Blow (26 page)

And my heart skipped a beat.

Logan disappeared into the next room and I set the baby down, all the while my pulse aflutter. Before I changed her, I took a few deep breaths and then sipped on my coffee to try to calm it down.

What was this thing between us?

I wasn’t about to overanalyze it, but I knew we needed to eventually talk about it. Something was causing him to war with his emotions, and he should know that he didn’t have to worry about me.

I wasn’t looking to attach myself to him.

I wasn’t looking to attach myself to anyone.

Once I’d changed Clementine, I decided to at least brush my teeth, but then I looked at myself and thought a comb would be a good idea too.

The mirror had a crack down the center and I wondered what had happened, but not for long as Clementine led the way into the living room. I had her bag, which contained her sippy cup, the fail-safe Cheerios, and her toys, so she was all set.

Logan was sitting on the couch with what I could only call “old school” Vans up on the table, reading something on his phone. A cart of overflowing food was next to him, along with one of the small cartons of milk he had ordered last night.

He peered up at me.

With his eyes on me, I poured the milk into the cup and made Clementine a plate. I didn’t have a high chair, so I set everything on the coffee table and let her pick at her food while she played. I knew it wasn’t ideal, but it worked and it made her happy.

Once she was settled, I poured myself a hot cup of coffee and added some cream, then took a piece of toast and went to sit on the chair.

Logan patted the seat next to him. “Sit here.”

I shrugged casually, surprised but not. Hot and cold seemed to be the beat in which he breathed. “Okay.”

After I sat, he pulled his feet from the table and leaned forward, turning his head to see me. “So here’s the thing, I’m not really good at anything when it comes to women except fucking.”

I practically spit my coffee out. “That was . . . honest.”

His eyes caught mine and trapped me. Hazel irises that looked more green than brown today had so much more to say than what he had just said.

There was something in them, something that made him the way he was.

I wasn’t one to judge.

The napkin was close and I wiped my mouth. “Logan, I’m attracted to you, and I think I can safely say you’re attracted to me.”

I heard the smile in his voice. “That’s an accurate assumption.”

My words came out very matter-of-factly. “We fucked. If we fuck again, I wouldn’t mind it and if we don’t, that’s life.”

Logan’s gaze darted toward Clementine. “Should we be saying
fuck
?” He’d lowered his voice to a whisper.

I looked at her happily busying herself transferring the pancake squares I’d put on her plate to the table and then whispered, “Probably not.”

He leaned close to me. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Was he dismissing what I’d just said?

“There’s more to it than that,” he continued.

I put my finger on his lips. “There always is. Thank you for comforting me last night. I’m sorry I lost it on you. There’s just so much going on right now, I’m having a hard time keeping my emotions in check.”

He opened his mouth and licked my finger. “You haven’t mentioned the shower.”

Heat crept up my cheeks from his words.

I was really getting tired of my schoolgirl reaction.

Logan glanced over at Clementine, who was now sitting on the floor with her toys, not paying any attention to us, and crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was short this time but it was rough, sensual, and took my breath away.

I gasped, as that strange feeling coursed its way through me.

“In case you needed reminding,” he added.

I took a few deep breaths and cursed the desire that was running through my veins. No, I certainly didn’t need reminding. I needed more. And now was so not the time to get all hot and bothered. The question was—would there be another? I looked at him. “Has anyone ever told you, Logan McPherson, you’re a contradiction of emotions?”

His expression fell. “More than once.”

Confused by not only my own emotions, but also his, I nodded. “Well, at least we’re on the same page,” I said, and then I stood up. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

His eyes darted to mine and the heat that I saw in them was almost volcanic. “Yeah, sure,” he managed to say through a voice full of gravel.

His mind was right where mine was—somewhere it couldn’t be right now.

With one hand on my back, I bent to scoop up Clementine.

“You can leave her here. She seems perfectly content playing in between bites of food.”

I looked at him. “You sure?”

