Season of Second Chances Page 5

  “Sophie good?”

  “Yeah.” He laughed. “Poor Brooke. Nine months pregnant, up at 5 a.m. for presents, and chasing a kid who’s acting like she’s inhaled fifty Pixy Stix.” Turning to look at her, he leaned against the glass door. “So...Sophie has informed me I need to dig out the Christmas decorations, and we have to put the tree up because it’s not fair for you to be here on Christmas day without one.”

  Her mouth turned up. “She sure is bossy. Must get that from Brooke.”

  Logan’s smile was as slow as molasses, until it crept over his whole face, his eyes brightening. “Something like that. So what do you say? Up for some Christmas decorating?”

  She shrugged. “Sure, why not?”

  If nothing else, it would take her mind off exactly how else she’d like to spend the time. And she needed to think about something other than what Logan’s naked body would feel like under hers.

  * * *

  His tree was the most pitiful thing she’d ever seen. It was artificial and about two feet tall and as gangly as a pre-teen growing into their limbs. Hours later, after he’d dug through storage to find the Christmas decorations Sophie had made him purchase last year, they were in full decorating mode.

  “This is the ugliest tree I’ve ever seen.”

  The sound of his laugh, loud and carefree, still warmed her insides. It never failed to bring a smile to her face. “Hey, don’t hate on the tree. It can’t help how it was made.”

  “Seriously, putting these ornaments on it isn’t going to do anything. It’s like putting lipstick on a pig.”

  It wasn’t really that bad, but she needed to deflect before she did something ill-advised. Once again, memories had taken her captive. All she could think about was their first Christmas together after he’d asked her to move in with him. They’d picked out a real tree because that was the kind she’d always had growing up. Logan didn’t care one way or another, so he went along with whatever she wanted. After finding one and hauling it to his place, they’d decorated it with twinkling lights and brand new ornaments, and it had been the most perfect tree she’d ever seen because she shared it with the man she loved.

  She shivered as she recalled what he’d leaned in to whisper in her ear after the last ornament had been hung. How sad was it that three years later she recalled every detail, down to the brush of his fingers against the back of her neck as he’d pushed her hair aside, then the soft cadence of his voice as he’d whispered that he wanted to fuck her right then, right there, under the lights of the tree.

  The sudden illumination of the lights brought her back to the present. When she lifted her eyes to his, he was staring intently at her, and she knew he was recalling the same thing. And though she knew she should, she couldn’t look away. His pale eyes were always so entrancing, but combined with the hungry way he was looking at her, she was a goner.

  “If you’re serious about backing off, you need to stop looking at me like that.”

  She swallowed, attempting to impart some moisture in her too-dry mouth. “Like what?”

  He stepped toward her until he was mere inches away. Her nose came to his chest, and she wanted to press her face to it and inhale deeply. She wanted to slide her arms around his waist and hold him to her, and then she wanted to let him take her right there on the floor under the lights like they had that night so many years ago.

  His finger pressed lightly under her chin, tipping her face to his. He slipped his hands around to cup her face, his thumbs sliding on her jaw. Without conscious thought, she reached up and gripped his forearms, closing her eyes. His lips fluttered barely-there kisses along her cheekbones, her eyelids, her forehead. His hands slipped down to her neck and his lips took a path to her ear. When he spoke, his voice was like liquid sex, and she wanted to drown in it. “Like you want me to bend you over the couch and fuck you right here.”

  Without waiting for her to respond—which was probably good, because all she could manage was a squeak—he brought his mouth to hers. It wasn’t as hungry or urgent as she expected, and she melted into him as his lips caressed hers. He was slow and sweet and tender, and it made her ache all the more. She didn’t stop him, though. Instead, she opened to him, feeling the wet slide of his tongue against hers. His hands tangled in her hair, holding her tightly to him, and she knew that was probably the only way he was keeping himself grounded. Because if he lowered those hands, they’d find her hips, then her breasts, then all the skin hidden by her clothes, and that would be it. He’d take her, again, like they were a couple of horny teenagers who couldn’t control their hormones.

