Chapter 17
POV: Suzy
The windows were down, and Izzy was singing softly to some retro pop song playing on the radio while Logan drove one-handed, his other resting on my thigh like it belonged there. Spoiler: it did.
“You’re unusually quiet,” he murmured, glancing at me from the driver’s seat with that teasing half-smile that should be illegal before noon.
I grinned and laced my fingers with his. “Just taking it all in. Sunshine, music, the man beside me who actually agreed to eat red meat today…”
“I’m sacrificing my arteries for Daniel’s friendship,” Logan deadpanned. “That man takes barbecuing like a sacred rite.”
Izzy snorted from the back. “Dad, last time you ate a burger, you spent twenty minutes reading the sodium label on the bun.”
“I stand by that,” he said, without shame. “But fine. I’ll eat the bun. For friendship.”
I laughed, turning to look back at Izzy. “At least pretend to be impressed, Izzy. It’s a big day. Logan Kaiser is socializing on purpose.”
She grinned and leaned forward between the seats. “I’m proud of him. He even shaved.”
“Barely,” I muttered.
“Savages,” Logan said, but he was smiling too.
When we pulled up in front of Daniel and Barbara’s house, the girls had barely opened their car doors before they launched into each other’s arms like they’d been separated for months instead of days.
“Lily!”
“Izzy!”
They twirled each other around on the lawn, squealing in stereo, and took off hand-in-hand toward the backyard like cartoon best friends on a sugar rush.
Logan came around to my side of the car, offering his hand in that old-school gentleman way that somehow made my stomach flip even after everything we’d done in that shower.
“Ready?” he asked, eyes soft and warm.
I reached for him, tugging him closer by the front of his T-shirt. “You mean for a full day of grilled meat, dad jokes, and Barbara inevitably interrogating you about your intentions with me?”
He leaned down and brushed a kiss to my cheek. “Bring it on.”
Inside the backyard, smoke was already wafting from the grill, and Daniel stood over it like a proud lion, wielding tongs like a sword. Barbara was pouring lemonade into mismatched glasses and wearing an apron that read Kiss the Cook and Pour Me Wine.
“Well, well, well,” Barbara said the moment we stepped through the gate. “Look who finally emerged from their love bubble.”
“Love bubble?” Logan muttered under his breath.
I squeezed his hand. “Just nod and smile.”
Daniel waved the tongs in greeting. “Logan. You’re exactly on time. Suzy always used to show up late.”
“She bribed me with coffee this morning,” Logan replied.
Barbara came over and pulled me into a tight hug before turning to Logan. “You—come here. I need to inspect the man who managed to make our Suzy glow.”
Logan raised a brow. “Glow?”
“Shush. It’s a compliment,” I said, trying to stifle a laugh.
Barbara hugged him with surprising force. “Okay. Fine. You’re warmer than expected. And you didn’t flinch. You may stay.”
“I appreciate the generosity,” Logan said dryly.
We settled into the backyard—Logan pulling me onto his lap when the seats ran out, his arms wrapped securely around my waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And honestly, it was. I leaned back against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat through his chest, and let myself breathe.
The girls ran circles around us, occasionally stopping for lemonade, chips, or hugs, and Barbara played DJ from a Bluetooth speaker, alternating between classic rock and early 2000s hits. Daniel was in full barbecue dad mode, flipping burgers and toasting buns like a man on a mission.
Logan didn’t even complain when Barbara handed him a fully loaded burger. He ate it with visible effort and the kind of determination I’d previously only seen him reserve for surgical procedures.
“Proud of you,” I whispered.
He looked at me, his eyes twinkling. “I’d eat five more if it keeps you smiling like that.”
Barbara caught us kissing again—nothing dramatic, just a sweet, slow kiss—and fanned herself with a paper plate. “Okay, now you’re just showing off.”
“I really like her,” Logan said, with zero shame.
Daniel handed him a beer. “Yeah, we noticed.”
The backyard smelled like charcoal and sunshine.
Daniel had dragged Logan off to show him his latest “masterpiece project” — a half-built training bar set that looked more like a jungle gym from Home Depot than Olympic equipment.
Logan, ever the stoic, listened with polite nods while Daniel gestured wildly like a mad scientist who’d just discovered fire.
That left Barbara and me at the patio table, the girls bent over their sketchbooks, giggling as they drew sparkly leotards and pizza-shaped trophies.
Barbara leaned back in her chair, wine glass in hand, and gave me a look that was so pointed I nearly spilled my lemonade.
“What?” I asked, suspicious.
“Nothing,” she said, far too innocently. Then, after a beat: “It’s just… I’ve known Logan for years. We’ve crossed paths at competition after competition, and you know what I always called him?”
I raised a brow. “Dr. Ice King.”
Barbara shrugged. “He was always polite, professional, but… cold. Distant. Like he had this invisible wall around him no one could get through. I honestly thought that’s just who he was.” She sipped her wine, eyes gleaming now. “And then you showed up.”
Heat crept up my neck. “Barb—”
“No, listen.” She set the glass down, leaning in.
“I’ve never seen him like this, Suzy. He’s not just thawed — he’s melted. He smiles, he laughs, he actually sticks around instead of hiding behind his phone or pacing the bleachers like a watchdog. He looks…”
She tilted her head. “Happy. Genuinely happy.”
My chest tightened, the words sinking in deep.
“And you,” she added softly, her voice gentler now. “You look the same. My little sister who’s always been reserved, who never let herself get carried away, who spent too many nights with wine and Netflix pretending she didn’t want more… you look happy. Finally.”
Something in me cracked wide open, because she was right.
“I am,” I whispered, blinking hard against the sudden burn in my eyes. “God, Barb, I’m really happy. With him, with Izzy… with all of it. It’s scary, but it feels right.”
She smiled, reaching across to squeeze my hand. “Then hold on to it. Because you deserve this. And honestly, it’s about time.”
I laughed wetly, squeezing her back.
“And hey,” she added, her grin turning mischievous, “if you and Logan want a few weekends to play house, you just say the word. Lily and Izzy are practically glued at the hip anyway. We’ll manage. You two deserve your time.”
“Barbara!” I swatted at her, half mortified, half touched.
“What?” she said innocently, though the sparkle in her eyes gave her away. “All I’m saying is, I’ve never seen you this glowing. If Logan’s the reason, then I’ll happily take his daughter for as many sleepovers at my place as you want.”
I groaned, burying my face in my hands while she cackled.
But under the laughter, the teasing, the sisterly ribbing, one truth anchored me steady: Barbara was right. I was glowing. I was happy.
And for once, I wasn’t afraid to admit it.
Later, the sun dipped low and the girls settled under a tree with popsicles, whispering secrets and giggling, the kind of best-friend laughter that made everything feel right in the world.
I leaned my head on Logan’s shoulder, my hand resting over his.
“I didn’t think my life would look like this,” I said softly. “But I’m so glad it does.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Me too.”
And as the scent of grilled food lingered in the air, and laughter bubbled all around us, I realized this wasn’t just a Sunday barbecue. This was a beginning. One filled with love, friendship, healing—and a grumpy surgeon who made me believe in forever.
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