“We’ll be fine.” He looked up at me. “And there’s some Advil in my bag on the bathroom vanity if you need one.”

I headed for the bedroom. “Okay. I’ll be quick.”

“Hey,” he called.

I glanced over my shoulder.

“It will happen again.”

For a moment, I was confused.

But then what he meant clicked at the same time he mouthed, “The fucking.”

Shivers ran up my spine as arousal flooded me even more. If the words were meant to be a promise, I found myself looking forward to it. This man was complex and yet I felt I understood him. I didn’t know what drove him, but I knew the multitude of emotions behind his reactions were complicated for a reason. Defense mechanisms of some sort was my guess. I think I got him because he was a lot like me.

As soon as I entered the bathroom, memories from last night, his hands on me, his cock inside me, the way he moved, were everywhere. Once the water was hot and steamy, I stepped in and palmed the bar of soap I knew he had rubbed over his skin. I did it until it lathered and then I smoothed it all over me.

It was odd.

I was certain that we would fuck again, too, but everything else in my life held a chilling uncertainty. The words I had spoken to him were true, though. I wanted to be with him again, but that was all there was to it. I was damaged goods. My father so much as told me that the first time he saw me in the hospital after the surgeries. He had said, “I told you not to do this, Gabrielle. No man will want you now.” I think he might have even had a tear in his eye. It was the only one I ever saw him shed, although I did hear him crying many nights after my mother’s death.

In his own way, he truly believed what he had told me to be true. At the time, I hadn’t believed him, but years later his words rang true with Charlie.

The water cascaded over me and I turned my face into the spray. Once I rinsed all the soap away, I quickly toweled dry and dressed in the running clothes I had thrown in my bag yesterday when I thought I’d be staying at Michael’s. My plan was to get up early and run in the park, but that was before I knew I’d have Clementine with me.

I brushed my hair and pulled it back in a ponytail, then decided the Advil was probably a good idea.

The black toiletry bag sat on the vanity and I opened it. The bottle of Advil was right beside a partially empty box of condoms. An odd wave of jealousy hit me from out of nowhere. That was one emotion I’d never had to deal with.

Where was this coming from?

Logan’s words whispered in my head—“I’m not really good at anything when it comes to women except fucking”—and my fists clenched at my sides. The thought of him with someone else was something I couldn’t think about, whether it was before or after me.

Those kinds of feelings weren’t healthy. Not for me. Not for him. Not for us.

I swallowed the pill in one gulp and turned the bathroom light off.
Out of sight, out of mind.

Sunlight gleamed through the bedroom window in abundance. Maybe spring was making an appearance today. I grabbed my phone to check the weather and saw I had a text from Michael telling me he’d be back late afternoon and that he would be stuck in mediation all day. I texted back that Clementine was fine and we’d see him later, and then pulled up the weather app. With the prediction of a sunny, 60-degree-high day, I decided it was a perfect day for a walk in the park.

The living room was quiet and as soon as I walked in, I knew why.

Logan was hovering near Clementine with his shirt pulled up to his nose, exposing those washboard abs I had run my fingers over last night.

I wet my lips at the sight.

It took me a moment to find her, but Clementine was hiding behind one of the chairs, making the noises that I knew only too well.

A soft giggle escaped my throat and caused him to glance up from his vigilance over her.

The look on his face was one of sheer horror. “I don’t understand it. How does something so small smell that vile?”

Laughter rolled through me as I waved him away from her. “She likes to poop in private.”

He raised his hands in defeat. “No problem by me.”

Leaving her alone to let her finish, I started to gather our things.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Packing up. It’s time for us to go.”

“Elle.”

My gaze shot to him at the sound of my name. I liked the way he said it.

“O’Shea back?”

“No, he texted me that he’d be home late afternoon.”

Logan crossed the room. “I don’t want you going back to his house until he returns.”

Goose bumps rose on my arms under my fleece. “Logan, this has to stop. All of this talk is making me paranoid.”

