Chapter 24 – Nalia
Twenty-Four
NALIA
Seeing Logan’s Jeep in his driveway should not send me into another tailspin, but as I pull in next to him, behind Billie’s cute little car, the same one I saw him working on at his shop what feels like weeks ago, I think I might puke.
As I showered, shaved, lotioned, picked out a cute matching set of lace to wear under my jeans and tank, got dressed, put on a little bit of makeup, and did my hair, I was so distracted that I didn’t have time to think about the fact that I would be seeing Logan, or that we would be alone.
But as I shut off the engine of my Bronco and Logan steps outside dressed in his jeans and his t-shirt with Dozer at his side, the reality of this evening comes crashing down on me.
With no choice but to get out, I grab my purse from the passenger seat. It’s much bigger than the one I normally carry since there was no way I could fit my toothbrush, pajamas, face wash and night cream in the small cross body I always use.
“Hey, babe.” He meets me on the sidewalk, taking my bag and lifting it, the way you do when you’re testing the weight of something. “Moving in?”
Oh no. I freeze as a new wave of panic starts to fill my stomach. What if I spent the last hour making assumptions about what this evening will entail, and he just invited me over to hang out and is planning on me going home in a few hours?
“I brought stuff to stay the night,” I blurt, and he stares.
Oh god, why did I say that? “We didn’t talk about it.
I don’t know what I was thinking, so I’m just going to leave now and find a warlock or witch that is capable of sending me back in time so I can erase this moment from your memory. ” I turn around and start walking away.
“Hold up.” He laughs, grabbing my wrist and turning me around to face him.
“On the off-chance warlocks or witches exist, you should know it’s not necessary to ask for their help.
” He drags me closer with a smile that makes my toes curl.
“I didn’t want to make you anxious by suggesting that you should stay the night.
” His hand wraps around the side of my neck, and he lowers his face to mine.
“I figured I’d talk you into staying later and let you borrow a tee and give you the extra toothbrushes I picked up for you yesterday when I was at the store. ”
“Oh,” I whisper, latching onto his side, and his smile broadens.
“You’re really fucking cute when you’re nervous.” His thumb sweeps across my jaw, then his mouth lowers towards mine. “I’m glad you’re here.”
“Me too.” My fingers tangle in his tee, and my eyes start to slide closed as his breath brushes across my lips.
“Get a fucking room.”
Pulling back as my eyes spring open, we both look towards the street as a group of boys ride by the house in the middle of the road on their bikes.
And seeing who it is, I press my lips together.
This last week, the kids have both been surprisingly quiet when it comes to stories about Matthew, so I forgot that he existed.
But he’s apparently still around and as charming as ever.
I find this out when he locks his eyes on me and flips me off.
“I hate saying it, but I really don’t like that kid,” I tell Logan, and he makes a sound of agreement in the back of his throat while taking my hand.
When we get up to the porch, Dozer, who is sprawled out in the doorway, gets to his feet with his bottom wagging.
“Hey, buddy.” I walk into the house and get down on the floor with him to rub his belly while Logan closes the door. “Are you sad that none of the kids are here?”
“He’s probably relieved to not have to run around after Zuri for a single treat.”
I smile up at him. “You shouldn’t have told her that his vet said he needed to lose weight.”
“True,” he mutters, smiling down at us.
Getting to my feet, I wipe my hands down the front of my jeans and look up the stairs where I usually hear the kids, talking or laughing, sometimes arguing, depending on what is happening.
“It’s so quiet.”
“When was the last time you had a night without Zuri?” he asks, taking my wrist and walking me towards the kitchen.
“When I was back in Colorado.” He lets my wrist go and walks into the pantry, coming back out with a glass jar filled with popcorn kernels and a few different boxes of candy, the kind you get at the movie theater.
“So it’s been a while.” He walks to the fridge, taking out a chilled bottle of white wine.
“Yeah, it’s been a while.”
“Let me remind you about the joys of being childfree for an evening.” He walks to the door that leads down to the basement and flips on the light before heading down the steps.
“Make yourself comfortable.” Kicking off my sandals I take a seat on the couch while he picks up the remote and turns on the TV. “What kind of movies do you like?”
“Mysteries, comedies, action, and adventure.”
