Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
I feel the dip of the bed and his arm circle my body before anything else. He buries his face in my hair and inhales deeply before he lets out a heavy sigh. Rolling into his embrace, I nuzzle into his chest with my eyes still closed.
I can hear thunder rumbling in the distance as the wind howls and rain beats against the glass of my bedroom window.
When I got home earlier, I showered and changed into pyjamas before crawling into bed and hiding beneath the blankets. Penelope found me a short time later, and I held her until I fell asleep.
“What time is it?” I whisper into Logan’s soft shirt. He smells like sandalwood and wood smoke.
“Around 4 p.m.,” he mumbles quietly as his hand moves up and cups the back of my neck. He places a soft kiss on the top of my head before saying, “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
Leaning back slightly, I meet his soft brown eyes. I can see worry marring his handsome face. Sliding my hand up, I cup his cheek, and he sighs, leaning into my touch.
“I’ve been sleeping for hours.”
“Then just let me hold you for a while.” When I rest my cheek on his chest again, he hooks his leg around mine and pulls me even closer.
“I talked to my mom this morning,” I say softly.
I feel him nod his head before he asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“She knew all along, Logan. About everything.”
“I know. Mom showed up at my place earlier and told me. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t know what to do with all of this. I’m experiencing information overload.”
“What can I do? I’ll do anything,” he pleads, shifting his body, so I’m now draped over him.
Pushing myself up on my elbow, I look down. He looks exhausted. His hair is a shaggy mess, and he has dark circles under his eyes.
My emotions are so conflicted. I was so angry and hurt beyond belief last night. After speaking to my mom, I am beginning to realize he was a victim to other people’s bad decisions almost as much as I have been.
“I’m glad you are here and didn’t wait for me to reach out.” I smile softly at him.
“Yeah? I knew I was taking a risk, but I needed to be with you. I’m so sorry.” His eyes search mine looking for answers I don’t quite have yet. “What can I do?”
“I know you are. We have a lot we need to talk about.” His arm falls away as I sit up and cross my legs in the middle of the bed. He pushes himself up to lean back on the headboard and takes my hand.
Squeezing it twice, he says, “Whatever you need.”
My stomach rumbles loudly in the quiet room. “How about we get up and I rustle up something for us to eat. I haven’t had anything but a donut this morning.”
Smiling, he swings his feet to the floor and stands. Of course, he is wearing my favourite grey sweatpants that showcase one of my favourite things. When I look up at him, he smirks knowingly.
“You aren’t playing fairly,” I grumble, crossing my arms.
Shaking his head, he reaches for me and pulls me off the bed. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Don’t worry about food, I took care of it.”
Taking my hand, he threads our fingers together and leads me out of the bedroom into the kitchen. The heavenly scent of tomato sauce and spicy pepperoni hit my nose. “Oh my god that smells so good,” I groan as my stomach rumbles again.
“I brought an apology pizza with me.” He smiles, bashfully pulling it out of the oven where he has been keeping it warm. Placing it on the table I can see he already has it set.
I’m surprised to see a large vase of brightly coloured gerbera daisies. Beside it, a box of gourmet donuts from Maggie’s. He’s pulling out all his tricks if he managed to pick up all these things on a holiday Monday when everything is closed.
“How did you get all of this?” I ask curiously. From my seat, I look around the room and see the fire is roaring. Morgan is snoring on the couch, and Penelope is perched on the back above him.
“I may owe a few people favours, but it’s worth it.” He smiles as he shrugs one shoulder. “Come sit.” He pulls out my chair before sitting across from me.
“Have you been here very long?” I ask, reaching for a slice of pizza. Taking a bite, I close my eyes and moan as the flavours burst on my tongue. As I begin to chew, I open my eyes and see Logan watching my mouth.
“Not that long.” Sitting back in his chair, he tries and fails to discretely adjust himself.
Laughing, I continue to eat. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was. Thank you for the food and flowers; they are my favourite.”
“I remember. You’re welcome.”
We sit quietly enjoying our meal for a moment before Logan clears his throat.
I look up and meet his sad eyes as he says, “Do you want me to leave?”
