by Nikki Chase
Harper
“Oh my God . . .” Macy says as soon as she opens the door. She clasps her hand over her mouth. Her blue eyes water.
“Who is it, dear?” Matt’s footsteps draw near. He cracks the door open wider and stares. His jaw drops. “What on earth . . .?”
Saying nothing, Macy throws her arms around Logan as tears stream down her face. She’s much shorter than him, so he has to stoop to let the hug happen.
Logan turns to look at me, his face so awkward it would be funny if the situation weren’t so serious.
“What’s going on, Harper?” Matt addresses me for the first time since Mark died. He still looks the same as he used to. Slick, gray hair. Smart, button-down shirt with a wool vest over it. He asks, “Who is this guy? Is he some kind of an impersonator? Is this some kind of a joke?”
I shake my head.
Mark’s parents have been hostile to me since the accident, but I’d never pull such a cruel prank on them.
I just want answers, and these two people are the only ones who can give them to me.
“I was just as surprised as you are when I first met Logan,” I say.
“That’s me,” Logan says awkwardly, waving at Matt from underneath Macy’s smothering hug.
Logan has been living in the city for a couple of months. Now that he has moved into my apartment and found a job, our lives are pretty much stable—as stable as they can be, considering we have a baby on the way.
So now that we finally have some time to spare, I’ve decided to learn the truth about the relationship between Mark and Logan.
That’s why we’re here on a Sunday morning. On the front porch of Mark’s parents—adoptive parents, if our guess is correct.
“Logan.” Matt eyes Logan suspiciously. “And who are you, Logan?”
“That’s what we came here to find out,” I say.
As Macy pulls away from Logan, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, she keeps her gaze on him. “I can’t believe it. You look just like him. Only . . . older.” More tears escape through the corners of Macy’s eyes.
“So you didn’t know Logan existed?” I ask.
Macy shakes her head but says nothing, mesmerized by the sight of Logan.
“Come inside,” Matt says, pulling Macy into the house with him and holding the door open for us.
He leads everyone into the living room and tells us to take our seats on their floral couches, while Macy follows wordlessly and keeps her eyes on Logan.
I scan the house. It doesn’t look much different from the way it used to back when Mark and I were together. I let my gaze linger on the framed photographs resting on the shelves, especially the ones with Mark in them.
I start the conversation as Mark’s parents struggle for words to say. “I understand how you feel. When I first met Logan, I reacted about the same way.”
“And I just thought she was a weirdo.” Logan laughs softly as his attempt to lighten the mood with a joke falls flat. He glances at me, obviously uncomfortable with the way Mark’s parents are staring at him.
“Obviously, I have some questions. And I was hoping you’d be able to help me with them,” I say.
Matt pulls his gaze away from Logan long enough to look me in the eyes. “Yes. Mark was adopted,” he says.
“But we didn’t know he had a twin brother,” Macy adds quickly as more tears roll down her plump, rosy cheeks. “If we had known . . .”
“If we had known, we would’ve adopted a different baby,” Matt says before his wife can finish her sentence. “We told the orphanage we could only take in one child.”
I nod.
I’ve done some research on how orphanages handle the adoption process for twins. Now, most institutions would insist on keeping them together—the same policy applies for siblings, too. But it wasn’t always like this.
“I . . . I had a miscarriage, you see,” Macy says.
“She was inconsolable,” her husband adds, putting his arm around her shoulders and rubbing her arm.
“I felt like the family was incomplete. And so . . .” Macy turns to look at Matt.
“So, we adopted Mark. Not knowing he had a brother.” Matt asks, “How old are you?”
“Twenty-eight,” Logan says.
Macy and Matt exchange a look. I know what they’re thinking. Logan is the same age as Mark would be if he were alive.
“Oh, they shouldn’t have separated you. We should’ve adopted you both.” To Logan, Macy asks, “Where did you grow up? Here, in the city? What’s your family like?”
Logan hesitates, glancing at me before finally answering, “I grew up in the foster system. But yes, I was here, in the city, all along.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry.” Macy lifts a hand to her heart. “We should’ve . . . Oh, Matt, we should call the orphanage and ask them about this.”
“I’ve already called them,” Logan says. As Mark’s parents stare at him again, he adds, “They didn’t want to release any information. I guess they don’t want to be blamed for something that happened almost three decades ago.”
“That’s why we’re here. The orphanage. It’s called Childhaven,” I say.
Matt and Macy nod, recognition in their eyes. It’s the same institution. Both Mark and Logan were there when they were babies.
Macy excuses herself to the kitchen and emerges not long after with glasses of lemonade on a tray.
Slowly, the mood changes as the conversation turns to lighter topics.
Logan tells Macy and Matt about his life, explaining that he’s working at a local hospital. I tell them about my job. They tell me about their children who have gotten married and had kids of their own.
Mark’s parents seem taken aback when I tell them about my relationship with Logan. They’re even more surprised when I tell them about my pregnancy, although they smile and congratulate us.
As we’re about to take our leave at the door, Macy clasps my hands. “I’m so sorry, Harper. It wasn’t right, how we treated you after Mark’s death. It’s taken a lot of time for us to realize it wasn’t your fault.
