  He chuckled. “Caleb asked me to keep it to myself. Of all people, you should understand that.”

  “Touché.” I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Now let me see!”

  “Later. My phone’s in the kitchen, and there’s no way in hell I’m leaving this bed yet.”

  I sank down against him, reeling with excitement.

  “This is huge! I mean, I know they’re having a baby, but—”

  “But nothing. He loves her, and he’s going to prove it. They’ll make great parents.”

  “Wow, Hilary and Caleb married. She got her wish.”

  “Her wish?”

  “Yeah. Ever since we were kids, her wish was always the same on every shooting star: that one day Caleb would notice her and they’d fall in love, get married, and have beautiful babies together.” I couldn’t stop smiling.

  “And what about you? What did you wish for?”

  I shrugged, feeling my face heat slightly. “I don’t remember.”

  “Cassandra, we both know you’re a horrible liar.”

  “I’m serious, I don’t remember.” My face was in flames. br />
  “Is that your final answer?” He pulled away, his brow cocked.

  Oh crap. “Yes, it is.” There was no way I was telling him anything.

  Suddenly, I was flat on the mattress. Logan’s fingers pressed into my stomach, tickling me until I couldn’t breathe.

  “Stop! Logan, stop!”

  He stilled his fingers. “Do you remember what you wished for?”

  “Yes: a dog!”

  He sat there for a moment, searching my eyes. Then, without warning, he dug his fingers back into my sides.

  “You can’t lie to me, Cassandra.” He chuckled as I kicked, clawed, and laughed hysterically.

  Gasping for breath, I panted, “Logan! Stop—please!”

  “Tell me.”

  “Love!” I spit out.

  He stopped and stared down at me, waiting for more.

  I scooted back to rest against the headboard and took a breath, looking down at the ruffled sheet. “I wished for love from a man who would never leave me like my father left my mother.”

  Logan lifted my chin. “Good thing I moved next door.”

  His lips were on me and I didn’t fight back, basking in everything he had to give.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Family

  “Grandma!”

  Oliver ran into the townhouse the moment the door swung open.

  “There’s my little doll!”

  My view of her was blocked when she bent down to hug Oliver. All I caught were a pair of simple black heels and a head of dark, glossy, short hair.

  “Is Charlie here?” he asked impatiently.

  “In the back,” I heard her say, laughing softly as Oliver flew out of her arms and disappeared.

  She righted herself, straightening the black slim-fitted blazer she wore paired with simple-fit jeans. It suited her well: laidback elegance. Her radiant smile greeted us next.

  Logan’s mother was everything I’d expected. Kind and loving, she opened her arms for her son, who walked into them instantly. They embraced for a long moment before her focus landed on me.

  “You must be Cassandra. Come in. It’s freezing out here. ” She ushered us inside her enormously understated home. Everything was clean and simple, with a traditional yet slightly modern aesthetic. It wasn’t what I’d expected, given the classic architecture of the exterior.