“Of course I like waffles,” she said, feeling foolish.
“Good.” Julie’s pick-me-up-now cry blared over the baby monitor, causing Claire to instinctively begin rising from the bed.
Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me get her. You get dressed and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
When Logan was gone, Claire got dressed in autopilot mode, her thoughts preoccupied by wondering what on earth Logan wanted to talk to her about. Probably something bad, she decided, since he’d made her waffles. She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on a bit of blush and lip gloss and headed off to the kitchen. Her stomach was a ball of tangled, uneasy nerves.
Logan, on the other hand, looked completely calm and self-assured, not to mention sexy, as he cuddled Julie in one arm and set a carton of orange juice on the table with the other. It was a scene that struck a chord in her. Logan, barefoot in her kitchen, serving a Saturday morning breakfast with Julie in his arms. God, she loved him. She wanted to spend every morning like this, the three of them together. She wanted to be free to love him.
“Mommy’s a bit of a slowpoke, but she’s finally here,” Logan confided to their daughter as Claire entered the kitchen. He looked up, giving her a seductive smile that matched the heat in his eyes.
“You’re going to spoil her,” Claire pointed out softly. Of course, she too carried their daughter around all day long, but she needed something to say. She couldn’t just blurt out the words I love you.
Logan raised a brow. “You expect me to believe that you don’t carry her around all day?”
She frowned at him. Okay, so he knew her well. “No comment,” she grumbled, sitting at the table.
He used his free hand to open the aluminum foil covering a heaping plate in the center of the table. Steam and the incredible aroma of fresh waffles rose into the air. Claire skewered one on her fork and dropped it onto her plate, smothering it in dark syrup. Logan sat across from her, Julie still in his arms, watching her with an intensity she found startling.
“I like being with you in the morning,” he murmured. “This feels good. It feels right.”
The bite of waffle en route to Claire’s mouth paused, midair. “What are you saying, Logan?” She knew him well enough to realize that there was something more to his words, a hidden meaning she had to unravel.
“I mean that I love being with the two of you.” He paused, his dark gaze boring into hers. “I want us to be together all the time, as a family.”
“Logan,” she began, about to remind him of all the reasons why he didn’t need to feel obligated to give their daughter married parents.
“I love you.”
Her fork clattered noisily on her plate, sending a thin spurt of syrup onto the table. “What?”
“I know it’s too soon and that you don’t feel the same way,” he said in a rush, looking suddenly very unlike his normal smooth, unflappable self. “But I had to tell you. I can’t take any more of this seeing you and Julie for a few hours every night. I want to wake up with you, go to sleep with you. I want to be here when she cries in the middle of the night because she’s hungry. I want to be the man in your life, now and forever.”
“Logan, I—”
“Don’t say anything yet,” he interrupted. “Just hear me out before you turn me down. I’ll take good care of both of you. We can live here if you want, or anywhere else. I realize I’m asking for a great deal, but if you just give me a chance, I promise you’ll never regret it.” He paused. “Marry me.”
It was the proposal she’d been waiting for, the words she’d been waiting to hear, but yet she needed to be certain.
“Are you sure that this isn’t just about wanting to take care of us, Logan?”
“It’s about loving you, both of you.” His gaze darkened. “I can’t live this half-life with you anymore. I want everything or nothing.” Logan took a deep breath when she remained silent. “Take all the time you need to think about it. I don’t need an answer right now.”
“I don’t need time to think about it,” she said instantly. The expression on his face became wary, strained. “Yes.”
“Yes?”
A smile curved her lips. “Yes, a thousand times. I’ll marry you.” Before she was even aware that she was moving, she was in Logan’s embrace, Julie between them.
He kissed her swiftly. “Thank God.”
“I love you, Logan,” she murmured, feeling an immeasurable sense of relief to say the words to him at last.
“You don’t have to pretend, sweetheart. It’s enough that you’ve agreed to be my wife.” Logan’s face was an impassive mask as he looked down at her.
“I’m not pretending.” She reached up to caress his jaw, enjoying the prickly five o’clock shadow against her fingertips. “I love you and I’ve loved you for so long. I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t think you loved me.”
His mouth descended on hers in a fiercely possessive kiss. It was a kiss that gave and took, a kiss that promised more. After so much pain and uncertainty for so long, knowing that Logan returned her feelings was pure heaven. She was almost too afraid to believe that it was real.
It seemed as if Logan read her thoughts. He broke the kiss to look down at her, searching her gaze. “Is this real?”
“It’s real,” she assured him, blinking to keep the tears from filling her eyes. Apparently her days of being a walking water fountain hadn’t stopped when she’d given birth to Julie.
“Tell me again,” he growled against her lips.
“I love you,” she obliged, grinning like a lunatic and unable to help herself. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”
“And I love you,” he said softly, pulling her closer against him. “How soon can we get married?”
She laughed. “In a hurry?”
He gave her a wry grin. “I’d rather not give you enough time to come to your senses and change your mind.”