“Many times, I wanted to reach out to you. Apologize. But I thought you probably hated us and didn’t want to hear from us after what had happened. Or maybe you had a life of your own and would prefer to leave all that in the past.”
I give Macy a smile as tears roll down my cheeks. She’s crying, too. This has been an emotional meeting for all of us.
“Not at all,” I say. “I really appreciate you saying that, Macy.”
She nods as her husband says, “Please keep in touch. We’d love to see your baby when the time comes.”
As we say our goodbyes, it feels like I can finally move on from an old chapter of my life.
In a way, I’m glad the orphanage wasn’t very cooperative because we wouldn’t have approached Macy and Matt otherwise.
Maybe everything really does happen for a reason, after all.
Epilogue
Harper
“Happy birthday,” Logan says as he pushes the door open for me.
The fragrance invites me in, and I find myself in a spacious hotel room with dim, warm lighting from the wall sconces and red rose petals on the bed.
“Wow.” I take off my jacket and set it aside on a desk. It’s cold and wet outside, but this room is warm and cozy.
Logan comes up from behind me and wraps his arms around me. “That’s exactly the reaction I wanted.”
My lips curl up into a smile. “Thank you.”
“I told you. You should trust me.” Logan plants a light kiss on my cheek.
I’ll admit I had my reservations. I mean, I have a beautiful two-month-old baby and I didn’t want to leave his side. Totally understandable, right?
But Logan thwarted all my worries and excuses. That’s how I find myself here at a five-star downtown hotel, instead of at home where my baby is.
It was never really a fair fight, though. Working at the hospital, Logan knows a bunch of obstetricians and
could shoot them a question at any time. On the other hand, I was stuck with only the Internet helping me make my case.
But at the very least, I managed to convince Logan that we should have dinner at home.
Even though the moonlighting nurse from the maternity ward who’s babysitting Jason tonight probably knows what to do, I wanted to be there for the first one or two hours so I could answer any questions she might have. She didn’t have any, by the way.
“You should see this.” Logan takes my hand and leads me past a glass door behind a curtain.
My jaw drops.
I expected an en-suite bathroom, but not this en-suite bathroom.
I can see the whole city through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels in front of me.
Tall skyscrapers dominate the skyline. The sky is dark, and so is the bathroom we’re standing in. But, it’s bright all the way down below, with lights from street lamps, cars, offices, billboards, and retail signage.
I’ve been cooped up in our suburban heaven for so long I’ve forgotten how seductive the city looks when it dark, and it comes alive.
“The water’s warm. But not for long.” Logan embraces me from behind, distracting me from the view as he kisses my neck gently and pulls my shirt up over my head.
I let him strip me bare, a deep sigh escaping my lips as I glance at the bathtub situated right by the glass wall. The water does look good.
I sit on the edge of the tub as Logan sheds his clothes. Peeking over my shoulder, I admire his silhouette.
The minimum lighting draws attention to different parts of his body as he moves, casting most of him in shadows and only briefly shining on his muscular arms, his strong thighs, his six-pack abs, and his thick, throbbing cock.
I bite down on my bottom lip. The wait after giving birth has been torture, but Logan insists that we wait until after I’ve been given the go-ahead by my obstetrician.
I swear fatherhood makes Logan seem a thousand percent sexier. Yes, it’s an irrefutable, totally measurable fact.
Every time Logan picks Jason up into his arms, I want to tear his clothes off.
When he speaks to the baby or smiles at him, I have to stop myself from pressing myself against him and begging him to fuck me.
And if he wakes up in the middle of the night to feed Jason with the milk I store up in bottles in the fridge? Lying all alone in my bed, listening to Logan comforting the baby, sometimes I find my hand wandering down south—until I stop myself.
But now, there’s no need to halt things when they get too hot. And things are definitely heating up.
As Logan steps closer, I reach out to touch him, but he grabs my wrist and stops me.
“Please keep your hands to yourself, Ma’am,” Logan says with exaggerated seriousness.
I giggle, following his movements with my eyes as he climbs into the tub and sits inside it.
“Tonight is all about you,” he says with a sexy smile on his gorgeous face. Little drops of hot water cling to his facial hair, dripping down his neck and into the tub as he looks up at me.
Logan puts his hands on my hips and pulls me closer, submerging my legs deeper in the hot, soothing water. Then, he kisses my knees lightly and glances up at me, giving me the look that he knows makes me melt every time.
I sigh and part my legs as Logan drags his lips up my thighs. The sound of water gently sloshing against the bathtub fills the room.
In the darkness, it feels like we’re in our own private bubble, separate from the rest of the world.
“I miss your scent,” Logan whispers, his breath falling hot on my skin, caressing and teasing me. “I’ve been dreaming of doing this to you for months.”
I blush, knowing I’m soaking wet, and he can probably smell how hopelessly excited I am.
With a hungry groan, Logan puts his mouth on me and begins to lick. I gasp in surprise. I expected him to take his time like he usually does.
“You taste exactly like I hoped you would. Sweeter than honey.” As Logan speaks, his lips graze my pussy lips, keeping me on edge.
