Seven of Hearts

26. Leah

26

LEAH

“ I ’m not lifting anything more than three pounds, just like I promised,” I lied into the phone as I hefted a box full of ceramic dishes onto the kitchen counter in the cottage.

What Logan didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, I was trying to exercise more.

At the moment, Logan and I bounced between three houses. My apartment, Kristin’s house, and the new house. All of them were home in one way or another, so we had started calling our new house “the cottage.”

It felt right.

It was the perfect description of the homey, beach vibes that permeated the house. I loved all the colors, though I knew I would eventually repaint all the rooms something different. I loved the rattan shades and seashells on the windows. I loved the cabinet knobs that were shaped like ships and mermaids.

“What was that?” he asked on the other end of the line.

I peeled my phone out from between my shoulder and ear and put the call on speaker. I wielded the box cutter and sliced through the tape. The dishes rattled as I lifted them out, one-by-one, and slid them into the freshly cleaned cabinet.

As soon as we got the keys to the house the day before, Kristin was over with a hotel’s worth of cleaning supplies. She and Logan scrubbed the house from top to bottom, and yelled at me if I so much as looked at a bottle of surface cleaner or a dust rag.

“What was what?” I countered as I grabbed a stack of bowls and lifted them over my head.

“That sounds like dishes. You didn’t lift the box of dishes, did you? Those boxes were at least twenty pounds each.”

My silence was answer enough.

“Leah,” Logan groaned. “You promised me . . .”

“I’ll be fine,” I said as I emptied the last of the box, sliced through it and flattened it, then added it to the pile of discarded cardboard.

“But I won’t,” Logan said. “You’re going to give me an aneurysm. I’ve barely been gone for two hours and you’re already doing the thing I asked you not to do.”

“What are you gonna do? Punish me?” I teased in a seductive rasp.

Logan let out a different kind of groan this time. “I’m coming back over.”

I laughed. “No. Finish your work. You have things you need to get done too.”

Logan had delivered me and a pile of boxes to the cottage this morning, then drove around the bay to Will and Kristin’s house to work since we didn’t have Wi-Fi set up yet.

The third bedroom in the cottage was going to be his office. I really wanted to get it done before the baby came. But looking around the house, the pile of boxes, and the completely empty nursery...It was going to be a marathon.

I braced my hands on the kitchen counter and let out a breath. “I’m slowing down. I promise. It’s just the excitement of being in the house for the first time and Gio and Ellie being out of school. I always have an energy burst when I get a day off. It’ll fade.”

“You have that big cup of water with you, right?” he asked.

I eyed the massive insulated tumbler that was bigger than my head. “Yep.”

“And the bag of snacks you brought?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I quipped. “Are you done practicing for when there’s a child here?”

Logan sighed. “I’ll be back over at lunch time to help you test. Please take it easy,” he begged.

“I can test my sugar levels,” I said as I eyed my purse and the little pouch that sat on top that held my blood glucose meter and the test strips.

We both knew it was a lie. I had tried to do it by myself first thing this morning and couldn’t. Logan had to prick my finger and administer the insulin...again.

“I’ll still come over because I want to see you,” he said.

Logan’s discreet reassurance that he’d be there if I couldn’t do it myself meant the world to me. I hated feeling inadequate. I wanted him to look at me and know I could handle anything.

Anything except a stupid needle and a few drops of blood.

“I gotta jump on a call,” Logan said. “I just wanted to check on you.”

“Okay,” I said as I picked out a much, much lighter box of hand towels from the stack. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

“If you need anything, the Pelhams are next door. Steve might be on duty, but Erica should be home. Her car was there when I left. Just take the path through the trees.”

“I’ll be fine, but I will keep that in mind, you overprotective ogre.”

Logan chuckled. “See you soon, honeybee.”

I ended the call and couldn’t help that stupid smile on my face.

Things felt . . . good. They felt right .

Instead of tackling the dish towels and washcloths, I waddled into the nursery and looked around.

