Chapter Twelve
T hey worked well together, not that it surprised Logan. They had both trained under Art so they had common principles and knew how to stay out of each other’s way. Before quitting for the night, they got the wall removed and the area cleaned up.
He went home physically tired, but didn’t sleep well, thinking too much about Sophie.
Was this part of his father’s legacy, too? Wilf had come from an abusive, neglectful home. Logan didn’t know a lot about it, but his mother had told him that much in the past. Wilf had never been overtly cruel to Glenda or anyone else, but he’d been deliberately obtuse to how much he was hurting others. That’s why he had led with monetary generosity. He had wanted to be loved, but he didn’t know how to earn it or reciprocate it.
He hadn’t loved himself.
Neither did Logan. It went deeper than his self-contempt for treating Sophie so callously. He had told her he hadn’t believed she could love him and that was true. Who would? His mother had, but she had loved a man like Wilf so that only told Logan how low her standards were.
Logan had done his best to play the field once he left for university, feeling empty doing it. He’d met smart, pretty, funny girls who should have held more attraction for him, but he hadn’t understood them, and they hadn’t understood him. He kept waiting for something to feel right and nothing ever had.
Then, when his mother had had enough of his father’s infidelity, he came back here to help her leave him. He had wanted to hurt his father by helping, not that there’d been much evidence he’d succeeded.
Logan had been hurting, though. He’d still been resentful of his upbringing and there had been Sophie, soothing the beast inside him. She did understand him and made him laugh at himself as much as every other aspect of this miserable journey called life. She’d been thoughtful and ambitious in her modest way, and he had felt connected to her in a way that was different from anyone else.
That connection had scared the hell out of him. That was the truth. He could look back and admit that it wasn’t just that he hadn’t wanted to bring traces of his childhood into the life he was building away from it. It was the heavier sense that she could pull him back into something he was determined to leave, something that would anchor him to this place forever.
So he had cut things short with her and left, treating her heartlessly in some bizarre effort to prove what an unlovable shit he was.
Just like his father.
He had never felt good about it. Never looked at another woman without comparing something about her to Sophie. He had never let himself get truly close to anyone since. His few long-term partners had always pointed that out when they ended things. He was inaccessible and incapable of real commitment.
He was. He had kept his focus on work, thinking it would bring him the fulfillment that otherwise evaded him, but even that success had failed to bring him any real satisfaction or any sense of true pride in himself.
Outside, the dawn light was increasing. Ravens started making their racket, coaxing their fledglings to fly. He gave up on sleep and rose to see one young raven on the lawn, letting out helpless, prehistoric screeches that roughly translated to I’m lost. Where do I go?
“I hear ya, bird.”
He walked up to a silent kitchen. Usually Storm was in her chair, babbling and blowing raspberries. Someone would be making coffee. They’d all talk about what they were doing that day.
Sophie’s house was equally busy with Art putting on the news and Biyen spilling his cereal and Sophie bossing everyone while taking care of them at the same time.
He used to think he was lucky that he lived alone with no one to answer to. Today, he couldn’t stand his own company. He walked down to the pub where he found Cameron and joined him for breakfast before heading into the office.
Sophie was already there in her coveralls, sitting on the stool, logging hours.
“Callout?”
“Mmm. Gillnetter needed a fuel line and was trying to get on his way so I came in early.” She yawned.
“I brought you a coffee from the pub.”
“I went through to the break room.” She picked up the mug beside her, meeting his gaze over the rim. Hers seemed wary.
“I forgot we can do that now.” He kept a level tone, wondering when he was going to quit spilling cold water on whatever warmth he managed to kindle between them. Her sex life was none of his business.
Not everything is about you, Logan.
“I woke up to a long string of texts from Emma,” Sophie said with amusement, tone brightening. “I guess all the travel was too much for Storm. She hated the playpen. Thought she’d been sentenced to baby jail and was not having it.”
“She sleeps in one in Reid’s office all the time. Are they all sharing a suite or…?”
“Adjoining rooms. And the funny thing is—Well, it’s not funny unless it’s happening to someone else, but I can picture it so clearly. When babies learn to pull themselves up to stand, they just keep doing it. They don’t know how to get back down unless they fall down and that scares them so they turn into this wrecking ball of self-torture. You try to lay them down and they’re standing up and screaming before you get to the door.”