The most serious hazel eyes stared back at me. “It’s not paranoid if you are in trouble. Your sister, and now Michael, got into bed with the Mob and didn’t deliver. Patrick doesn’t tolerate fuck-ups for any reason. I don’t know the specifics, but there’s a reason O’Shea is still alive, and the only reason I can think of is that it has to do with a shitload of cash flow. And once Patrick secures that pipeline, who the fuck knows what he’s going to do.”

I looked automatically toward Clementine, suddenly fearing for her safety. “Patrick is the Mob boss?” I couldn’t believe I was even having this conversation. “The same Mob your grandfather once headed?” I accused.

His eyes closed as if that fact haunted him, and he gave a slight nod. “Yeah, but things are different now. Patrick Flannigan runs things with his only son, Tommy. They’re both sick bastards and you need to stay clear at any cost.”

This picture Logan painted sounded so dismal. From what Michael had told me, it all sounded so simple. But then again Michael never mentioned the word
Mob
or
Mafia
, either.

Hot breath blew across my neck. “We need to figure out if someone was in O’Shea’s house. I’d have already gone there, but if Patrick is watching the house, he can’t know I’m involved.”

Fear bloomed to life within me. This was the two sides coming to a crossroads, and it was clear Logan was on one side and I was on the other. What wasn’t clear was why he was trying to step toward the divide.

He lifted my chin. “Elle.”

My name was spoken again with concern in his voice. Everything about him was incredibly confusing and as I looked into his eyes, I wished it weren’t. “What happens if he finds out?”

“He can’t.”

“And if he does? Will you have to choose sides? Should I be afraid of you?”

Logan inched closer. “What kind of question is that?” he snapped.

“One I need to know the answer to before I spend another minute with you.” I regretted those words the second they left my mouth.

Everything about him went hard. “If you don’t already know the answer to that, then maybe you should just leave now.”

I wasn’t surprised by his response. He’d asked me to trust him and now I was questioning everything about him. It was just that the situation I was finding myself in was nothing any level of preparation could manage, and I couldn’t stand that. I’d endured helplessness with my mother because I was too young to do anything about it. But when I feared for myself, I taught myself how to fight back. This was different. Clementine could be in the car with Michael and he could get run off the road. He could be anywhere, at any time, with her, and out of nowhere danger could strike.

Clementine pulled on my pants.

I hadn’t even realized she’d moved beside me.

I looked down.

“Don,” Clementine cooed.

Which was her way of saying “done.”

I picked her up. “Okay, silly girl, let’s get you changed.”

My eyes softened of their own volition as I glanced back at Logan. “You have to understand the situation I am finding myself in isn’t only about me,” I glanced at my niece. “Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but you need to see things from my point of view.”

His demeanor made me want to reach out to him, but I didn’t. We had to trust each other; it wasn’t one-sided. He was going to have to realize that.

“I’m going to go change Clementine and then take her for a walk in the park. No one knows I’m here. I’ll be safe. If you want me to leave, I’ll put our things in my car. If not, then when I get back we can head over to the boutique and see if the opener is in my other bag.”

Logan grabbed for my hand and looked at me for a few moments. “Look, I’m sorry, but I had to warn you. It was time you understood just how serious this is.”

I didn’t want to sound as scared as I was, so I went for strong. “I think I’m well aware of just how serious this is, but there’s more to it.” I looked at Clementine. “I’m not only responsible for myself here.”

“I know that.” His voice dipped low.

My body was trembling as my strength diminished, but I clung to it and crossed the room quickly. I had to get out of that room. Away from Logan. Behind the closed door of the bedroom, I set Clementine down and found myself crumpling to the bed.

What had my sister done?

Where was she?

Did she know her child was in danger?

Anger flared up inside me, and it was what I needed to pull myself together.

I had to make sure Clementine would be safe.

I didn’t need a man messing with my head.

I’d avoided it too long to let it happen now.