The bassinet lived under a sun-drenched window. It was the first thing we had brought into the house. I closed my eyes and imagined the crib. The changing table. The cardboard books and stacking blocks. The endless mountains of stuffed animals. Little trucks and cars scattered about.

Like he knew he was home, the baby took a tumble in my belly.

“You awake, little man?” I said as I smoothed my hand over the spot where he was bouncing about.

There was another kick. They were getting stronger and stronger each day. It was a strange sensation to feel him moving and growing inside of me. The first few times I had watched my belly warp and shift as he readjusted in there had freaked me out. Now, it was just like he was bored and saying hello.

“Daddy will be here in a bit,” I said, resting one hand on top of my bump and trailing the other along the edge of the bassinet. “You always jump around when you hear his voice. You’re like a little kangaroo.”

The thought made me laugh.

Maybe I should do a Winnie-the-Pooh theme for the nursery. It seemed fitting.

Honeybees and kangaroos. Woodland critters. Piles of storybooks. Our little cottage, safely tucked away in the woods.

I’d run it by Logan, but I didn’t think he’d have a problem with it.

We had picked this room to be the nursery because it was closest to Logan’s and my bedroom, and was painted a beautiful sky blue.

I trailed my hand along the walls, picturing it with a 70s style wood-paneled wall. Maybe a green shag rug, too.

The door opened and closed, footsteps echoing through the house.

That was strange. Maybe Logan had come over early? But he had just started his meeting and those didn’t sound like his footsteps.

Maybe it was Kristin or Kylie?

But Kylie said she’d be by tomorrow to help unpack because she was swamped with bridal consultations today.

Zoey was in school . . .

Maybe Erica had walked over with her kids?

I closed the nursery door behind me and padded down the hallway. “I’m coming,” I called out.

But the woman standing in the kitchen wasn’t anyone I would have ever guessed.

Logan had told me that his mother was being released from prison, but part of me didn’t quite believe it.

That was, until I was staring at Cheryl Boyd with my own two eyes.

The woman who had thrown princess-themed slumber parties for Kylie and me and brought orange slices and granola bars to little league soccer games looked decades older than the last time I had seen her.

“Leah Holloway.” My name echoed from her mouth like a question, an insult, and a threat all in one.

Both arms wrapped around my belly like I could protect the baby from her gaze.

“What are you doing here?” I stammered.

Cheryl let out the wry laugh of a pack-a-day smoker. Or maybe that was just what prison had done to her. “Good news travels fast,” she said. “Got back into town. Didn’t take long to find out that my son had moved back, knocked up the little girl who used to come around my house, and bought a new place.” She looked around the cottage. “Now I see why he cut me off.” Disdain dripped from every word.

Call it maternal instincts, but I knew she wasn’t here to offer her congratulations. My gut told me that she knew Logan wasn’t here and that I was all alone.

My skin buzzed electric as Cheryl turned and walked the perimeter of the living room like she was inspecting the house.

My phone was still on the kitchen counter. Did I grab it and call Logan? Would he pick up if he was still in his meeting? Did I call 911? What did I tell them? My baby daddy’s ex-con mother who was legally released from prison showed up at my house? Logan had dropped me off, so I didn’t have a car. Running to Erica Pelham’s house wouldn’t be bad if I wasn’t seven months pregnant. But I was. And even though prison had done a number on Logan’s mom, she still looked like a threat.

“Mrs. Boyd, I’m not sure why you came here, but I think it’s best if you go,” I said as neutrally as I could. I didn’t want to rile her up, but I also wasn’t going to give an open-ended invitation that maybe we could figure out a better time.

Cheryl lifted an eyebrow, but generally paid me no mind as she snooped through the mountain of boxes. “You and I aren’t all that different, Leah.”

I couldn’t help the scoff that slipped out of my mouth as I eased toward my phone. I couldn’t wait to hear the mental gymnastics she had done to come to that conclusion.

“You used my daughter to weasel your way in with my son. Quite a meal ticket you got yourself.”

Why did everyone think I didn’t have a good job? Geez, she was like my mother. Not that I was about to tell Cheryl that I worked for two families who were just as wealthy as Will Solomon.

