Shatter (St. Martin Family Saga) (5 page)

“Apples. I didn’t know we could grow apples here.”

“Yep, but some varieties don’t do well with pies—too mealy, too sweet, or too tart. I like to mix Braeburn and golden delicious. Braeburn cooks up and tastes like a pear, and the goldens cook up crisp and buttery.”

He groaned. “Please tell me you’re not teasing me and actually do intend to feed me pie.”

“Do you want it a la mode?”

“It’s the only way to fly.”

When he didn’t move, she pushed at his shoulder and he rolled off. She pulled on her robe and led him into the kitchen. He slid his shorts and shirt back on and took a seat at the table as she dished up the pie. “I only have apple blueberry left. Is that okay?”

“Sounds great.” Logan watched her busy herself plating pie and scooping out vanilla ice cream balls.

She brought two plates to the table.

Logan took a bite. Between chews he said, “Oh wow, Jessie. Best pie ever, hands down.” He demolished his slice in five bites.

Jessie took dainty bites. “It was Brandon’s favorite—apple blueberry.”

A mixture of sincerity and pain marred her perfect face. Shit. Had she talked to anyone after he died?

He cleared his throat. “Do you mind my asking how he died?”

Jessie focused her eyes on her plate. “I killed him.”

Logan’s body tensed immediately at Jessie’s words. The raw torment she was still dealing with five years later cut him to the quick.

“Jessie, that’s not true.” His voice was raspy.

She looked into his eyes. “I guess I didn’t brutally murder him, but he died by my hands.” She gasped, and tears tracked down her face.

Logan pulled her onto his lap, tucking her under his chin and rocking her. “Things happen that nobody can understand. Horrible things. You can search and search for the answers and never find them.” Logan knew that pain all too well. “In your case Brandon left you with a little part of him, and I know it doesn’t change the hurt, but you have to let go of that guilt. You’ve got Michael to raise.”

She sat quietly in his lap for several minutes. She pressed even tighter against him when she said, “We were driving back from our honeymoon. I was already a couple months pregnant with Michael. We didn’t have enough money to take our honeymoon trip after the wedding, so we were happy to have finally gotten away. We went to Orlando. Brandon loved thrill rides—roller coasters.”

Logan tried to catch her eyes, but Jessie closed them tight and grimaced. “I hit some discarded tire tread on the interstate. I was going too fast, almost eighty, and the car spun around and around. We didn’t hit anyone. The car scraped the cement barricade, but no cars were involved, and when we stopped near the shoulder, we were facing oncoming traffic. People stopped and came up to the car. I was shaking and someone pulled me out. Brandon’s door wouldn’t open since he was pinned in next to the guardrail. As he climbed over to the driver’s seat so he could get out, a loaded semi barreled down on us from the overpass. He laid on his horn, blasting away, and a man pulled me away from our car and told me to run.”

Jessie swallowed hard and whispered, “It was too late for Brandon. He died instantly.”

Large tears escaped Jessie’s eyes, and Logan rocked her while she cried and trembled in his arms.

“Michael is too young to understand what happened to his father but one day when he’s older, I plan on telling him.”

He felt her diaphragm quiver, forcing her to take a ragged breath.

“I’ll have to tell him I killed his father. Every day I live with the thought that he’ll never forgive me.”

Logan pulled her tight to his chest, and Jessie snuggled in under his neck.

“The first time we were together in my office, I felt guilty, like I was cheating on Brandon.” Her body relaxed against his. “But it was so wonderful. I don’t want you to feel bad. I don’t want to feel bad either.

Logan had sensed that Jessie might be sacrificing her needs to do what she thought was right by her child, maybe even assuage her own guilt a little, and he thought that was why she’d put up with Alan. He shifted her so she had to look up, and he didn’t let her look away from his eyes.

“If you’re not happy, Michael will sense that and he’ll be anxious and unhappy. I never knew Brandon, but I’ve got to think he would want you to live a long, full, and happy life. You’ve spent five years grieving and mourning his death, and now it’s time to celebrate his life, the life that lives on in Michael. Life is for the living. Don’t waste it, Jessie.”

