17. Daphne
17
DAPHNE
“Hi, honey, I’m home!” I’ve always wanted to call that out and have someone there to answer.
Logan comes out from the bedroom we use as an office and wraps me in his arms.
“Hey, sunshine,” he says, lowering his head for the kiss my smiling lips offer. “How was your afternoon?”
This feels so nice. It’s only been a day since he surprised me at the lighthouse, but it feels so natural. He’s leaving in a week and then I’ll be alone again, coming home to an empty house. It’s going to hurt even more because now I know what I’ll be missing. But I won’t let those thoughts steal today’s joy.
Logan releases me from his embrace but takes my hand to lead me to the breakfast bar where two glasses of iced tea await. I hang my purse from the back of the stool he’s pulled out for me and take the glass closest to my spot.
I take a sip. It’s cold and deliciously sweet. “Yeah, it’s simply water, tea bags, and sugar, no secret ingredients or magic, but somehow you make the best iced tea.”
“You think it tastes good because you didn’t have to make it.”
He’s not wrong.
“Ready for dinner?”
Logan pulls a loaf of Italian bread from the counter. “Yeah, I picked up bread too. Do you want me to heat it?”
“Ooh, I love warm Italian bread. I normally nuke it, but if you can throw it in the oven, that would be divine. What did you want to do after dinner? If we aren’t going anywhere, I’m going to change.”
Logan is turning the oven on to preheat, so I walk over and wrap my arms around his waist from behind. I rest my cheek against his broad back because I can. I never thought I’d be able to touch him like this so freely. It’s addicting. Logan turns and wraps his arms around me, resting his hands low on my back.
“I’m good with a night at home,” he says in his deep, rumbly voice, causing shivers to run along my spine. He sounds very sexy tonight. “Change into something comfortable. Do you want salad and bread first and then pizza? I’ll put a couple slices in to heat when I take the bread out.”
“Ooh, aren’t you the fancy one?” I can’t help but tease him. “We’re going to have our leftovers in courses?”
His fingers attack my ribs, tickling.
I double over. “Ack, Logan! Stop!” I twist out of his arms and hustle away from him.
“Just for that, my dear, you will not get the dessert course.” Logan thinks he’s winning.
He’s not. I see the container from the Half-Cocked Bake Shop on the counter. No way is he going to deny me my ultimate chocolate cupcake. Two can play this game.
“Okay, neither of us will get dessert tonight.” I do the air quote fingers when I toss that statement over my shoulder while walking toward the bedroom. “I have Hallmark movies on the DVR I want to watch.”
Logan growls behind me.
I giggle, knowing I’m getting to him. Wiggling my hips, I saunter to my bedroom. I want to wash my face and redo my ponytail. He growls a second time, this one lower and somehow more sensual, telling me he appreciates the show. I change into a T-shirt I just bought representing my favorite baseball team and a pair of yoga pants. I want to be comfortable and normal. Things don’t have to change just because we’re a couple now.
Right. Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Daphne.
Instead of going directly back to the living room, I pop into the other bedroom and snag Logan’s pillows and put them in my room. In our room, I guess. I want to spend the night in his arms every night possible. I’m an idiot for getting cold feet last night and missing the opportunity. I blame my shock over finally taking our relationship to a romantic level. I’m not making that mistake again!
I watch Logan’s back muscles flex as he pulls the warm bread from the oven when I reenter the dining area. My mouth waters, and not just from the homey, yeasty scent wafting from the loaf. I could get used to having someone here when I come home and not having to deal with eating dinner alone every night.
He turns and laughs at my shirt featuring a baseball-playing mallard duck. “Cute shirt. It’s new, right? I’m heating two slices for me. How many do you want?”
I grab the breadboard and knife to slice the bread. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s new.” I stick my tongue out at him. “I buy my own T-shirts once in a while. I don’t have to steal them from you. I just like to.” Logan wraps his hand in my ponytail and guides my lips to his for a searing kiss.
“Daphne, if you’re going to stick your tongue out at me, you better plan on using it,” he says with a smirk.
I blink at him dazedly. He asked me a question, but I can’t remember what it was. I look around. Pizza. He asked about pizza.
“One slice of plain is good. Need to save room for my cupcake,” I reply, winking. My wink inspires the eye roll I was expecting. “Did you get one for yourself too? I don’t want you to miss out on dessert.”
He responds by placing the salad bowl and plates on the dining room table and turning to grab silverware from the drawer. I follow with the sliced bread and butter dish.
After dinner, we sit on the couch eating our cupcakes. Ultimate chocolate for me, and carrot cake for Logan. I swear he picks that because he knows I won’t poach it. It’s got raisins. Gross. I flip through my recordings on the DVR, knowing he’ll watch a Howlbark Channel movie with me. He’s done it dozens of times before, even though it’s not his favorite thing. They’re sappy romance movies with a shifter twist. I’ve watched all the human movies with the big city girl returning to her small town and reconnecting with her former love. These are mostly the same but the flannel-wearing hometown sweetheart may be a wolf shifter with a love of the outdoors and their conflict is she’s a cougar shifter whose idea of roughing it is drinking coffee brewed at home.
“What do you want to watch?” I look over to see him licking the cream cheese frosting off his top lip. I’ve never been envious of cream cheese before. Great, I can feel my cheeks heat, the curse of being fair-skinned—I can’t hide my blushes.
“Are you okay? You appear flushed.” Logan reaches over to feel my forehead. “Do you think you have a fever?” He tilts his head and narrows his gaze. “Your forehead is cool. Hmm…were you thinking naughty thoughts about me?” He runs his tongue slowly over his upper lip.
That jerk. He knows exactly why my face is flushed!
Just for that, we’re watching a marathon of Howlbark mystery movies. Who wouldn’t love watching actresses from favorite shows of the 90s solve murders while baking/matchmaking/walking dogs/spelunking? Okay, no spelunking yet, but it’s a matter of time. Who am I kidding? I’m not planning on actually watching the movie I’ve selected.
I have a boyfriend to cuddle with!