He buries his head between my legs and shows me how much he craves me, shoving his tongue deep inside me and devouring me with abandon, occasionally making happy little groans that only get me more excited.
My clit throbs in pleasure as Logan licks up and down my folds, his mouth vibrating against me every time he grunts in pleasure.
I try to stop myself but before I know what I’m doing, I grind myself into Logan’s mouth, chasing my release. I crave this just as much as he does—maybe more.
As my muscles start to spasm, Logan maintains the same pace and movements, prolonging my orgasm with the warm caress of his lips and tongue.
“Oh, Logan,” I sigh.
“You look so fucking beautiful when you come,” he says in a deep, hoarse voice.
My lips curl up into a smile. My cheeks are hot, and I don’t know if that’s because of the water or the orgasm. I put my hands on Logan’s sturdy shoulders and look into his eyes as I lower myself into the water. “Your turn.”
Again, Logan grabs my wrist as I reach underwater for him.
“Do I have to repeat myself?” he asks. “Keep your hands to yourself. Tonight is all about you.”
“You mean . . .” I tilt my head and stare at him in the darkness.
“I mean, I just want you to relax, take a long bath, and then go to sleep. It’s been a long time since you had an uninterrupted night.”
“But I really—”
“I know you want me, too. But we’ll do the other things another day,” he says. “If you still want more, I’ll be happy to make you come—” Logan finds my pussy with his fingers underwater “—again . . . and again . . . and again . . .”
I gasp and tighten my grip on Logan’s shoulders as his fingers play with my petals. In no time, my body starts to shudder again as I bury my face in the crook of his neck.
When I pull away as I come down from my peak, Logan shoots me a sexy smile. “I just want to pamper you tonight, my love. Let me.”
A smile spreads across my cheeks. “Okay. It’s going to be tough, but someone’s got to do it.”
“Good girl.” Logan chuckles. He puts his hand on the back of my skull and pulls me into a kiss.
This isn’t our first kiss—not by any stretch of the imagination. It won’t be our last either. In fact, it’s not any more special than any of the other ones we’ve shared.
But it’s hot. Passionate. And familiar—which is a good thing.
Logan’s kiss was the first thing that made me see him for who he is. And it will always be special for that reason alone.
Even though I first noticed Logan because of the similarities he shared with Mark, he is not his brother. And I’m not with him just because he reminds me of his brother. In fact, the more I get to know Logan, the more different they seem.
Thanks to Logan, I can tear myself from the past and live with both feet firmly in the present. Life is short, after all. Too short to spend wallowing in the past.
“I love you,” Logan says as our naked bodies embrace in the water. His breath is hot, and I can feel his heart beating just underneath his skin.
He’s so alive. And I don’t doubt the veracity of his feelings for me.
Still, I know this, like everything else in the world, is fleeting.
And that only makes everything more precious.
“I love you, too,” I say with a smile.
Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed Harper and Logan’s story.
There’s also a book about Caine Foster. It’s called His Virgin and it’s available on Amazon. :)
His Virgin is also available in the Billionaires and Bad Boys Box Set, which contains SEVEN stand-alone (but related) romances and a bonus exclusive, never-before-published novelette, featuring the seven couples from the stories included in the box set:
Guilty
Stripped
His Virgin
Billionaire Protector
> Virgin Fiancée
Single Dad’s Fake Bride
The Billionaire’s Bride
Bonus Novelette: After the Happily Ever After…
Click here to get the Billionaires and Bad Boys Box Set.
Click here to join Nikki’s VIP List. You’ll be the first one to know about Nikki’s new novels, which are always released at $0.99.
As a member of the VIP List, you’ll also gain access to exclusive bonus content, freebies, and giveaways.
I’ve included some free bonus content in the hopes that you’ll check out the rest of my catalog. Just flip the page to continue reading! :)
xx,
Nikki
Preview: Mountain Man’s Baby Plan
Sophia
“Honey! I didn’t know you were back!” Bertha’s kind eyes gleam as a grin breaks out on her soft, wrinkled face. She walks around the counter at an impressive speed for someone her age and size, wiping her butter-covered hands on her floral apron.
“I just got into town last night.” I return Bertha’s grin as she drowns me in a big, warm hug.
“Oh, if you’d told me you were coming to Ashbourne, I would’ve baked a special batch, just for you.” She tightens her hug, smushing me against her ample chest.
“Anything you bake is special, Bertha,” I say honestly. “Everyone knows you’re the best baker in town.”
“Oh, come on. Don’t you try and flatter me.” Bertha lets me go and waves a dismissive hand. “I was already about to give you some freebies anyway.”
“Honestly, Bertha, I’m not twelve anymore. I can afford to pay for your cupcakes now.”
“Of course, you can. Your parents are so proud of your job in the big city. They’re always telling everybody how well you’re doing.” Bertha walks back behind the counter. “But the main reason my son opened this business for me was because he found out it was my life-long dream to have a shop of my own. I just want to feed everyone and make their day better. So, Sophia, honey, you’ll only be helping me fulfill my dream by taking my cupcakes for free.”