Jessie choked off her sob and inhaled sharply.

Logan held her close, hoping she’d listen. Hoping she’d be smarter than he’d been.

5

O
n Saturday, Logan
arrived at Jessie’s just before ten a.m. Before he could ring the bell, Michael opened the door and yelled, “Logan!”

Michael ran out onto the attached porch and hugged Logan’s legs. Logan reached down and lifted Michael into his arms.

“Hey, little buddy.”

Jessie watched, bewildered, as Logan appeared to sniff Michael. Then his lips spread into a wide smile.

“You smell like apple cinnamon too, just like your mommy.” Logan pointed at something slimy on Michael’s shirt. “What’s all over you?”

“Mommy made a pie.”

“Mmm, pie monster gonna get you.” Logan lowered his head and playfully bit at Michael’s shirt. Michael squealed.

Jessie smiled from the doorway, appreciating
his silky lips and the prominent cut of his ever so edible jawline. God, she wished she could walk up to him and start nibbling on that. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. He presented her with a
large white smile that skewed slightly to the right. To her mind that gave him an even sexier smile than if it were proportioned perfectly. He was wearing his standard cargo shorts, flips, and T-shirt, this one promoting the White Stripes. He wore aviator sunglasses, and she wondered if he was wearing underwear. The thought of him being readily accessible had her lower body in a flutter of activity.

She’d been thinking a lot about what Logan had said earlier in the week. Life was for the living. His words had gotten through to her—she needed to move on for Michael and for her own sake. And for Brandon’s. He would never have wanted her unhappy. She covered her mouth when a laugh escaped. Brandon would actually have chewed her out for shutting herself off for so long. How could she have forgotten his intolerance for such things? The man had been all about living and enjoying and celebrating. He wouldn’t have wanted her to hide away, not even for him. Especially not for him. His death had been painful, yes, but it was past time to return to life.

Jessie turned her attention back to the man on her porch. She wondered if he’d experienced the pain he spoke so knowingly about. She’d wondered the same thing several times since he’d left her bed. Everyone knew loss. She wondered if she’d discover details about the loss that had given him insights into grief.

She watched as Michael poured out his affection on Logan and prayed that the man she was allowing to enter their lives wouldn’t break both their hearts.

Logan offered to drive them and Michael thought it was a huge thrill to ride in his big truck. At the park Logan climbed up the play structure with Michael. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of heights, so she opted to watch from the ground. The guys jabbed at each other with sticks they’d picked up from under the surrounding pines.

Michael raised his stick. “Arr, Cap’n says it’s time for ya to walk the plank, Matey.”

Logan lunged forward, his own stick raised. “Scallywag, you seems like a right able-bodied sailor. Tell ya what, ya lets me goes an’ I won’t have ta swab the deck wit ya.”

Michael thrust his sword at Logan. “To the plank wi’ this
scurrrvy
dog landlubber.”

Jessie giggled to herself. Apparently all boys picked up pirate talk somewhere along the way.

After they played for about an hour, she laid out the apple pie and water she brought as a snack and motioned them over. Logan jogged Michael to the table on his shoulders.

“Yum, apple pie. So, Michael, how many pie slices do you eat per day?”

“Bunches,” he said around a mouthful of pie. Jessie and Logan laughed.

Two girls from Michael’s school approached the table and asked if he could play with them.

Michael turned to Jessie. “Can I, Mommy?”

She kissed his head and said, “Don’t go anywhere I won’t be able to see you.” Michael raced to catch up with the girls, and Jessie waved at the women she guessed were the girls’ mothers.

Logan asked for a second piece of pie, and she served it up, smiling. “It was nice seeing him play with you. I’ve never watched him interact so positively with a man.”

