Season of Second Chances (5 page)

Chapter Eight

The shrill ringing of a phone dragged Claire out of sleep. She opened her eyes and realized she and Logan had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV illuminating the room in a soft, blue glow. The couch dipped next to her as he moved to get the phone. She glanced at the clock, seeing it was 2 a.m. Why would someone be calling so late? Something was wrong—

“Dan? Is it Sophie?” The urgency and panic barely restrained in Logan’s voice tugged at her heart and had her moving quickly, even in her sleep-hazed state, to stand by his side. He exhaled deeply, sagging against the counter as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes closing in obvious relief. “Okay. No, that’s fine. Yeah. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

After he hung up, she touched his arm. “What’s wrong? Is Sophie okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine. Brooke’s water broke. They’re dropping Sophie off on the way to the hospital. I’m going to go down and wait for them.”

“I’ll come with,” she said, heading over to pull on a pair of shoes. When Logan hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything, she looked up at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious, thinking maybe she’d overstepped her bounds. “Is...is that okay?”

“It’s perfect.” He came to her, dropping a soft as silk kiss on her lips before he grabbed his keys, shoved his feet in a worn pair of sneakers and held the door open for her.

It took Dan and Brooke longer to get there than she would’ve expected, considering they lived less than a mile away. With the storm, though, she was sure the roads had been hard to navigate. She hoped they could get Brooke to the hospital in time.

A small SUV pulled up and double parked directly in front of the building. She watched as Dan jogged around the car, pulling a still-sleeping Sophie from her booster seat before dashing inside.

“Hey. I don’t have any of her stuff. I didn’t think to grab—”

Logan cut him off with a wave of his hand, taking Sophie from him. She snuggled immediately into her father’s chest, the floppy-eared puppy she always slept with clutched in her hand. For some reason, seeing that made Claire’s heart ache. It was hard to believe some things could change so drastically when others stayed exactly the same. “Don’t worry about it, man.” He shooed Dan away. “Go, and call when you have a baby. I’ll bring Sophie by. Good luck!”

Dan called out his thanks even as he jogged away, his voice getting lost somewhere in the swirling snow outside. He hurried around the car, then sped off as fast as the road conditions would allow. When Claire turned to Logan, he was already looking at her. Seeing him like this knocked the breath out of her. Here he was, this big, intimidating force of a man holding his little girl who looked no bigger than a doll in his massive arms. And he was so gentle with her, turning his head to place a kiss on her hair, his eyes still connected to Claire’s.

When he held out his hand to her, she didn’t even think about it, she just went. The entire ride up the elevator, and then the walk down the hall to his apartment, he held her hand in his, caressing her skin with his thumb. He brought Sophie to her bedroom, and Claire watched on from the doorway as he tucked her in, dropping a kiss to her forehead before turning on her night light.

Claire stepped out into the hallway to give him room to exit Sophie’s bedroom, and he shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he stared at her. “Looks like you got kicked out of your room.”

Her mind seemed to be a million miles away, so it took her a moment to catch up. When she realized what he was saying, she waved her hand, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, that’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”

“Claire.” The look he gave her, combined with the tone he used, told her exactly what he thought of that idea. “We’re both adults. I think we can sleep in the same bed without having sex. I promise I’ll be a complete gentleman.” And, like with everything else, he didn’t leave room to argue, simply taking her hand and pulling her behind him. She was already in a pair of fitted cotton pants and a T-shirt, having changed before they’d started watching movies, so she slipped right into his bed. She tried not to stare as Logan peeled off his shirt, leaving him in his plaid pajama pants, and crawled in next to her.

Despite his promises of no inappropriateness, he still pulled her to him, tucking his knees behind hers, her back to his chest. With his hand spread wide across her stomach, he whispered in her ear, “Just want to hold you.”

And even though she knew it was probably a bad idea, she didn’t protest.

* * *

“Daddy.”

The weight on his chest was heavy, and an incessant voice that sounded an awful lot like his daughter buzzed in his ears.

“
Daaaaddy.
”

Two quick, sharp pokes to his chest and his eyes flew open, coming face to face with the toothless grin of his daughter. Groaning, his head fell to the pillow. “Sophie, how many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that? You scare the sh—” At the look she gave him, he quickly amended his choice of words. “You scare the crap out of me when you do that.”