“I’m trying not to enjoy this, because Storm will do it to me soon enough, but this is what I’m saying about Reid. Remember how he was yesterday? ‘I’m not scared,’” he mocked.
“Emma said he had to walk her all over the hotel until she fell asleep. They finally got everyone down, then it was musical beds because Cooper wet the sheets. They switched up to a girls’ room and a boys’ room, which got them through to five this morning when Biyen woke Reid, asking if he could call me. That’s another reason I was in so early.”
“Does he want to come home?” he asked with concern. “Do you need to go?”
“No,” she scoffed. “As soon as he saw me on the screen, he started talking about everything they were going to do today. He just needed to know I was still here, same as always.” She shook her head and chuckled, turning back to the computer to finish tapping.
“Yeah.” What was wrong with him that he suffered a little fomo that he had missed all of that chaos. He didn’t want any part of it. Who would?
“I have to work on the propeller for that cabin cruiser today, but I’ll mud the holes from the shelves first,” she said absently.
Back to work. Personal time over, he noted with a raw sensation in his throat.
“Sounds good,” he said. “Thanks.”
*
By the time Sophie was finished with her marina duties, Logan had framed in the new wall, door, and the space for the window. He’d moved the electrical outlet and, as soon as she appeared, asked her to help him set the window in place.
She did, then went down to the locker room to remove her coveralls and put on the cutoff bib overalls she liked to wear for working at home when it was hot. They were loose and had lots of pockets.
“This is going to feel a lot more functional,” she said, when she came back into the office. “I thought it would feel claustrophobic, but I’ll actually have more space once the filing cabinet is out from behind my chair and in your office. Plus, I might actually see sunlight.” She pointed through the window to his door into the accounting hallway. The breakroom had a window that faced the cove. Sunlight shone through that window onto the floor there through the middle of the day. “It’s as if you went to school to learn how to do stuff like this.”
“They said going all the way to Italy for a master’s degree in yacht design wouldn’t pay off, but they’re eating their words now, aren’t they?”
“You’re finally realizing your potential, is what I’m hearing. What was that like, anyway?” She had always been curious about his time there. It was such a worldly accomplishment, not something her very ordinary ambitions had ever conceived of. “Did you learn Italian?”
“Sì. Then I moved to Florida and mixed it up with all the Spanish I heard there. I’m kind of lousy at both, to be honest. It was a good experience, though. It made me realize what a young country Canada is. The colonial Canada, obviously. We have trees that are five hundred years old. They have buildings that old. Can you—?”
She went around the window to shim from the other side.
“Thanks.” He set the level and tapped another shim into place. “It was where the best school happened to be and I’m glad I went, but I don’t have any sentimental attachment to Genoa.”
“I’m still jealous that you’ve lived such a big life. I took Biyen to California for the amusement parks last year. That’s as far from home as I’ve been. I’d like to go to Mexico, but I’d also like to redo the bathroom.” She mirrored his movement on her side of the window, shifting to the other side to shim there.
“If you’re going to update your place, I have ideas,” he said.
“You don’t think the charm of our house is its complete disregard for function?”
“Homely has two meanings and it demonstrates both of them very well.” He touched the level to the window frame, checking both horizontal and vertical angles. “Perfect.”
“Poor old house. I wouldn’t put Gramps through a full reno, though.” She came back to her desk. “He has a dinner invite tonight, by the way. I’m grabbing pizza from the pub. What do you want on your half?” She picked up the phone.
While they waited for the pizza, they carried up the new drywall, then ate in the break room, enjoying the breeze that came up from the water and through the open window.
They didn’t talk much and got right back to work after. Logan seemed to have taken to heart her ‘are you paying me to talk or work’ remark from last night.
That bothered her. She liked their banter. Back in the day, all the girls had thrown themselves at him, but none had made him laugh as often as she had. That had been her edge—the thing that had made her feel special. The thing that had made her feel seen by him.
Yesterday, that back and forth had started trampling on some very raw nerves, especially when he’d been so shocked by her saying that sex had wrecked her life. She had knocked him back a step out of defensiveness, but did he think she had been referring to him?
Had she?
That brief week with him had been such a complicated time. She rarely tried to untangle it. It was easier to lump it all in as one long bad memory when, in fact, there had been a lot of good ones. His leaving without her had destroyed her, but the sex had been very good. Awkward and silly the first time, but nice. They’d taken a picnic blanket to a spot under a tree. The sounds of nature had been all around them while he showed her how a condom went on. He’d been so slow and thorough with the lube, she’d had a little orgasm and been embarrassed about it.
