“Logan.”
I looked at Rebecca over my shoulder, raising an eyebrow. She shrugged as the grin took over her face.
Without thinking, I smoothed my shirt down, ignoring a faint laugh behind me before I turned to put my finger to my lips to indicate she should be quiet. She shook her head and I turned back to the door, pulling at the handle.
He stood on the other side of the door, his brows furrowed in concern. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Why?”
“Just heard a noise, and something hit the wall. It was just a bit late, and I thought I’d better check it out.”
I stifled a giggle. “That was me. We opened a bottle of wine.”
His lips turned down, and I thought I saw disappointment in his eyes. “As long as you're all okay. I thought I’d better check. Especially with this damn light not working.”
“We’re fine. Thanks for checking.”
He studied my face, looking for something. Maybe he thought I was hiding something after the earlier events. “I’ll leave you to your wine.”
“Are you sure?” Rebecca called. “I can only have one glass because I’m driving, and there’s plenty left.”
His eyebrow snaked up.
“I’m having a glass of wine with my boss, Rebecca. You’re welcome to join us.”
Now he lit up. “Sure. Sounds great.”
The way Rebecca looked him up and down, I could tell I’d have some explaining to do. She was noticing him just the way I did.
“So, you’re the famous Logan,” she said as I retrieved another glass from the kitchen. I clapped one hand across my forehead. Sure, talk it up. I only had to live next door to him.
“I don’t know about that. Liv?” Logan was looking at me with those beautiful brown puppy-dog eyes.
“I told Rebecca about our trip to the park. You have to excuse her, she’s not quite all there.” I smiled sweetly as Rebecca peed herself laughing in the corner.
I sat on the chair opposite the couch as Logan was now seated next to Rebecca. Leaning forward, I poured the wine into the glass and pushed it across the table at him.
“So you’ve been talking about me?” he asked.
“Now I have two of you ganging up on me? Great.” I shook my head, looking at the ceiling. They both had their eyes on me.
“I have been telling Olivia that she needs to go out and get laid. You know, move on from her crappy ex-husband.”
Logan’s eyes were fixed on me as I looked back down, and he smiled that cheeky grin that made the butterflies in my stomach dance.
“Sounds like a great idea. Where do I sign up?”
It was only Rebecca’s laughter that broke our gaze.
And I was struggling to find words.
Chapter Eleven
I figured it was my turn to say thank you to Logan, for defending me against Evan. That, and to apologise for Rebecca mouthing off. I knew she was just trying to push me, but it was a bit much at times.
After breakfast on Saturday morning, I set to baking cookies. When I’d been at home with Mum, I’d been quite a prolific baker. I loved working with dough, and who doesn’t like making a mess?
The boys were wide-eyed at the sight. It wasn’t something I did often, and both of them wanted to help. I resolved to bake more often.
Jack sifted the flour while Thomas added the chocolate chips. He painstakingly took each and every one out of the bag individually, placing them in the dough until I tipped his hand up and they scattered in the mixture, over the bench and all over the floor.
“Mummy.” Thomas giggled.
“We can vacuum them up.”
“Five second rule?” Jack asked.
I shrugged. The floor was freshly mopped. At least I knew it was clean.
Jack dived onto the floor, picking them up and popping them straight into his mouth, and I laughed as Thomas joined him.
“Just leave them, I’ll sort them out. There’s some left in the bag; you guys can have those when we finish.” I cocked my head, trying to look serious. “Come back here and we’ll roll out the dough and you two can use the cookie cutters to cut them into shapes.”
By the time 10am rolled around, we had a tray of perfectly cooked chocolate chip cookies in all different shapes. I’d accumulated different cookie cutters over the years into a collection. Now the boys used every single one.
“These look yummy,” Jack said.
“We’re going to take some next door to Logan. To say thank you.”
I turned my focus to the cookies, placing them one by one on the plate.
Jack tugged on my sleeve. “From when Daddy came?”
My little man—so wise beyond his years.
“Yes. Logan’s been good to us, so we need to say thank you.”
“I wish we could go to the park,” Thomas said.
“Another day¸ baby.”
I ran the vacuum over the kitchen floor, picking up the remaining chips before we gathered some cookies on a plate and left the apartment. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on Logan’s door.
It took a while for it to open, but he was worth the wait. Clearly he’d just woken up from his still sleepy eyes, and he’d either slept in his jeans or he’d just dragged them on. He didn’t wear a shirt.
There was that beautiful chest that made my stomach flip with excitement.
Down, girl.
“Oh, hey, Liv. What’s up? Everything okay?”
My mouth went dry as I looked at him. I struggled to raise my eyes from his abs, my heart pounding hard.
“I … um … everything’s fine.” I thrust the plate towards him. “Cookies.”
He smirked, raising an eyebrow. “Have you been to the bakery?”
“We made them,” Thomas exclaimed.
“Really?” Logan grinned. “That makes them extra special. Come in. I can probably throw together a coffee, or juice for the kids.”