“That’s not what happened,” I said defensively.

It was quite possibly the stupidest thing I could have said, because it piqued her interest.

“It’s not?” Cheryl let out a disturbingly dark laugh. “Because I had a lot of time to think and do the math,” she said as she looked pointedly at my belly. “Logan only started dodging my calls and withholding what he owed me when that happened.”

“He owes you nothing ,” I clipped. “Now get out of my house.”

“I think you mean my son’s house,” Cheryl said as she moved closer.

“No. She means her house,” a deep voice bellowed from the doorway. Logan stood in the entrance with his eyes locked on his mom.

“Logan!” Cheryl said in surprise, but not excitement. She looked like she had gotten caught. She took one step closer.

“No,” he bellowed. “You don’t go near her. Understand me?”

Cheryl’s sense of self-preservation must not have grown in prison, because she didn’t listen as she neared me while looking at him.

Before I could blink, Logan was standing between the two of us. “You touch her, you go near her, you even look at her, and I will not hesitate to make it the last time you look at anything. Have I made myself clear?”

Her gasp was legendary. Honest to goodness, I wish I could have seen her face, but standing behind Logan felt like the safest place in the world.

“But that’s my grandchild,” Cheryl argued. “And you—you’re the only one who still talks to me. Not even Zoey will?—”

“Zoey doesn’t know you,” Logan snapped. “Do you remember why? Or did your fifteen-something years in prison make you forget? She hadn’t even turned a year old when you got locked up. Or maybe you just remember hiding the cache of drugs you kept on hand to sell beneath her crib in diaper boxes.”

The malice in his voice was terrifying, but warranted.

Logan had never been anything but gentle with me. The dichotomy was striking, and it made me fall in love with him that much more.

He was soft and strong. Logan was a work-a-holic, but compartmentalized so he could give me his full attention when we were together. He was sensitive and had an incredible emotional intelligence, but didn’t let it control him.

But more than all of those things, he chose me.

I peered through the crook of his elbow.

Cheryl had legendary crocodile tears in her eyes. “But—but—you’re the only family I have left.”

“You’re not my family anymore. Leah is. And if memory serves, you’re still married. So go cry to your partner in crime and get out of our house. You’re not welcome here.”

Cheryl’s expression morphed from hurt to shock to anger. “You can’t cut me off!”

“I already did,” Logan said. “Now leave before I have you arrested for trespassing.”

To my surprise, Cheryl slipped out the door and disappeared down the driveway. The moment she was gone, Logan locked and deadbolted the door.

“I’m so sorry, Leah,” he said as he dropped to his knees in front of me and rested his forehead on my bump. “I swear I’ll never let that happen again. I promise. To you both.”

I raked my fingers through his hair, feeling the stress and fear radiating off of him. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he whispered as he rolled up the hem of my shirt and kissed my belly. “But it’ll be the one and only time.”

“How’d you know she was here?”

“Erica called from next door right after we hung up,” he said as he let out a tense breath. “She said someone had come around the house and didn’t recognize them.”

“You called me your family,” I said as I crooked my finger beneath his chin and tipped it up until he was looking at me.

Logan stood. “You are. We are. The three of us.”

“What about your meeting?”

He cracked a small smile. “Perks of a family-run business. Family always comes first.”

My random collection of thrifted and upcycled kitchen chairs had been brought over from my apartment. Logan grabbed my medical bag and led me over, sitting down first so that I could sit straddling his lap.

I waited patiently as he unzipped the bag and pulled out all of my testing supplies.

“I know this sucks for you,” he said as he inserted the test strip into the meter. “I know it scares you, and I wish like hell you didn’t have to walk this road. But is it weird that it’s my favorite part of the day?”

I laughed. “A little. Why is it your favorite?”

He guided my head to his shoulder and simply held me for a moment before he had to stab my finger. “Because I like having someone to love.”

I stiffened. “Did you just say?—”

“Yeah, I did, honeybee.” Logan kissed my temple. “So thank you for giving me two people to love. And thank you for being my friend.”

I sniffed. “We love you too.”