Claire sensed that his self-deprecating tone was serious. “Logan, I’m never going to change my mind. You are a wonderful man and I love you for everything you are. I love that you were a foster kid who had nothing and built his own successful company from the ground up. I love the way you make me feel just by looking at me. I love how much you love our daughter and how good a father you are. In fact, there is nothing about you that I don’t love.”
“Hell.” Logan rested his forehead against hers. “If you don’t stop, we’ll end up on the table and I’d really rather not have Julie for an audience.”
“I’m just trying to drum into your thick skull that I love you.” She feathered her lips across his.
He groaned. “Mission accomplished. Now eat your waffles.”
Logan was nervous as hell.
He readjusted his tux for what must have been the eight hundredth time. In a matter of seconds, Claire would be walking toward him. They were about to get married. He could hardly believe it, even a month after his proposal. They had been living in a fantasy world. She and Julie had moved into his house and Derek had moved into an apartment for the time being. Logan had never been so happy in his life. Hell, he’d never expected to be this happy, had never known happiness of this magnitude existed.
He stood in the lobby of the hotel he and Claire had stayed at on their weeklong trip. It was decorated with a shitload of flowers, all white and purple, and candles were burning at the windowsills. His soon-to-be in-laws were seated before him, along with Trevor who was doing double duty taking care of Rafe and Julie. To Logan’s left stood Derek. Jamie, Claire’s crazy, ditzy personal assistant, was currently walking down the aisle toward him, sniffling into her bouquet. Sophie came next, beaming mistily. Finally, the quartet struck up the wedding tune and Claire was walking toward him, ethereally beautiful in a simple cream-colored gown.
She met his gaze and smiled and his nerves died down. The world faded away until all he could see was Claire, gorgeous and grinning and coming straight for him. When she reached him, he couldn’t h
elp it. He grabbed her around the waist, pulled her to him and planted one on her. She sighed breathily. Derek snickered behind him, reminding him that there was business to get down to.
The ceremony seemed to last forever. All Logan wanted to do was get Claire alone in their honeymoon suite so that he could strip the dress off her and make love to her until they were both too tired to move. Finally, it was over and they were walking together, hand in hand, man and wife.
Family and friends descended on them with congratulations and Logan put in a discreet request to his new sister-in-law to look after Julie for a little while. Sophie winked and said Julie could keep company with Rafe of the Seven Seas. Logan thanked her, biting his tongue to keep from telling her what a ridiculous nickname that was for a baby.
Cutting his way through the small throng of well-wishers, Logan reached Claire, planting his hands on her slim waist. He bent his head and breathed deeply, enjoying the sweet scent of vanilla as it teased his senses. Maybe today would be the day to make good on his promise to lick her from head to toe and see if she tasted as good as she smelled, he decided. “I’d like to borrow you for a little while, wife,” he whispered in her ear.
She turned to him, love twinkling in her large, beautiful blue eyes. “What do you need with me, husband?”
He cleared his throat, trying to maintain a serious expression. “I have a matter that requires your attention.”
“Ah.” She raised a brow. “What is this matter?”
A grin crept over his lips, He couldn’t help it. “It’s upstairs.” He jerked his head toward the staircase. “Follow me.”
They made it to the second floor in seconds, equally eager to be alone. The keys jingled in Logan’s hand the whole way. When they reached the door to the honeymoon suite, Logan picked her up in his arms with ease. She gave a small shriek of surprise.
“Logan.” She feigned protest, but he could see that she was enjoying herself. “Put me down.”
“Uh-uh.” He rattled the keys in his hand and shifted so that he could unlock the door. “It’s tradition for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold.”
She smiled and kissed him softly. “Well, if it’s tradition, I guess it’s okay.”
He unlocked the door and threw it open, kissing her hungrily as he stepped inside. “I love you, sweetheart,” he murmured against her mouth. “You’ve made me incredibly happy.”
Her hands were tangled in his hair, but she removed one long enough to caress his jaw. Heat soared through him at her soft touch.
“You made me happier than I thought it was possible to be,” she told him.
He tossed her onto the bed. “Let’s see if I can’t make you even happier,” he suggested wickedly.
Claire opened her arms to him. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
Read on for an excerpt of Book 3 in the Love’s Second Chance series, Win My Love, available now.
Win My Love
Love’s Second Chance Book 3
Wynne Carter’s one-night-stand with Hollywood bad boy Derek Shaw resulted in life-changing consequences in the form of her precious daughter. Years later, she isn’t prepared to face him or his questions when he returns to her small town seeking answers.
With his acting career on hiatus thanks to his wild past, discovering he has a daughter is reason enough for Derek to stick around. Spending timing with her mom isn’t too shabby either, and soon he can’t keep Wynne or her long legs off his mind.
Wynne knows a man like Derek is made for sin, not happily-ever-afters, but resisting him proves pretty darn impossible. For a while, it looks as if the unlikely pairing of the single mom and the heartthrob might make it after all. Until Hollywood wants its leading man back, and their new relationship threatens to fall apart forever.
His best friend’s wedding started in half an hour, and the flowers were late.
Derek wanted everything to go well for Logan and Claire. It was their day, and he’d be damned if he’d let something as stupid as flowers ruin it for them. Which was why he was jogging down a little street in Atlantic, Maryland, in the middle of winter, looking for a flower shop.