Of course, she didn’t really let many men that close to Michael. A catch-22, to be sure, since she didn’t want Michael growing attached to a man who wouldn’t be in his life for long, but at the same time he needed men in his life to learn how to be a man himself. He bummed around with some of her staff at La Bella Luna, but they had their own families, and Jessie didn’t want to impose on their good natures. When they came to work, they didn’t want to be bothered by the owner’s son.

Logan smiled at her. “He’s a fun kid.”

Jessie covered the pie, fussing with the aluminum. “I’ve said this before but if you don’t plan on staying around, you might figure that out sooner rather than later before he gets too attached to you.” She looked up, her gaze intent on Logan. “If this was just about me…”Was she pushing too hard, too soon? But she had to lay it all out before either of them got in too deep. “Tell me you won’t hurt him.”

He cupped her face in his palms and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away the tears she was doing her best to ignore. She liked Logan, really wanted to see if they had a chance at a relationship, even if it was to be only a sexual one. But Michael had to come first. She couldn’t sacrifice his well-being for hers.

“Hey, you have a lot of steadfast devotion toward your son. Every child should be so lucky. I can’t promise you I will always be here, because no one can make a promise like that and no one can predict the future. You and I both know that all too well.” His lips tightened before he added, “What I can promise you is this: I’ll stay as mindful of Michael’s needs as I am of yours, treating you both with respect and care for as long as this, whatever this turns out to be, lasts. We’re just getting started here, Jessie. We may discover that this isn’t going to work. But that’s no reason not to explore. I don’t think I can promise more than that, not yet. And I don’t think you can expect me to.”

Well, he’d turned her demand back on her. But he was right. They couldn’t make forever promises, not yet. Her face heated as she imagined what he thought of her pushiness.

She shook it off and grabbed his hand tugging him toward the swings. She took a seat in one of the plastic seats and said, “Push me.” He pushed her slow at first but then he was pushing so hard she had to hold on with all her strength until she felt steely arms lace around her waist and pull her from the seat. They fell onto the grass laughing, face to face, on their sides. When they caught their breaths the laughing quieted and they exchanged a heated look. Jessie leaned in and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. Using her tongue she tasted him and became lost in the heat of his mouth, the taste of apple cinnamon lingered on his tongue. His hand fisted her hair and he matched her thrusts and explored her with equal vigor. They broke apart and had to catch their breaths again, this time for different reasons.

As she stared into his green eyes she wondered what he’d meant when he’d said they both knew all too well. She wanted to ask, but his face had skewed into a sad frown, and she didn’t want to pry. He’d lost somebody. A girlfriend?

Michael interrupted their intimate moment and invited Logan to stay for dinner. He related his big plans of watching a new DVD animated film that was one of his favorites.

“Sounds great, what are we having?” Logan asked.

They both looked to Jessie with raised brows.

“Well, all I have is mac and cheese and fish sticks, and even I won’t eat that. Do you want to order something?”

Logan gestured to Michael. “He invited me for dinner. I want a home-cooked meal. Shall we go to the supermarket?”

His warm smile melted the half-decade of ice around Jessie’s heart.

Once inside the grocery store Logan said, “I’m thinking we can rule out pasta and bar food.”

Jessie agreed wholeheartedly, giving him a thumbs-up.

“That leaves, chicken, seafood, salad, sandwiches.” Logan shrugged as he ticked off the list on his fingers. Jessie wrinkled her nose. “So no sandwiches.” Logan snapped his fingers. “Fajitas!”

“Yum! You’ve got my vote.”

They rushed through their shopping but drove leisurely home, Logan’s hand resting warmly on Jessie’s thigh as they took the scenic route. Michael was quiet in the back, humming softly, his eyes closing as he fought sleep.

They worked side by side in the kitchen while Michael took his nap. Logan cut up strips of meat and applied his special marinade, which he wouldn’t let Jessie see. Meanwhile, Jessie made guacamole and salsa.

Logan announced, “Meat is marinating. What’s next?”

“Margaritas?”

“Excellent choice, Miss Hunter.”

