Chapter 25 #3
I should have guessed that the littles’ chat would not be the utilitarian black and white of the mommies and daddies’ chat.
The background looks like something out of Willy Wonka and each chat bubble is in a different color.
Virtual bubbles rise through the lines of text and pop in sprays of candy at the top of the screen.
Other than seeing there are more than eleven exclamation marks in Sammi’s message to the group, I don’t try to decipher the comments. My eyes cross from just that casual glance.
“Sound like a good way to spend the afternoon, baby? It’s only a few blocks away so we can walk over, get messy playing with clay, and head back to mine afterwards.”
Logan shakes his head. “Yes to a walk in the sunshine. Yes to playing with clay. No to going home. I need more time with you here, Maxie, where I know you’re safe.
The last couple of days, knowing they were after you .
. . they haven’t been good. Invite everyone here for a barbeque afterwards and stay another night, yeah?
That’s okay with you, babydoll, isn’t it? ”
Emily nods without hesitation.
“Let me order the barbeque fixings while we’re at Clay Makers and that’s a deal.”
Logan grumbles about guests not paying for things, but concedes more or less gracefully. When Emily drags Cynnie upstairs to get changed into “clay appropriate” clothes, I thumb over to my message string with Mac and pop him a text with the plans for the afternoon.
Master Chief: Sorry, Maxie. I’m headed to FL for the week. Checking out an apartment when I get back if you have time?
Absolutely, I respond.
“Mac’s out. He’s had to go to Florida.”
Logan grunts. “Amy problems.”
“Sounds like it. You’d think with their divorce finalized, those would be over.”
Logan props a hip against the dining table, crosses his arms over his chest, and shakes his head. “You know what Mac’s like. He was in it for life. Sometimes I think it won’t really be over for him until he finds someone else. And even then, I worry Amy’ll still have her fucking claws sunk in him.”
I hate that idea. Almost as much as I hate Amy herself. She’s poised, polished, perfect on the outside. Inside, she’s pure poison. Mac deserves so much better.
Then Logan tips his head back with a chuckle. “But Emmy has plans to fix him up with Brenna, so maybe that’ll pry him loose.”
“Wi-with DirtyGurl?”
My whole body tightens as I reject that idea. Then I shake myself. Mac’s the best of the best. Brenna’s miserable, even if she’s hiding it well. I don’t know if they’re kinkcompatible, but if they are, they deserve a chance to make each other happy.
Even if that means I need to distance myself from Brenna.
Mac won’t pursue her if he thinks I was ever interested in her.
My head understands why Brenna and I can’t be more than friends.
And I’m more and more committed to my bumble with each passing day.
But I’m attracted to Bren, and if Mac spends five minutes with both of us in the same room, he’ll see it.
He's always known me better than I know myself.
Logan nods. “Setting you up with Cynnie has convinced her she has a future in matchmaking.”
I whistle. “That’s dangerous.”
“Don’t I know it. While the girls are upstairs, let’s talk about these blackhats for a tick. Will it start a war if we decide to be more proactive when it comes to these bastards?” Logan asks.
I rub the back of my neck as I consider it. “Lo, there’s a reason I didn’t come in with you. I don’t want you and Man tangled with these fuckers. You have too much to lose.”
Logan tips his head at the ceiling. Emily’s little room is what’s directly above us, but I know what he means.
“I have a lot to lose now, too,” I agree. “Thanks for getting the panic button made for Cynnie while I was gone.”
She wasn’t wearing it last night—because she was at Logan’s and felt safe, she told me—but she put the bright yellow, plastic-looking bracelet on when we got dressed this morning. It blended perfectly with the other bracelets she usually wears.
Logan nods. “Least I could do, Maxie. Would you talk to her about getting chipped, too? I can’t tell you how much comfort it gave me to have immediate information from Squid about where you were when the alarm bells went off.”
“No problem. I’ll mention it tonight.”
“What about her family? D’you think they’d go after any of them?”
“I honestly don’t know what they’ll do on American soil. But they’re not good guys. I’ll talk to her about it. I haven’t even met them yet, Lo.”
He chuckles. “That’ll go down well. ‘Hi, I’m your daughter’s new boyfriend and I need to put a tracker chip in each of you in case you get snatched off the street by bad guys as leverage over me.
’ You should know, De Leon messaged me every fucking day you were gone offering to take out whoever was after you. ”
“He offered me the same thing. I told him no.”
“Glad we’re on the same page. I can’t believe he cornered me into agreeing to bring him to playgroup.”
“He’s a manipulative dick,” I agree.
“Did your time together in England change your thinking about him at all? Do you think it’s safe letting him be around the littles?”
I waggle my hand horizontally. “He wants in so badly, I think he’ll be on his best behavior. But one of the reasons I invited everyone to Clay Makers is because I’m hoping to have the chance to talk to a couple of the other daddies about him before next playgroup.”
Logan claps me on the shoulder. “Let it never be said you’re a pretty face, Maxie.”
“Hey.” I throw off his hand. “It’s not just a pretty face, buddy. This mug always has been and always will be prettier than yours.”
He grins at me and it makes me aware I haven’t seen enough smiles from Logan since I got back.
Either my adventures in England really rattled him, or something else is going on.
His words last night about Emily having too many reasons to doubt him recently come back to me.
I hate that he feels that way. If today’s about making time to spend with my family, the person who needs me to make time for him the most might be standing right in front of me.
I keep that in mind as Cynnie and Emily come bouncing—literally—back into the room, wearing matching shortie overalls and stripey thigh-highs.
Cynnie’s are pale blue denim, while Emily’s are, predictably, pink.
The overalls are the most form-fitting thing I’ve seen Cynnie wear and I have to stuff my tongue back into my mouth after drooling over the way her sweet curves stretch the denim.
She’s left her hair down in a silky, black fall to her shoulders. I sink my hands into it as soon as she bounces over to me.
“You look good enough to eat,” I whisper into her ear, letting a little growl rumble under my words.
She shivers and presses against me. “You did that already this morning, Oppa.”
“Gonna do it again tonight, too,” I tell her between heated kisses. “Can’t get enough of my bumble’s honey.”
She giggles, and wiggles, and fills my chest with Daddyness.