You’re supposed to come. I was hoping you would. He’d kissed her again while he continued to caress her in that tender, inciting way. When he’d rolled atop her and pressed inside her, it had hardly hurt at all. He hadn’t lasted long enough to make her come again, but the way he’d been shaking as he rasped, Oh fuck, Soph. I can’t wait. Oh fuck. She had liked that a lot, being more than he could handle.
Sex had got better and better in the ensuing days as they got to know each other’s bodies, learning how to draw it out, trying different positions and other salacious things. He had loved going down on her, too. There had been one time—
No. She had to stop thinking about it! She was getting turned on. He would notice. Her cheeks were probably pink and she was damp between her thighs. That would definitely put guilty lust in her face.
“Do you need both hammers?” he asked.
“Nope.” She was on the floor, pulling the baseboards from the supply room side of the new office. She handed him the hammer she was using and crawled to grab the other one, then rolled onto her hip as she turned back to where she’d been.
A sharp jab went straight into her ass cheek.
“Fuck!”
“What?” He turned.
“I’ve been putting these finishing nails into my back pocket.” She got her legs under her and stood.
“Shit. I’ve done that. Are you bleeding?”
“I don’t think so.” She rubbed the spot, dislodging the point that had still been stuck in her butt cheek. “Fuck that hurts.”
“Tetanus shot up to date?”
“Last year. I think it’s bleeding.” She twisted, trying to see if it was staining through the denim. “That’s good, right? Flushes the poison?”
“Let’s have a look.”
“I’m not going to show you my bum, Logan.”
“I’m going to spray it with antiseptic and put a bandage on it. If you think you can do that yourself, at least let me watch because you look like a puppy chasing his tail.”
She quit turning in circles.
“Umi is working from home today. Do you really want to call her in for this?” He went into the bathroom.
She heard him wash his hands before he came out with a first aid kit. It was grubby with age, but she and Randy only used it for exactly this kind of injury, something that could be cleaned and covered in a minute so they could get back to work. Anything more serious had to go through Umi who made note of it in the first aid book.
“Ugh, this is embarrassing.” She turned her back on Logan and unbuckled the clips from her bib, then caught the denim, only letting it fall far enough to reveal that she wore thongs these days.
“Distract yourself by thinking about how much Biyen will enjoy hearing about this. And Trys.”
“Don’t you dare .”
“Now you’re just egging me on. It’s a scratch. I’m going to clean it with some rubbing alcohol.” A damp pat of cotton against her cheek arrived with a sharp sting. “Now some ointment.” His fingertip gave two quick dabs. A bandage went over it. “All done. Unless you want me to kiss it better?”
“Oh you can definitely kiss my ass,” she muttered as she buckled her bib into place.
“I gave you that one because I felt sorry for you.” He smirked as he put the things away in the kit and closed it.
As he returned the kit to the bathroom and rewashed his hands, a terrible pang arrived behind her sternum. She still liked him, damn it. Beneath her childish crush and hero worship, there had always been a genuine affection for him and it was still here. He was funny and smart and competent and, when he wanted to be, kind.
He came out to walk wordlessly past her, all the way through to the breakroom. He came back with a ceramic coffee mug that had the resort logo on it. He offered it to her.
“Stay hydrated?” She looked inside, but the mug was empty.
“Put the nails in it. Unless you want to keep showing me your ass?” He angled his head with suspicion.
“I am never going to live this down, am I?”
“The jokes about you getting nailed are barely staying in my mouth.”
“I hate you so much right now.” She absolutely refused to laugh.
“That’s okay. I’m starting to like it.” He took up the hammer and got back to work.
*
They knocked off at nine o’clock, having readied the new room for painting and flooring first thing tomorrow.
“That was a lot of good work today,” Logan said, tired, but in a satisfied way, as they stepped outside to the darkening July sky. “We make a solid team.”
Sophie flicked him a glance as she locked the marina door, maybe not comfortable with any word that suggested they were together.
“Unless I get an early call-out, I’ll be in at nine. I want to have breakfast with Gramps and make sure he takes all his meds.”
“Sure.”
Maybe their OCD-like focus on finishing the task at hand had been an effort to keep from acknowledging that other thing. Her ass.
Why. Why had she had to hurt herself there ? He had done everything he could to behave as professionally as a doctor. It was just skin. Just a scratch. Everyone had a bum. That one happened to be hers.