“Sorry, Daddy.” But by the widening of her smile, he knew she was anything but. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“I’m going to be a big sister today!”

He chuckled lowly at her excitement. “Well, maybe today. Don’t get too upset if we don’t hear from your mom till late tonight or even tomorrow, okay?”

“I know. Mommy already told me all that.”

“All right. Are you excited?”

Her eyes brightened even further, her gums showing as she grinned, positively beaming at him. She nodded, her chin brushing against his chest. “
So
excited!”

His daughter’s exuberance should’ve lightened his spirit, should’ve made him happy. But all it did was reaffirm he wasn’t able to give her any of this. He’d wanted to...more than anything. When he and Claire had been engaged, they’d talked about having more kids, and though she wasn’t adept with them, she’d thought she’d wanted them. With him.

The memory punched him in the chest, his thoughts weighed down by what ifs and what could’ve beens.

By now, who knew? It could’ve been Claire’s belly round with his child, and Sophie excited to meet him or her. Instead, not only did he not have another child on the way, he didn’t even have a wife. But more than that, he didn’t even have
Claire.

As if Sophie was reading his mind, she asked in a whisper, “Is that Claire?” She looked over to where Claire slept peacefully, turned on her side, her hands pressed together and tucked under her chin.

“Yes,” he whispered, returning his attention to his daughter.

“Is she your girlfriend again?”

He reached up, smoothing the wild wisps of hair away from her face. “No, squirt. She’s not.”

A frown marred her face, and he hated that he’d put it there. “Why not?”

He blew out a breath. What the hell could he tell her? That it was all his fault? That he’d fucked up more times than just the once, but Claire had finally had enough? That, above all, he couldn’t even blame her for it? “It’s...complicated.”

“Well, that’s stupid.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“Well, it is. And besides, if she’s your girlfriend that means that other mean lady won’t come to dinner again.”

He rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t mean, Sophie. Regardless, she’s not coming back again, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“But I still want Claire to be here. Like she used to be, I mean. She used to play dress-up with me and let me fix her hair. I miss her.”

He glanced at Claire once more, ensuring she was still asleep. Even though he and Sophie had spoken in nothing but hushed voices, he didn’t want to take a chance she was awake. Satisfied she was still out, he turned back to Sophie. “I do, too, baby girl.” Before she could argue again—something she could happily spend hours doing—he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out of the bed. “How about we make pancakes?”

“Yes!” she whisper-yelled before tearing out of the room, not bothering to wait for him to follow.

He grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on, turning to look at Claire once more, still lying motionless on the bed, before he stepped into the hallway and softly closed the door behind him.

* * *

Claire lay frozen, still attempting to make her breathing even, though she had no need to anymore. She hadn’t been awake for their entire conversation, but she had been for enough of it. Enough to bring a whole slew of questions to her that she had no answers for.

Logan wanted her here, and she couldn’t deny the feelings for him that bubbled under the surface. Being back here was like ripping open a still-healing wound. With the storm she’d had all of his attention, so the bad part—and the ultimate demise—of their relationship was non-existent. It was hard to remember how distant he could be, or how heartbroken she’d been when left with dinner on the table and no fiancé there to eat with her.

To further complicate everything, she knew, without a doubt, there were opportunities here in Chicago with her company, and transferring back would be smooth and seamless. But did she want that? It was true San Diego had nothing left to offer her, and being in her grandmother’s house only pulled her into memories she needed to leave behind to properly grieve and heal completely. She’d been thinking about moving for a few months, had talked to Sadie about putting their childhood home on the market and Claire moving on to somewhere else, but the thought of coming back to Chicago had never entered her mind. If anything, she would’ve worked hard to avoid it.

But now...

She sighed, rolling on her back and scrubbing a hand over her face. A tinkle of laughter floated from the kitchen, and though it was clear Logan was trying to be quiet, pans still clanged as he and Sophie readied breakfast. Claire didn’t know what was going to happen between the two of them, and didn’t know what that would mean for her future. So instead of being lost in a sea of uncertainty, she decided not to focus on it. She was going to enjoy the day with Sophie. She hadn’t seen her in so long, and losing her had been nearly as difficult as losing Logan. Her heart had broken for more than just him when things hadn’t worked out between them.

And though she was looking forward to spending time with the little girl, she couldn’t help the foreboding sense that she was about to have her heart broken again.

Chapter Nine

“Come on, Claire!”