She pointed to a cabinet. “The blender’s in there. You’ll find the tequila behind it.”

He pulled out the necessary items. “Patron. Whoa, the good stuff.”

“And don’t be stingy with that.”

With a twinkle in his eye he said, “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

She smiled. “Maybe.”

Once the food was prepared, they set up a buffet-style line with fajitas and all the fixin’s and Logan started the pour on their third margaritas.

Logan regaled Jessie with a story from his childhood. The alcohol in his system made him highly animated, and she was enjoying his storytelling.

“So Camp bets Cash he can’t drink the entire pitcher of salsa the waitress left at the table. Now
nobody
thinks this is a good idea because the salsa there is fucking hot as hell, but what you have to understand about Cash and Camp is that they are identical twins and extremely competitive.”

He took another sip of his margarita, as if to cool his own mouth.

“I’m looking at the glass pitcher and I can see all the pepper seeds floating around in this shit and I’m telling Cash, ‘No, dude, it’s totally not gonna be worth it later when you’re carrying a bag of ice with you to the bathroom.’ Well, that only works to provoke Cash even more, and he takes the pitcher to his mouth and slams it like you would a beer or bottled water. He’s chugging that shit and no one is saying a word because everybody is too busy watching him drink down the hot sauce. He makes it to the end, lets out a burp, and that’s when the shit hits the fan—he loses his stomach all over the floor.”

Jessie laughed so hard, tears flowed from her eyes. She pressed a hand to her chest. “Oh my God, no!”

Logan nodded. “Oh yes. They told us to leave and never come back. Didn’t even give us a bill. No St. Martin has set foot in Julio’s since that fateful day.”

Michael padded barefoot into the dining room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Mommy?”

“Hey, baby.”

He crawled into Jessie’s lap in his half-asleep state and hugged her before snuggling in.

He turned to smile at Logan. “Are you gonna kiss my mommy?”

Jessie felt her cheeks heat. She had no idea where Michael came up with this stuff. Logan stood, walked to her and Michael, and kissed each of them on the cheek. He then went to the stove, where they’d placed Michael’s fish sticks and pasta, pulled a fork out of the corral, and brought the plate to the table.

“Here you go, buddy.” He patted Michael on the head. “What’s your poison?”

Michael giggled and wrinkled his nose. “Poison?”

“What’s your poison? It means what do you drink.”

Michael laughed. “That’s silly.”

Logan leaned across the table and tapped Michael’s nose. “It is, isn’t it?”

“I like chocolate milk.”

“Hmm, let me see what we have.” Logan returned with a cup. “One cup o’ chocolate milk.”

Jessie was astonished as she watched Logan carry out the domestic tasks. Something shifted inside her at that moment, something was created or birthed, twisting and turning and then straightening out into something like hope. Or maybe joy. Or maybe just relief. Relief that she could trust Logan and have a relationship without having to worry about what
might
happen in a future not yet written.

She yearned to have Logan as a permanent fixture in their lives. She knew her reaction was highly irrational and probably had to do with her mothering instincts, but she also knew it had a lot to do with her attraction to Logan. What did he think? Did he want the instant responsibility that came attached to a single mother? That was asking a lot of a man in a fledgling relationship. Most people who met Michael loved him since he was a precocious and funny child and rarely caused problems. But he
was
a child and another man’s son. Could Logan love him the way a boy needed to be loved? She shuddered to think how it would devastate Michael were Logan to pull close and then leave. It had already gotten a little out of hand and she didn’t really even know the guy. She knew a little about his family, and everyone spoke about him with affection or respect, but that didn’t mean he would always be there for Michael. He could be a great guy and still not be right for them.

Oh God, rather than talking her into a relationship, her thoughts were talking her out of one. Was she making a mistake? It certainly didn’t feel like a mistake. No! She wouldn’t let her thoughts ruin this for her. She like Logan, Michael liked Logan. She would pursue it and see where it led them. Together she and Michael and Logan would weave the pattern of their future.