Chapter 23
Dani
The smell of coffee drifting in from the hallway was what woke me first.
Then came the clinking of dishes and the unmistakable whispering of Harper trying very hard to be quiet.
“Daddy, shhh! You’ll wake her up!”
“I’m not the one talking,” Logan whispered back.
“You’re breathing loud.”
“I can’t stop breathing.”
“Try.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. I shifted slightly in bed, a reflexive wince pulling at my muscles, as the lingering ache flared briefly.
While the heaviness of the night before had lifted thanks to the heating pad and some much-needed rest, traces of pain still whispered through my limbs, reminding me of their presence.
When I opened my eyes, sunlight was spilling through the curtains, casting a warm, soft golden wash over the room.
The air held the cozy scent of toast and cinnamon, wrapping around me like a comforting embrace.
Somewhere down the hall, Harper’s giggles rang out, bright and full of life, echoing throughout the house.
And then I heard a gentle knock on my door.
“Come in,” I said, voice still rough with sleep.
The door cracked open, and Harper peeked her head in, face glowing with pride. “Good morning, sleepyhead! We made you breakfast in best!”
“In bed,” Logan corrected behind her, balancing a tray.
“That’s what I said,” she said, waving him through.
He shot me an amused look as he carried the tray to the bed.
“She’s been up since six. I tried to convince her to let you sleep longer.
” His eyes lingered for a moment longer than usual, as if he were weighing his words carefully.
There was a slight pause, his smile tempered by a flicker of hesitation that hinted at a deeper worry beneath his lightheartedness.
“No time for sleeping when we’re making fancy breakfast,” Harper said proudly.
“Fancy?” I echoed.
She nodded vigorously. “Toast, eggs, and strawberries shaped like hearts! Daddy cut them.”
I looked at the plate and smiled — they’d actually done it. Slightly uneven, but adorable little strawberry hearts lined up beside buttered toast and scrambled eggs.
“This looks amazing,” I said sincerely. “Did you two take over MasterChef Junior while I was sleeping?”
Harper giggled, climbing up beside me. “Daddy said you needed food with vitamins and love in it.”
“That’s the best kind,” I said softly.
Logan set the tray down carefully and handed me the coffee. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Thank you,” I said, meeting his eyes. “For all of this.”
He shrugged, but there was that soft smile again, the one that made my chest do an inconvenient little flip. For a fleeting second, a worry crossed my mind: Was it foolish to let myself see him in this way? “You earned it. You were a trooper last night.”
Harper leaned against my arm. “Daddy took care of you while I slept! He’s good at that. When I get tummy aches, he makes me tea and rubs my back.”
“Does he?” I asked, glancing at him.
He casually shrugged his shoulders, half-smiling.
Harper hopped off the bed. “I’m gonna go get dressed so we can take Dani for a walk later. Daddy, don’t eat her toast while I’m gone!”
“I’ll try to resist,” he said as she darted down the hall.
When she disappeared, the room grew still, leaving just the lull of morning and the clatter of a spoon against the tray.
Logan sat down on the edge of the bed, making sure not to jostle it too much. He adjusted the bedspread, smoothing it out with one hand, as if settling into the moment. “You look better,” he remarked, a hint of relief easing his expression.
“I feel better,” I said. “Still achy, but not dying.”
He nodded, relief softening the line of his shoulders. “You scared me a little last night.”
“I didn’t mean to,” I said quietly. “It just… hits sometimes.”
“I get it.”
And the way he said it, in that low, steady voice that seemed to carry more weight than just an understanding of my pain, made me wonder if he truly did.
“I owe you, though,” I said after a moment. “For taking care of me. For not running for the hills when you saw me half-conscious and cranky.”
He chuckled. “Dani, I’ve handled worse. You’re allowed to have a bad night.”
I studied him for a second. “You’re good at this care-taking thing.”
He smiled faintly, looking down at his hands. “It’s kind of been my whole life. Started with Harper. Probably before, honestly.”
I hesitated, then asked softly, “Can I ask about her mom?”
He stilled, fingers tightening just slightly on his knee. But then he exhaled slowly and nodded. “Yeah. You can.”
“I just—Harper talks about her sometimes. She said her mom would’ve liked me.”
That made him smile, small and wistful. “Yeah. She would’ve.”
He stared at the coffee cup in his hands for a moment before speaking again. “Elena and I met when I was stationed at Camp Pendleton. She was a nurse. We weren’t together long before she got pregnant, and we got married.”
He paused, the weight of memory flickering across his face. “She had a tough pregnancy. Complications started early. We were scared, but she kept saying she could handle it. She did, until she couldn’t.”
The soft stillness that followed wasn’t heavy, just… reverent. It now made sense why he seemed so concerned last night.
I reached out, resting my hand gently on his. “I’m sorry.”
He nodded, swallowing hard. “She died a few minutes after Harper was born. I was sitting right there, holding both of them. And I remember thinking, how the hell do you love something so much and lose something so fast in the same breath?”
My heart ached. “How did you do it all on your own?”
“The Marines transferred me to a local position for a while, but it didn’t last. I left active duty when Harper turned two. Couldn’t keep leaving her.”
“She’s lucky to have you,” I said softly.
“I don’t know,” he murmured. “I did what I could. Some days I feel like I’ve just been winging it, hoping I don’t screw her up too bad.”
I looked at him and said gently, “Logan, that little girl is confident, funny, and kind. You didn’t just raise her—you taught her love. That doesn’t happen by accident.”
He met my gaze then, and for a moment, the room felt suspended between heartbeats.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. “You’ve been good for her, you know. For both of us.”
I smiled, trying to hide how deeply that landed. “Well, I try to leave places a little brighter than I found them.”
He grinned. “You definitely did that.”
He reached for the coffee carafe, the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with a subtle hint of vanilla, filling the space between us.
In the other room, I could hear Harper humming while brushing her teeth, completely off-key.
“This is nice,” I said softly.
“It is,” he said, his voice low.
I looked at him over the rim of my mug, my heart tugging in directions I didn’t have words for.
“I don’t know what this is,” I said finally, “but I know it feels good.”
He smiled, slow and sincere. “Yeah, it does.”
Harper’s footsteps thundered back down the hallway before either of us could say more. “Ready!” she declared, wearing two different socks and a sparkly headband.
Logan stood, ruffling her hair.
She giggled and reached for my hand. “Come on, Ms. Dani! You’re not sick anymore! We have to go outside before the sun hides!”
I laughed, setting my tray aside. “Give me five minutes, superstar.”
As she darted off again, I looked back at Logan. He was watching her with that look, the one that was all love and gratitude and awe.
When our eyes met again, he smiled that soft, easy smile I’d come to love. “She’s got your sparkle now.”
I grinned. “Guess it’s contagious.”
And as he turned to follow Harper down the hall, I let myself feel it — the warmth, the safety, the pull of something more.
The ache from last night had dulled, but it was now replaced with something else entirely.