“No romance.”
“No.”
“Really?” He raises a brow. “I saw your book collection, babe.”
“Yeah, but romance is not really my thing unless I’m reading it.” I shrug, taking the remote he passes me. “You want me to find something?”
“I trust you.” He tells me as he takes the bottle of wine to the small kitchenette that is tucked in the corner of the room.
It takes me a few minutes to settle on the movie Thursday Murder Club, and as I’m pressing play, he comes back to the couch.
Passing me the glass of wine, he takes a seat next to me with his beer, sitting with his legs wide and resting his arm on the back of the couch behind me.
I take a sip of wine and slouch into his side, feeling the nervousness of being alone with him melt away.
Sure, there is that ever-present bit of sexual tension I always feel when we are together, but more than anything, I feel relaxed in his presence.
“She must have worked for the British government,” he mutters sometime after my glass of wine is long gone.
His mostly empty beer is on the floor next to the couch, his head on one of the toss pillows, and my body sprawled out on top of his with my cheek to his chest. This is not a position I would ever have thought I’d be comfortable in, but when he laid down and dragged me on top of him, I quickly found out I was wrong about that assumption.
“Probably M5,” I mumble, my eyes glued to the TV.
“M15,” he mumbles back.
“That’s what I meant,” I agree, feeling his laughter against my cheek as his chest moves.
Smiling, I focus back on the television.
It’s been forever since I watched a movie or a show that wasn’t appropriately rated for Zuri to watch, and I honestly forgot how much I like just lazing in front of the TV.
Hearing a soft snore as the movie comes to an end sometime later, I lift my head and find Logan asleep.
Placing my hands under my chin, I take my time studying him up close.
He really is handsome, with his sharp cheekbones, the dark scruff covering his jaw, and the perfect bow of his top lip.
And even though he still looks like the guy I had a crush on when I was just a teenager, this older version of him is so much more attractive.
Maybe it’s because I know how much he loves his family, and that even though things didn’t work out between him and his ex, he still cares for her and respects her as a mom, or maybe it’s because he is who he is.
“Are you watching me sleep?” He slides his hand up my back, his voice gruff.
“Yes.” I don’t even deny it. Opening his eyes, his hand slides further up my back. “You missed the end of the movie. Do you want me to rewind it for you?”
“Nah,” his gaze roams over my face for a moment before he leans up and touches his mouth to mine. “How was it?”
“Good.” I rest my chin on my hands against his chest while his hand moves to my hair.
“Are you hungry?”
“No,” I smile, sitting up, with my knees falling to rest on the couch on either side of his hips.
“I’m still full from Olive and Oregano.” Lifting my hair up, I use the tie around my wrist to put the heavy fall of it in a bun and watch his pupils dilate while his hands move to rest on my thighs.
“Are you hungry?” The question comes out half-whispered, half-breathless as I feel his cock jerk against the seam of my jeans.
“A little.” He captures my waist in his hands and slides them up to my ribcage.
Staring into his eyes, my pulse skyrockets while my body floods with heat.
Still holding onto my ribcage with one hand, he captures me behind my neck and pulls my mouth down to his.
As his tongue slips between my lips, I slide forward to get closer and moan when I feel his cock press the seam of my jeans against my clit.
Even with the zipper of his jeans containing his erection, he feels huge.
“Logan,” I breathe as his mouth leaves mine and travels down to the tops of my breast his fingers stroking my nipple through the material of my tank and bra. Leaning back, he cups both my breasts in his hands, causing a whimper to slide up my throat.
“Jesus.” He groans, leaning up and capturing my mouth once more. As he devours my mouth, his fingers move between us, and he easily undoes the button of my jeans before sliding down the zipper.
“Oh…” My hips arch into his hand as he parts my lips and rolls his index finger over my clit. I try to spread my legs wider to give him more room, but with my jeans on, it’s impossible.
“You’re soaking wet, baby.” The words spoken against my mouth in his deep voice, while his fingers circle my clit, only makes me want more.
“Logan.” I roll my hips into his hand, and his fingers press deeper, his middle finger rimming my entrance, giving me everything and nothing all at once. Groaning, he takes his hand from between my legs and sits up, locking his arm under my ass before getting to his feet.