We followed him into his apartment. I’d never seen it before, and I was struck by how empty it was. There was a couch along one wall, with a TV and cabinet opposite, a coffee table in the middle. A small table stood next to the kitchen area with a couple of chairs.
There were no decorations, no books, nothing. Not like our place, where I’d cut down on how much stuff we had, but it still seemed to be bursting at the seams.
I placed the cookies on the coffee table and followed him over to the kitchen.
“So did you really make the cookies?” he asked.
“It was a joint effort. There were a million chocolate chips all over my kitchen floor to prove it.”
He laughed. “Sounds like fun.”
“Mum, can we have a cookie?” Jack asked.
“Yep, one each.”
Logan turned back toward me, a glass in each hand. “Here’s some orange juice for the boys. Do you want one, or a coffee? I've just put some water on.”
“Coffee would be nice, please.”
Our fingers touched as I took the glasses, and I tingled at the connection. Stop this, stop acting like a teenager. You’re a grown-up.
“There’s a PlayStation there, if the boys want to play some games. I can turn it on so we can chat.”
I nodded. “That’ll be fun for them. We have a computer, but it’s shared.”
“Any time they want to play, just let me know. They’re welcome to use it.”
How much more perfect could he be?
“Thanks.”
I went back to the boys, handing them their glasses. “Be careful you two. Don’t spill anything.”
They sipped at their juice, nibbling at the cookies.
"They're so good, Mum. We're awesome cooks," Jack said, grinning at his brother.
"You are fantastic cooks. Now to teach you to cook dinner" They giggled as I smiled at them.
Logan came in moments later, placing two cups of coffee on the table.
“Where are all your things?” Jack asked.
“Jack. Don’t be so rude.” My face was
heating up.
Logan laughed. “It’s fine. Most of my things are in storage. I’m just living here while I renovate my house. I bought an old place to do up. It’s where I spend a lot of time on the weekends. It’s happening slowly, because it’s a part-time project, but I’m getting there.”
“We used to have a house,” Jack said, his lips downturned. “It was cool.”
That stabbed me right in the chest. I knew he missed the place, I did too, but to hear him say that hurt more than I’d thought it would.
“Well, bud, I think your mum is doing a pretty good job keeping a roof over your heads. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Logan winked at me. “Now, how about I turn that PlayStation on. There are a few games that are probably a bit too grown-up for you, but I think I’ve got a Lego one here.”
Jack’s eyes widened. “Awesome.”
I watched as the three of them sorted out controllers and started the game. Pretty soon the boys were ripping into it, bashing Lego blocks as they went, squealing and laughing, and my heart grew still again. That was, until Logan joined me back on the couch.
“At least I can’t fall on you, sitting here quietly.” He grinned, and took a sip of his coffee.
I laughed, shaking my head as I met his eyes.
“I mean, unless you want me to. But your children are right there.”
Rolling my eyes, I took a drink and turned my attention to the boys. They were bouncing around as their characters onscreen broke up the blocks, so full of energy and fun. This whole experience had brought us so close together.
“Your friend is pretty full on.”
I glanced back at Logan. He cocked his head, looking at me curiously.
“I was really lucky to find her. All this happened after I started working for her, and she has been amazing. But yeah, she’s a lot to get used to.”
He nodded. “She’s looking out for you.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.” For a variety of reasons.
An unwanted thought hit me. What if he’s interested in her? Time to test the water.
“She’s single, if you’re interested.” There. I said it. Not that I wanted a positive answer.
His eyes darted from me to the boys and back again. “I’m sure she’s great, but I am looking for someone a bit more quiet, someone who is just happy to snuggle on the couch. I get the feeling that any guy who took her on would end up naked and tied up somewhere.”
I laughed so hard that I snorted, and I held my hand over my nose, blushing at the sound. He just grinned and shook his head.
“Mum, check this out,” Jack said as he built some great Lego structure and then blew it up to beat the bad guys.
“Those two are awesome,” Logan said quietly.
“Very much so.” I ran my finger around the rim of the coffee cup, looking at the brown milky liquid.
“I meant what I said. Any time I’m at home they’re welcome to come and play like this. I have the odd night when I relax and play PlayStation, but I’m usually working or at the house.”
I looked up. He was so kind, it was unbelievable. “Thanks. What do you do for a job?”
He nodded. “I’m a mechanic. I own a garage over on Beach Road.”
Business owner with his own house. “Nice. So …” I took a sip of coffee and swallowed, smiling sweetly. “How old are you?”
Logan laughed. “All these questions. Are you interested, Ms Grant?”
Retreat, retreat, retreat.
“I was just curious. Your own business, and you own a house. You look like you’re around the same age as me, and I know what a struggle it was to buy our place.”
“I’m twenty-three. The business was my father’s. A friend of the family ran it until I was old enough to take it over, but I’ve worked there since I left school. And for the record, the house was really cheap because of the work that needed doing to it. Most of the structural stuff is done, and now I’m working on the tidying up and then the interior. Does that answer your questions?”
I nodded. “Most satisfactorily.”