With amusement, Logan watched as his daughter tugged on Claire’s hand, trying with all her seven-year-old might to drag Claire behind her. His long strides kept pace with his exuberant daughter as she hurried toward the cluster of illuminated trees surrounding the ice rink in Millennium Park. She’d been begging him to go for a month, but with his schedule it hadn’t worked out. And as he watched his two favorite girls interact, he couldn’t say he regretted that now.

Their reunion had gone better than he could’ve even hoped for. He knew Sophie had been smitten with Claire at one point, had been upset when she’d gone to help her grandmother, but with time that had waned—out of sight, out of mind. By the time Logan and Claire had called off the engagement, Sophie had all but stopped asking about her. Every once in a while, though, completely out of the blue, she’d say something about Claire and it always took him by surprise, forcing him to take a moment before he could respond.

Even with the positive past they shared and her excitement from this morning at finding a sleeping Claire next to him, he couldn’t help but be apprehensive about them interacting again, especially given Sophie’s reaction to the last date he’d brought home.

Turned out he’d worried for nothing.

“Daddy! Claire said she’d go ice skating with us—come
on
!”

She reached back to grab his hand and was now tugging both him and Claire behind her as she marched her way with a single-minded focus to the ice rink. He looked over at Claire, smiling as she was willingly pulled through the few random stragglers around the rink.

As they stood in the short line to rent their skates, Sophie chatting a mile a minute about some movie she’d seen, Logan couldn’t help but sneak glances at Claire. He could admit he tuned his daughter out from time to time—really, what parent didn’t? When they talked for what seemed like twenty-two out of twenty-four hours a day, sometimes you needed the mental peace. But not Claire. She was engrossed in everything Sophie said, nodding and smiling and asking questions when appropriate.

She was so good with kids, even though she’d had—admittedly—zero experience with them before Sophie. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her in the first place. From the first moment Sophie and Claire had met, seeing how good Claire was with her...he was fucked, even then.

Once they had their skates on and laced up, they went onto the ice, and somehow he’d become the designated safety net. As soon as their skates touched ice, both Sophie and Claire clung to him, each gripping an arm. Wobbling back and forth, he barely managed to keep himself on his feet when he found his balance.

“Easy, ladies,” he said through laughter. He turned to Claire, not even attempting to hide the teasing in his voice. “Sophie’s only seven, you know. What’s your excuse?”

“Shut up.” She fought a smile, and slugged him quickly before clutching his biceps once again.

He could give her shit about it, but he didn’t actually mind. She could put her hands on him any day of the week, and if this was what it took to get her to do it, so be it.

“All right, squirt, you gotta loosen up the death grip you have on me.” He reached down and tugged on the strings hanging from Sophie’s hat.

“I don’t want to fall!”

“Come on, you’ll be okay. I’ll still hold your hand. I’ll stop you from falling, I promise.”

With the gentle coaxing, she slowly peeled her hands away from his thigh, then immediately gripped his hand in both of hers. Claire was still clinging to the crook of his elbow with both hands. Turning to her, he smiled at the wide-eyed fear on her face. “Don’t tell me you’ve never been skating before.”

She scoffed, and he had a feeling that if she didn’t fear ass-planting on the ice, he would’ve received another slug to the chest. “I was a beach baby, Logan. Sun and sand for this girl. You’re lucky I’m out here at all. I only did it for Sophie.”

“I know you did.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Thank you for that. You’re her favorite person right now.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got some crazy freaking voodoo or something.”

He grinned at her deflection. The flush that crept up her cheeks could’ve been from the cold or his words, but he welcomed the response either way. She looked fucking gorgeous out here, with the dusting of snow falling. It caught in her hair, some small flakes landing on her cheeks. He wanted to lean in and kiss them off, especially when one settled on her full bottom lip. The urge to swipe it away with his tongue was nearly overwhelming. The only thing that restrained him was his daughter’s voice and the tugging on his hand as she impatiently begged to
start already
.

“All right, all right. Jeez you’re bossy. Where’d you get that from anyway?” At Claire’s snort, he smiled and pushed off slowly, paying attention to Sophie to ensure he could keep his promise to her. Even with most of his focus directed to her, he was all too aware of the sexy-as-sin woman pressed up against his right side, stealing his heat and his safety.