He wasn’t certain of its precise location, but he was on a mission to find the flowers or else. Minutes before, Claire’s matron of honor had appeared in Logan’s room at the hotel, out of breath and flustered, asking if anyone had seen the bouquets. They’d been ordered at a local florist, she’d explained, and could Derek please go to the shop and see what the delay was? It was just down the street somewhere. Somewhere being the operative word.
Derek was familiar enough with the quaint historic town. He’d filmed a rom-com there several years before and had liked it so much that he and Logan had returned for yearly get-togethers. A convenient meeting place out of the public’s ever-growing gaze, Atlantic presented a way for them to shed their busy lives and a way for Derek to escape the flashbulbs. But they didn’t exactly spend their time hanging out with the local florist.
Just when he was about to give up and go back to the hotel without the flowers, Derek spotted a two-story Victorian tucked into a corner with a black sign outside that read Wynne’s Flowers. He ducked inside the shop to the music of twin bells tinkling overhead. Warm air hit his frozen face. Small and cozy, the place had intricate floral arrangements on display and a walk-in refrigerated case to the left. A bunch of bouquets inside a box on the counter attracted his attention.
Feeling like an intruder for walking into the seemingly abandoned shop, he headed for the silver bell by the cash register. He tapped it three times, the noise echoing in the silence.
“Hello? Anybody here?”
He heard a muffled noise overhead, then the distinctive sound of a female voice.
“Hello?” He walked to the back room where a narrow staircase presumably led to the second floor. “Excuse me?”
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” The voice trickled down to him again, this time harried and irritated.
Derek saw the shoes first, black and narrow with high, spiky heels. Then, the ankles that belonged to lean calves and mouthwatering thighs. He decided the owner of the beautiful legs couldn’t possibly be as gorgeous—life just didn’t work out that way unless you were in an LA club surrounded by tucked, nipped, injected, and buffed Hollywood socialites. She probably had a mustache and looked like a man.
As more of her thighs came into view, he wondered if she was even wearing clothing until the hemline of a black dress finally appeared, followed by a curved waist and a set of truly impressive breasts.
And just like that, she appeared as a whole woman rather than a collection of parts. Derek lost his breath for a minute, an odd reaction since he’d seen many beautiful women before. Hollywood teemed with some of the most alluring women in the world. So why did he feel as if he’d been punched in the gut?
She didn’t have a mustache after all. No doubt about it, she was incredibly hot, though in an unconventional way, from her curly red hair to her lush lips. She was also looking at him with what was, undeniably, horror. Derek was accustomed to any number of reactions when people recognized him, but horror had never been one of them. Until now. She stopped dead, watching him with wide green eyes.
His reason for coming to her shop in the first place returned to him like a kick in the ass. He stepped forward. “I’m here to pick up the flowers for the Monroe wedding.”
She crossed her arms over her chest in a defensive gesture and glared at him. “I was on my way to deliver them.”
Not exactly going to win a personality award any time soon, was she? It figured. “I can save you the trip.” He pointed to the roses on the counter. “Are those the ones?”
“Yes,” she snapped. “Take them and go, then.”
Derek backtracked into the shop, aware time ticked, but somehow reluctant to leave. There was something oddly familiar about her.
“Have we met before?” He glanced back at her, still curious about her reaction to him. If they had met during filming, tha
t would explain it. He’d been a different man before rehab. God knew he’d been wasted three-quarters of the time back then.
She had begun following him into the shop but stopped in her tracks. “No. Of course we haven’t.”
Somehow, her words lacked the vehemence of truth. He studied her. “Are you sure we didn’t meet before? You seem familiar.”
“We never met.” She gave him a tight smile. “Would you like me to drive the flowers to the hotel?”
It was a veiled get lost if he’d ever heard one. Derek picked up the flowers and was about to leave when a child’s voice stopped him.
“Mama?”
A little girl in a pink-tulle princess dress clomped into the room wearing plastic shoes with glittery purple heels that looked two sizes too big. He judged her to be about four years old. When she looked up at him from beneath a mop of blonde ringlets, something happened inside him. He felt as if he were the Grinch facing Cindy Lou Who. Blue eyes as vivid as his stared back at him, and the same sense of familiarity hit him.
He’d never been around kids much, never wanted to bother. With his lifestyle, there’d been no room or time. But there was something about this cute kid in her dress-up finery that reminded him of what he’d been missing in his endless quest for the next party.
“You’re all dressed up nice.” She wrinkled her nose. “Wanna be my prince?”
“Paige, why don’t you go back upstairs?” The woman’s tone was stern as she took the girl by the shoulders and spun her around as if Derek had the bubonic plague.
“But Mama—”
“No buts,” ordered her mother. “Upstairs. Now.”
As Paige disappeared into the back room, the woman turned to him. “I wasn’t expecting to have my daughter today. She’s the reason I was late with the flowers. Could you please express my apologies to the bride and groom?”
“Yes.” Derek nodded. A niggling sensation still ate away at him. There was something he was missing. But what?
Perfect Persuasion (Love's Second Chance Book 2) Page 27