There was that grin again. The one that made me want to abandon my self-respect and pounce. I’d never had that feeling with anyone before, or if I had it was so long ago, before I’d had to grow up.
“So how far apart in age are we? I mean, I’m guessing you’re older, having had Jack, but are we talking cougar or what?” he asked.
I nearly spat my coffee out. “Ha ha. I’m nearly twenty-six.”
“Oh, damn. I thought I was onto something there.”
Slapping his arm with my palm, I shook my head at him. I’d never been that good at making friends; Donna and now Rebecca were the exception. But Logan made me feel so comfortable. It was weird and good.
“So, what do you do?” he asked.
“I work in administration. Mostly accounting, and, well, anything else my boss needs doing.”
“And you used to have a house?”
I sighed. “Yeah. I had to let it go when it became just me. I tried to make it work …” I didn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Giving it up was too raw after all I’d done to buy it.
“I’m glad you guys moved in. You’ve definitely brought some fun to this place, and you’ve only been here five minutes.” Logan punched my arm, gently.
“The boys have been telling me how much they loved the trip to the park.”
His gaze was intense. “Just the boys?” he asked.
I looked back down at the coffee. “Maybe me too.”
Chapter Twelve
That night I dreamed of him for the first time.
Maybe it was the way he’d intervened when Evan had turned up. Maybe it was his kindness and gentleness that made me melt. Maybe it was the way my boys had grown so attached so fast, and he never had a harsh word to say to them, even when they must have been a pain in the butt.
But that wasn’t what I dreamed of.
I dreamed of him, holding me in his arms, kissing me as if his life depended on it, touching me.
His hand stroked my bare skin, fingers dancing over the exposed flesh. He was only one of two men to ever see me this way, and yet I knew he saw so much more than I had on display.
He grazed his lips down my neck, kneading my breast as I gasped for air. His touch woke something in me that had been dormant, awoken briefly the night before Evan left me, but sleeping for so long before that.
My body tingled in the morning, an after-effect of the vivid dream I’d had. I slowly opened my eyes, half expecting him to be there, lying beside me. Rolling over, I’d been disappointed to find that I was alone in a cold bed.
I yawned, and closed my eyes for just a few more minutes, hoping to extend my dream. Instead, the alarm blared and I reluctantly climbed out of bed.
All day I thought about my dream, smiling to myself, my workload just that little bit easier to deal with as memories of how my body had reacted to Logan’s imaginary touch drifted to the surface.
I stopped for fish and chips on the way home, eager to start my new story. This time I had the most amazing source material. I wanted to write what I’d dreamed, the way Logan’s hands made me feel, the way his kisses burned on my skin.
I’d felt as if I’d been forcing it all this time, trying to create passion but never truly feeling it. Now? Now I ached to write down every emotion, ever reaction my body had. Even if it was just a dream.
Nearly everything I’d written had come from reading, studying the Internet for graphic descriptions of how people touched each other. I’d experienced some of it myself, but Evan was selfish, from what I could tell now, always putting himself first. From what I’d read, I’d missed out on a lot.
I sat at the keyboard, wondering if I dare ask Logan for details. What he did to make a woman feel special. Holy shit. Why did I think he was any different to Evan?
Because he just was.
He was sweet and caring, a gentleman. He’d be the type to give you fifty orgasms before worrying abo
ut his own needs. Okay, maybe that was a slight exaggeration. All I knew was that when he was close my heart beat faster, and my sweat glands went into overload.
Too much information, Olivia.
I laughed out loud at the thought of using that in one of my stories. Who wants a sweaty heroine?
And then I began to write.
* * *
“Are we keeping you awake?” Rebecca asked on Monday morning
I was on my third coffee for the morning and it was only 9.30.
“I was inspired last night, stayed up late writing. In fact, I wrote most of the weekend.”
She nodded. “That would do it. Just don’t overdo the coffee or you’ll never get any sleep tonight either.”
“That's not a bad thing, I have more I want to get out. It’s just pouring from me right now.”
She started chewing on her lip.
“Rebecca, you don’t have to worry about my work. I think you’ll find it’s still up to my usual standard. I’m just a little tired.”
Rebecca sighed. “I’m not concerned about your work. I know you well enough already to know that. I just don’t want to see you stretch yourself too far. You’ve got a lot on your plate with everything that’s happened. And Olivia, you’re my friend. I don’t want to see you wear yourself out.”
That meant so much, after what I’d been through. She'd helped me with so much and just kept on giving. I'd never be able to repay her.
“Thanks, Rebecca.”
“I want what you’ve written so I can check it out. I need something to keep me company at night.”
Shaking my head, I laughed as she left the room. She’d been such a godsend to me, just when I needed her. I’d take better care of myself.
I emailed it to her when I got home that night. I’d managed to get a lot written after our little visit to Logan, and as I reread it, I felt every emotion, remembered every lustful thought.
After dinner, I tucked in the boys and got back to the laptop to write.
A sudden shrill noise made me jump, and it took me a second to work out the phone was ringing. I rubbed my forehead, and wiped the drool off the laptop where I’d fallen asleep.
Something Real Page 8