  When he finally pulled away, placing two soft kisses on her lips, he pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes closed, his breath labored. Even though he’d kept his hands in safe territory, she found herself clutching at him, her hands gripped in the material of his sweater above his ass. She was pressed up against him and felt every inch of his body and just how much he wanted her.

  That certainly didn’t make pulling back any easier.

  With his voice so gravelly it was nearly comical, he said, “How about a movie?”

  Under normal circumstances, she would’ve laughed. But all she could do now was nod against him, because if she opened her mouth to answer, she’d beg him to take her to his bed and finish what they started.

  Chapter Eight

  The shrill ringing of a phone dragged Claire out of sleep. She opened her eyes and realized she and Logan had fallen asleep on the couch, the TV illuminating the room in a soft, blue glow. The couch dipped next to her as he moved to get the phone. She glanced at the clock, seeing it was 2 a.m. Why would someone be calling so late? Something was wrong—

  “Dan? Is it Sophie?” The urgency and panic barely restrained in Logan’s voice tugged at her heart and had her moving quickly, even in her sleep-hazed state, to stand by his side. He exhaled deeply, sagging against the counter as he ran a hand through his hair, his eyes closing in obvious relief. “Okay. No, that’s fine. Yeah. I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  After he hung up, she touched his arm. “What’s wrong? Is Sophie okay?”

  “Yeah, she’s fine. Brooke’s water broke. They’re dropping Sophie off on the way to the hospital. I’m going to go down and wait for them.”

  “I’ll come with,” she said, heading over to pull on a pair of shoes. When Logan hadn’t moved, hadn’t said anything, she looked up at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious, thinking maybe she’d overstepped her bounds. “Is...is that okay?”

  “It’s perfect.” He came to her, dropping a soft as silk kiss on her lips before he grabbed his keys, shoved his feet in a worn pair of sneakers and held the door open for her.

  It took Dan and Brooke longer to get there than she would’ve expected, considering they lived less than a mile away. With the storm, though, she was sure the roads had been hard to navigate. She hoped they could get Brooke to the hospital in time.

  A small SUV pulled up and double parked directly in front of the building. She watched as Dan jogged around the car, pulling a still-sleeping Sophie from her booster seat before dashing inside.

  “Hey. I don’t have any of her stuff. I didn’t think to grab—”

  Logan cut him off with a wave of his hand, taking Sophie from him. She snuggled immediately into her father’s chest, the floppy-eared puppy she always slept with clutched in her hand. For some reason, seeing that made Claire’s heart ache. It was hard to believe some things could change so drastically when others stayed exactly the same. “Don’t worry about it, man.” He shooed Dan away. “Go, and call when you have a baby. I’ll bring Sophie by. Good luck!”

  Dan called out his thanks even as he jogged away, his voice getting lost somewhere in the swirling snow outside. He hurried around the car, then sped off as fast as the road conditions would allow. When Claire turned to Logan, he was already looking
at her. Seeing him like this knocked the breath out of her. Here he was, this big, intimidating force of a man holding his little girl who looked no bigger than a doll in his massive arms. And he was so gentle with her, turning his head to place a kiss on her hair, his eyes still connected to Claire’s.

  When he held out his hand to her, she didn’t even think about it, she just went. The entire ride up the elevator, and then the walk down the hall to his apartment, he held her hand in his, caressing her skin with his thumb. He brought Sophie to her bedroom, and Claire watched on from the doorway as he tucked her in, dropping a kiss to her forehead before turning on her night light.

  Claire stepped out into the hallway to give him room to exit Sophie’s bedroom, and he shut the door behind him, leaning against it as he stared at her. “Looks like you got kicked out of your room.”