Furrowing my brow, I ask, “Do you need to go?” I’m confused. Logan and I have been spending the night together for weeks.
“I mean leave Emerley.” He rubs the back of his neck with his left hand before continuing. “More than once in the past eighteen hours, I have questioned if it was a good idea to buy the yellow house and move home.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want to be here?” My stomach clenches with anxiety. He can’t leave me again.
“Of course, I want to be here,” he quickly reassures me.
“Coming home, back to you, is all I have dreamed of for years.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand.
Searching my eyes for answers, he continues, “I want to be here more than anything, but I don’t want to hurt you more than I already have. ”
“How about you let me decide for a change?” Dropping his hand, I push my chair back.
Standing up, I walk to the window and stare out at the rain. Lightning cracks and brightens the grey sky quickly followed by a boom of thunder. The waves on the lake have become choppy as they hit the shore. Logan comes up behind me, his arms circle my waist.
“Okay. I’ll do anything, just tell me what to do,” he whispers in my ear. “Talk to me, please.”
“Come,” I say, leading him to the couch and push him to sit.
Morgan grumbles that we are encroaching on his territory before sliding to the floor and flopping back down on the rug. Penelope follows, spins a few times and curls up beside him. Bizarre.
Once Logan is seated, I straddle his lap and rest my palms on his shoulders. His large hands hold my hips. I noticed earlier that his right hand has a bandage wrapped around his split knuckles.
“How’s your fist?”
“A little tender, but I don’t think anything is broken. I’ll keep it wrapped for a couple of days so the skin heals up. I did reschedule my appointments for the rest of the week, though,” he scowls.
“You don’t have X-ray vision. You should really get it checked,” I huff. “Fighting with him was stupid. What were you thinking?”
“He called you a name and was being rude to you,” he says defensively.
This man.
I roll my eyes. “I don’t need you to protect and defend me. I can handle anything hateful Jackson spews. What I can’t handle is not being told the truth,” I say softly.
Closing his eyes, he sinks further into the couch. “I know. You are one of the strongest people I have ever met. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything immediately. I felt so guilty.”
“You have been trying to tell me nonstop since you moved home and I was too stubborn to listen, so that’s on me.”
“I should have tried harder.”
“Why did you feel guilty? You were kept in the dark as much as I was. Your mistake was not telling me as soon as you found out about the affair. Maybe then, we could have navigated it together.”
Dropping his eyes, he clears his throat and says, “My family is responsible for your father’s death and your mother’s breakdown. My family destroyed your life.”
My eyes widen and my mouth parts open. Is that what he truly thinks?
“No, Logan.” I shake my head. “Nobody was responsible for his death. It was a terrible accident, and you know that.”
“But if he hadn’t been on the road that night to come home to see us it would have never happened,” he mumbles.
I cup his cheek so he will meet my eyes. “You don’t know that. He could have just as easily been going to see a client.”
“But Jackson...” he argues.
“No, Logan,” I interrupt, “we aren’t going to pin my father’s accident on Jackson. We can be angry at him for many things but not my father’s death. My mother’s mental illness is her own, and she had it long before my dad died; there is no need to take responsibility for it either.”
“How are you being so reasonable about this?” He squeezes his fingers into my hips.
“Oh honey, I don’t think I’m being reasonable at all.
” I thread my fingers through the back of his hair and pull slightly as I tilt his head to directly meet my eyes.
“I am angry, and I’m hurt. I hate that our parents covered up such a big secret and didn’t trust us with the truth.
I hate that I had to make decisions without all the information.
I hate that choices were taken or made for me.
I hate that Jackson played a starring role in all that deception.
Most of all, I hate that you chose to leave instead of talking to me and that we missed so much time together.
” I feel Logan’s hand leave my hip and gently wipe away the tears trailing down my face.
Leaning in, I place a light kiss on his lips before sliding further down his lap.
“No more secrets and no more lies. I’m so sorry. I promise I will spend every day for the rest of my life making it up to you,” he assures me.
Holding his face in my hands I look deep into his eyes. “Good. Now take me back to bed and apologize to me properly.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice as he slides forward and stands up quickly with me in his arms. My legs wrap around his hips as he carries me through the house, into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us.