Chapter 41
Serena
Pouring coffee from the fancy machine situated on Logan’s kitchen counter, dressed only in one of his gray t-shirts, I smile when he presses his body to mine from behind. Dressed only in sweats, he is so fucking sexy, and he is mine.
He kisses the top of my head before he reaches over me to grab a mug from the cupboard.
Giggling, I duck down slightly, but it’s not necessary.
He towers over me, and I love it. It adds a layer to the protection he provides, which thrills me into placing my mug down and turning into him, running my hands up his ribs.
“Still sore?”
He shakes his head.
I had no idea that Quen broke his ribs when he beat him up, but after making love more times than I can count last night, he came clean, pleading reprieve to his aching body.
“I’m so sorry.”
“You have nothing to apologize for,” he growls.
“This happened because of me.”
“No, it happened because your uncle is a megalomaniac who enjoys inflicting pain on people.”
Biting my lip, I know I have to tell him about my thoughts on this so-called uncle of mine. I’m about to spill the beans when the front door unlocks, and the handle turns, but it doesn’t open.
“Logan?”
With a small smile, he pulls away from me to answer the door to the woman on the other side.
Sliding the bolt across, he steps back and returns to me as it opens to let in a very attractive brunette in her mid-fifties or so.
“What’s with locking me out? I said I was coming over to make you something to eat,” she scolds him in an Irish accent that makes my knees go kind of weak. She’s shit hot. I glance at Logan, feeling insecure all of a sudden.
“Who are you?” she asks when her eagle-eyed glare lands on me.
I nearly wither from the steel in her eyes.
“Uhm…”
“Rose, this is Serena.”
Rose. Of course. I relax, knowing this is his housekeeper. Too bad he neglected to mention she was coming over this morning. Here I am, looking like some just-fucked hussy, which she definitely thinks I am by the scathing glare adorning her features.
“That girl,” Logan mutters when he sees how awkward this has become.
Rose's face changes instantly, and she beams at me. “Oooh, that one. Well, nice to meet you, that girl. You’re pretty as a picture.” She squints and comes a bit closer. “Bit young, but maybe that will keep this one in his prime a bit longer, hmm. You cook?”
Shaking my head, I feel like a complete failure.
“Not to worry. You look like a quick learner. I’ll teach you all the things to keep him happy.”
Nodding, my eyes wide as Logan snickers.
“Well, not all the things.”
Rose glares at him. “Oh you, get yer mind out the gutter.”
Hiding my giggle behind my hand, I decide I like this woman. She knows how to keep Logan in line, which I find hilarious.
A knock at the door draws all of our attention to it, but no one moves.
It suddenly occurs to me that I shouldn’t be here.
What if it’s Quentin? Or the police about last night?
Logan and I still haven’t had that conversation yet, and now it seems like a foolish thing to do, putting it off.
What does he want me to say if it is the cops?
I don’t know. We don’t have our stories straight.
Outright panic hits my chest, but when Rue calls out, “Serena, you in there?” I nearly faint with relief.
Logan, his face relaxing as well, after tensing up to the point I thought his teeth were going to crack under the pressure from his jaw, crosses over to it as Rose bustles about, getting what appears to be the fixings for a roast dinner organized.
My stomach growls to my utter embarrassment, but Rose does a bang-up job of ignoring it.
Grabbing my coffee mug, I move across to Logan, who is letting Rue in, then closing and bolting the door behind her.
“You two have got so much explaining to do!” she starts but then eyes up Rose and slams her lips shut.
“We know,” Logan says quietly. “Come upstairs. Serena needs to rest.”
Blinking at the statement, I want to point out that I feel fine. Great, even. But then the feeling of love and happiness washes over me with the knowledge that he is doing just what he promised. He’s taking care of me.
He takes my hand and leads me upstairs, with Rue following.
I feel a sense of weirdness descend when I realize we’re going to the only upstairs room.
Logan’s bedroom, with his rumpled sheets and the scent of sex permeating the air.
But in this open-plan apartment, I guess it’s the lesser of three evils when we need privacy.
The downstairs toilet or the outside terrace being the other two.
After it started snowing when we were outside last night, it hasn’t stopped, and the city is covered under a white blanket of a perfect winter wonderland.
Only the blood and darkness that lies underneath it is a stark reminder of everything that happened last night.
Rue trails into the bedroom behind us and lets out a loud snort. “Okay, guess you two are just fine and dandy then.”
“We are perfect,” I inform her, almost loftily and a bit smug.
She smiles; it’s genuine and happy but is tinged with a cautiousness that I know is about to threaten the happy bubble I’m floating in right now—the one of denial and selective remembering.
“What is it?” I ask, gripping Logan’s hand tighter, forgetting all about my coffee.
“I need to know exactly why the cleaner was called up last night. My parents are…concerned.” She folds her arms and speaks directly to Logan.
“Cleaner…” I say the word quietly, remembering something Logan said about a clean-up. Frowning when it strikes me that Rue is aware of things and doesn’t seem to be freaking out about it, sends me into a tailspin of suspicion, causing me to pull away from Logan and back into a corner.
“Serena,” he says carefully, turning to me and holding his hands up. “Remember I said we needed to have a conversation about what happened?”
Nodding slowly, I do remember that, but something has suddenly leaped up and constricted around my throat.
“Sit, baby girl, and I’ll tell you everything.”
Lowering myself to the floor, for lack of anywhere else to sit in this far corner of the room, I slide down the wall and pull my knees up, tugging the t-shirt down to cover my bits.
“What is this?” I ask, glaring between the two of them.
Logan huffs out a breath, and with an encouraging nod from Rue, which sends up a major red flag, he says, “This, Serena, is Solitaire.”