  Her mind seemed to be a million miles away, so it took her a moment to catch up. When she realized what he was saying, she waved her hand, shaking her head slightly. “Oh, that’s okay. I can sleep on the couch.”

  “Claire.” The look he gave her, combined with the tone he used, told her exactly what he thought of that idea. “We’re both adults. I think we can sleep in the same bed without having sex. I promise I’ll be a complete gentleman.” And, like with everything else, he didn’t leave room to argue, simply taking her hand and pulling her behind him. She was already in a pair of fitted cotton pants and a T-shirt, having changed before they’d started watching movies, so she slipped right into his bed. She tried not to stare as Logan peeled off his shirt, leaving him in his plaid pajama pants, and crawled in next to her.

  Despite his promises of no inappropriateness, he still pulled her to him, tucking his knees behind hers, her back to his chest. With his hand spread wide across her stomach, he whispered in her ear, “Just want to hold you.”

  And even though she knew it was probably a bad idea, she didn’t protest.

  * * *

  “Daddy.”

  The weight on his chest was heavy, and an incessant voice that sounded an awful lot like his daughter buzzed in his ears.

  “Daaaaddy.”

  Two quick, sharp pokes to his chest and his eyes flew open, coming face to face with the toothless grin of his daughter. Groaning, his head fell to the pillow. “Sophie, how many times do I have to tell you not to wake me up like that? You scare the sh—” At the look she gave him, he quickly amended his choice of words. “You scare the crap out of me when you do that.”

  “Sorry, Daddy.” But by the widening of her smile, he knew she was anything but. “Guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to be a big sister today!”

  He chuckled lowly at her excitement. “Well, maybe today. Don’t get too upset if we don’t hear from your mom till late tonight or even tomorrow, okay?”

  “I know. Mommy already told me all that.”

  “All right. Are you excited?”

  Her eyes brightened even further, her gums showing as she grinned, positively beaming at him. She nodded, her chin brushing against his chest. “So excited!”

  His daughter’s exuberance should’ve lightened his spirit, should’ve made him happy. But all it did was reaffirm he wasn’t able to give her any of this. He’d wanted to...more than anything. When he and Claire had been engaged, they’d talked about having more kids, and though she wasn’t adept with them, she’d thought she’d wanted them. With him.

  The memory punched him in the chest, his thoughts weighed down by what ifs and what could’ve beens.

  By now, who knew? It could’ve been Claire’s belly round with his child, and Sophie excited to meet him or her. Instead, not only did he not have another child on the way, he didn’t even have a wife. But more than that, he didn’t even have Claire.

  As if Sophie was reading his mind, she asked in a whisper, “Is that Claire?” She looked over to where Claire slept peacefully, turned on her side, her hands pressed together and tucked under her chin.

  “Yes,” he whispered, returning his attention to his daughter.

  “Is she your girlfriend again?”

  He reached up, smoothing the wild wisps of hair away from her face. “No, squirt. She’s not.”

  A frown marred her face, and he hated that he’d put it there. “Why not?”

  He blew out a breath. What the hell could he tell her? That it was all his fault? That he’d fucked up more times than just the once, but Claire had finally had enough? That, above all, he couldn’t even blame her for it? “It’s...complicated.”

  “Well, that’s stupid.”

  “Hey, watch it.”

  “Well, it is. And besides, if she’s your girlfriend that means that other mean lady won’t come to dinner again.”

  He rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t mean, Sophie. Regardless, she’s not coming back again, so you don’t have to worry about that.”

  “But I still want Claire to be here. Like she used to be, I mean. She used to play dress-up with me and let me fix her hair. I miss her.”

  He glanced at Claire once more, ensuring she was still asleep. Even though he and Sophie had spoken in nothing but hushed voices, he didn’t want to take a chance she was awake. Satisfied she was still out, he turned back to Sophie. “I do, too, baby girl.” Before she could argue again—something she could happily spend hours doing—he grabbed her around the waist and lifted her out of the bed. “How about we make pancakes?”