That one also happened to be spectacular. Round and firm and the shape and the freckles would be imprinted on his eyeballs for the rest of his life. He had wanted to kiss it.
It was Friday night so the DJ was in the pub. Other than that thumping melody, the village was quiet. As they passed the wharf, Logan sent a habitual look across the marina, always keeping a mental inventory of the vessels moored there. He was never shy about dropping by to ask for a tour if he saw something new and interesting.
Sophie clicked on her phone’s flashlight as they left the lights around the village buildings and entered the darker shadows where his driveway peeled up from the lane that led to hers.
An empty house again. Great, Logan thought glumly.
“Oh shit. Bear.” Sophie grabbed his arm to halt him.
“Where?” Logan reflexively pulled her close into his side and followed the point of her finger to the boulder-sized silhouette at the side of the lane up ahead.
Two eyes glowed. It didn’t seem to have the hump of a grizzly, but it was big enough to be a cranky brown bear with cubs, even though he didn’t see those, either.
“We’re going this way,” he called out, shoving Sophie behind him as he sidled up his own driveway. “You keep doing your own thing over there.”
Sophie flashed her light at it a few times while they gained the higher ground of his driveway.
The bear turned away and crashed into the bushes, going the opposite direction. They turned and hurried up to the house, not talking because they were both listening to be sure the bear didn’t change its mind and come back this way.
“I’ll post that on the community page.” Sophie tapped her phone as soon as they were inside.
“Did someone leave garbage out?” Logan asked.
“No, there are berries there. He’s just being a bear.”
“I left the truck down at the shop. I can’t give you a lift home.”
“I’ll walk in a little while.”
“You will not.” God, this woman sometimes. “There are several beds here. Call Art and tell him you’re going to stay in one of them.”
“I love how you think you’re the boss of me.”
“I am literally the boss of you. Do you want a beer?”
“Thanks.” She brought her phone to her ear and said, “It’s me. I just saw a bear at the end of our driveway so I’m at Logan’s. I’ll walk home—No, Gramps. I’ll walk— No. It’s a bear, Gramps. Not a cougar. Okay, yes, you’re right. Okay. Logan said I could stay here. Okay? Okay. That’s what I’ll do, then. I love you. Good night. Oh my gawd.” She ended the call. “He’s on his way to bed but wanted to come get me with his Gator. That thing can’t outrun Biyen, let alone a bear.”
“So you had the same argument with him that I had just had with you? How did it feel?”
“Oh bite me.” She accepted the beer and followed him outside where they sank into a pair of loungers facing the water and starlit sky.
“Are you afraid someone will say something about your spending the night here? Is that why you don’t want to stay?”
“Afraid? No. I expect it. Which is not cool for Biyen, but I’ll explain.” She picked at the label on her bottle.
Right then, if he could have gone back and taken her away from this place when he’d had the chance, he would have. He hated that she couldn’t escape the history he’d inadvertently caused her.
“The worst part is, I have this passive-aggressive bitchiness in me that says, If they think I’m up here fucking you, I might as well be doing it. ” She didn’t look at him, only took a long gulp from her bottle, but he sensed her side-eye.
“Wow.”
“Oh, don’t pretend we haven’t both been thinking about it since you saw my ass earlier.”
His brain briefly flatlined. He absolutely had, but he wasn’t going to admit it.
“You drive me crazy, Logan. You make me absolutely fucking nuts. But what am I supposed to do? Let you use me again? Use you just because I haven’t had sex in four years?”
“Sophie—” Did she think he was doing any better over here? “Sure. Yes. Use me. Do it. Nothing would make me happier than for you to hate-fuck me as part of a bigger fuck-you to this place.”
She turned her head to stare at him.
“I’m serious. Not because I want sex.” He definitely wanted sex. “But because it would mean you were hitting me back. I could quit feeling like such an asshole about what I did to you.”
She looked out to the water.
“But don’t do it,” he said more quietly. “I am trying really hard not to fuck up this…” Civility? Ha. Camaraderie? “Ceasefire that we’ve found. I don’t want you to be angry with me anymore.”
“I’m not. That’s what makes me so nuts. I want to hate you and I can’t. No matter how hard I try.”
A huge weight lifted off him, one that allowed him to take a full breath for the first time since he’d arrived back here. Cold prickles of caution danced through his blood, though. Do not fuck this up.