As they skated along, his two most favorite women in the world at his side, he felt the heavy weight of regret settle deep in his chest. All of this had been in his reach at one time. This was how things should’ve—
could’ve
—been for them. He could’ve had the Saturday morning pancakes in bed and the weekend ice skating trips and the quiet but frantic sex under the Christmas tree. Instead, he’d let it all slip through his fingers, and he hated himself a little more every day for it.

* * *

After warming up with a mug of hot chocolate once they’d gotten home, Claire sat barefoot on the floor of Sophie’s bedroom, allowing the little girl to paint her toenails. Sophie’s beauty case was nearly better stocked than hers, and she wondered how Sophie managed to sucker her dad into buying all this shit for her. Though with a man like Logan for a father—who, admittedly, knew next to nothing about the girly things women liked—he probably bought her anything to overcompensate for his ignorance.

Their conversation consisted mostly of giggles interspersed with a surprisingly intense discussion on Sophie’s favorite
Junie B Jones
book. It wasn’t hard to act interested in what she was saying, because Claire actually
was.
She’d missed this time with Sophie terribly. When Claire and Logan had split, she’d already been gone for several months, and then her heart had been so broken over their ultimate demise, she hadn’t even really allowed herself to mourn the loss of Sophie in her life. But being with her now, utterly engulfed by her charm, Claire missed her with a shocking solidity.

While Logan had lost Claire,
she
had lost an entire family. She’d grown to love Sophie as if she were her own, but it wasn’t like the non-parental exes got visitation rights after a break-up. She’d sent birthday and Christmas cards, but that had been where she’d stopped. Why prolong the inevitable? She lived two-thousand miles from them, and that was hard for an adult to deal with, let alone a child.

Sophie’s giggle pulled her out of her thoughts, and Claire looked down at the mess Sophie had made all over her toes. “Sorry, I always get paint on the toes too. Can’t help it.”

With a laugh, Claire brushed the long, dark hair away from Sophie’s face. “That’s okay, sweetie. I’ll show you a trick to get it off when you’re all done.”

“Is it safe to come in here, or am I in danger of getting my nails painted too?”

Claire looked over her shoulder to find Logan standing in the doorway, leaning against the door-jam, his arms crossed against his chest. He looked ridiculous standing there in his nearly six and a half foot glory, surrounded by a shroud of pink, discussing having his nails painted. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh, Daddy! Please, please,
pleeeease
let me paint them?”

Claire was all but forgotten as the little girl got on her knees, hands clasped in front of her, eyes wide as she fluttered her eyelashes beseechingly up at him.

“Nice try, squirt, but no.”

She flopped on her bottom, arms crossed against her chest, her lip stuck out in a pout. “You
always
say no. You’re no fun, Daddy.”

“Yeah, come on,
Daddy
, you’re not afraid of a little pink nail polish, are you?” Claire laughed as he narrowed his eyes at her. “Hey, she could get out her blue eye shadow instead.” Turning to Sophie, she said, “I bet he’d look really pretty in that, don’t you think?”

Before Sophie could answer, Logan stepped over them on the floor, taking a seat on Sophie’s bed as he thrust out one of his hands. “Fine.
One
fingernail, and that’s it. And this sh—crap better come off. This isn’t, like, permanent nail polish, is it?”

Claire snorted, shaking her head as Sophie squealed and clapped. She jumped up and squeezed him around the neck. “Oh, thank you! I’ll be the best nail painter
ever
. I’ll try really hard to not get any on your finger, ’kay?”

Claire watched them, trying to restrain the smirk on her face and the glee in her eyes. She obviously didn’t do a very good job because Logan fixed her with a glare, though she knew there was no real heat behind it. It was comical, this hulking man crammed on a tiny bed in a room that looked like
Pepto-Bismol
exploded all over it. His large hand was outstretched, long, thick fingers extended as Sophie so very carefully painted the nail on his pointer finger.

For all intents and purposes, he should’ve looked laughable with that one pink tipped finger that sparkled with glitter. Instead, she found herself more attracted to him than ever. The old Logan would’ve never let Sophie do this. And now, seeing him like this, with his guard down, sneaking glances to smile down at his daughter in between shooting playful glares at Claire, she realized how utterly fucked she was for having come back here with him.

She didn’t think it was possible, had thought she’d managed to get over him in the time they’d been apart, but the pang in her heart proved her wrong.

She was falling for him all over again.