  “Yes!” she whisper-yelled before tearing out of the room, not bothering to wait for him to follow.

  He grabbed a hoodie and pulled it on, turning to look at Claire once more, still lying motionless on the bed, before he stepped into the hallway and softly closed the door behind him.

  * * *

  Claire lay frozen, still attempting to make her breathing even, though she had no need to anymore. She hadn’t been awake for their entire conversation, but she had been for enough of it. Enough to bring a whole slew of questions to her that she had no answers for.

  Logan wanted her here, and she couldn’t deny the feelings for him that bubbled under the surface. Being back here was like ripping open a still-healing wound. With the storm she’d had all of his attention, so the bad part—and the ultimate demise—of their relationship was non-existent. It was hard to remember how distant he could be, or how heartbroken she’d been when left with dinner on the table and no fiancé there to eat with her.

  To further complicate everything, she knew, without a doubt, there were opportunities here in Chicago with her company, and transferring back would be smooth and seamless. But did she want that? It was true San Diego had nothing left to offer her, and being in her grandmother’s house only pulled her into memories she needed to leave behind to properly grieve and heal completely. She’d been thinking about moving for a few months, had talked to Sadie about putting their childhood home on the market and Claire moving on to somewhere else, but the thought of coming back to Chicago had never entered her mind. If anything, she would’ve worked hard to avoid it.

  But now...

  She sighed, rolling on her back and scrubbing a hand over her face. A tinkle of laughter floated from the kitchen, and though it was clear Logan was trying to be quiet, pans still clanged as he and Sophie readied breakfast. Claire didn’t know what was going to happen between the two of them, and didn’t know what that would mean for her future. So instead of being lost in a sea of uncertainty, she decided not to focus on it. She was going to enjoy the day with Sophie. She hadn’t seen her in so long, and losing her had been nearly as difficult as losing Logan. Her heart had broken for more than just him when things hadn’t worked out between them.

  And though she was looking forward to spending time with the little girl, she couldn’t help the foreboding sense that she was about to have her heart broken again.

 
Chapter Nine

  “Come on, Claire!”

  With amusement, Logan watched as his daughter tugged on Claire’s hand, trying with all her seven-year-old might to drag Claire behind her. His long strides kept pace with his exuberant daughter as she hurried toward the cluster of illuminated trees surrounding the ice rink in Millennium Park. She’d been begging him to go for a month, but with his schedule it hadn’t worked out. And as he watched his two favorite girls interact, he couldn’t say he regretted that now.

  Their reunion had gone better than he could’ve even hoped for. He knew Sophie had been smitten with Claire at one point, had been upset when she’d gone to help her grandmother, but with time that had waned—out of sight, out of mind. By the time Logan and Claire had called off the engagement, Sophie had all but stopped asking about her. Every once in a while, though, completely out of the blue, she’d say something about Claire and it always took him by surprise, forcing him to take a moment before he could respond.

  Even with the positive past they shared and her excitement from this morning at finding a sleeping Claire next to him, he couldn’t help but be apprehensive about them interacting again, especially given Sophie’s reaction to the last date he’d brought home.

  Turned out he’d worried for nothing.

  “Daddy! Claire said she’d go ice skating with us—come on!”

  She reached back to grab his hand and was now tugging both him and Claire behind her as she marched her way with a single-minded focus to the ice rink. He looked over at Claire, smiling as she was willingly pulled through the few random stragglers around the rink.

  As they stood in the short line to rent their skates, Sophie chatting a mile a minute about some movie she’d seen, Logan couldn’t help but sneak glances at Claire. He could admit he tuned his daughter out from time to time—really, what parent didn’t? When they talked for what seemed like twenty-two out of twenty-four hours a day, sometimes you needed the mental peace. But not Claire. She was engrossed in everything Sophie said, nodding and smiling and asking questions when appropriate.