Concern coursed through him—a cold, icy feeling that he had felt rarely in his life and never with the power he felt it now. He forced his voice to stay steady. “What happened?”
She sniffed and climbed up into the truck. “I hate dance.”
Oh…shit. She definitely did not hate dance.
He shifted on his seat, resting his arm along the back of the seat, still working to keep his posture and expression calm. “Tell me what happened.”
She took a deep breath. “I hate Jada.”
Ah, okay, well at least that was more specific. Logan gripped the steering wheel with one hand. “What did Jada do?”
“She told everyone that your hairstyle doesn’t matter because you’re not a real dad,” Chloe told him, staring at the dash of the truck instead of looking at him. “And when I told her that you were going to be my baby brother’s dad, she said it didn’t count, and then she said that my brother and I wouldn’t be real brother and sister because we have different dads and wouldn’t have the same last name.”
Logan’s heart was pounding and his body felt completely cold as Chloe looked over at him, her expression completely forlorn.
“I want my brother to be my real brother and I want to have the same last name,” she said.
Logan swallowed hard. “The baby will absolutely be your real brother,” he said evenly. “Or sister,” he felt compelled to add.
“What about our last name?” Chloe almost whispered.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. He made himself breathe deep. He couldn’t tell her that they definitely would share a last name. That was something he and Dana needed to figure out, he supposed. But he was fighting the urge to declare that these girls were his in every possible way, and they would absolutely have his last name. Tomorrow. And that if Dana wouldn’t marry him, then he’d adopt them anyway and… He was going a little crazy, obviously. But damn, the urge to make everything okay, to protect and claim these girls, was causing a physical knot in his gut.
“It doesn’t matter what your last name is,” he said, finally. His voice sounded like he was pushing it past sandpaper. And he wasn’t sure he sounded convincing. Because he wasn’t convinced. It did matter. He wanted them to be his. All of them.
“But kids have their dad’s last names, right?” Grace asked from the back seat. “If we don’t have the same name, how will people know you’re our dad too?”
Logan felt like she’d just punched him in the heart. The organ gave a weak thump that hurt.
“Jada said you’re not our dad,” Chloe said. “And that you’re only helping with dance because you’re having a baby with our mom and that you don’t really care about dance.”
Logan squeezed the steering wheel and blew out a quick breath. “Chloe, look at me.”
She was turned in his direction, but wasn’t meeting his gaze. Instead, she was staring at the front of his T-shirt. Her eyes lifted slowly. When their eyes met, he said, “I promise that I care about dance. Because I care about you. And I do want to be your dad. I really do. I want you to have my last name. But whatever happens, I love you. And I will be here to help you with things. And the baby will be your real brother or sister. Jada is wrong about all of that.” He looked up into the rearview mirror. “Grace?”
“Yeah?”
“I mean all of that for you too,” he said, his voice steady and sure, his chest hurting with how much he wanted to make everything perfect for these two little people. “I love you and I’ll be here for you and the baby is your real brother or sister too.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “So I can have your last name?”
Jesus. Yes. That was all he could think of for a moment. Then he said, “Your mom and I would have to get married to make that happen.”
“Why don’t you want to get married to Mommy?” Grace asked.
And that was when it occurred to him that he might be in over his head here…and he was going to get in trouble. But that didn’t stop him from saying, “I do want to marry your mom.”
“Did you ask her?” Chloe wanted to know.
He looked at the older girl. Yeah, he’d already messed this up. This was exactly the kind of conversation that he should not be having with the girls without Dana there. Or on board. Or even aware of it.
But dammit, whatever happened, he wanted these girls to know that they were wanted. By him. Completely. He loved them and they could depend on him. There was nothing wrong with telling them that. “Yes,” he finally said. “I did.”
Grace’s eyes got huge and she clasped her hands together under her chin, her expression the same she’d had on her face when she’d first seen the sarcophagi at Muriel’s. “We get to have a wedding!”
So…yeah, Dana was going to have his hide.
“Soon?” Chloe asked.
He focused on her again. “I don’t know.” He was, of course, going to do whatever he could to get Dana to say yes. Soon. And he thought he was closer to a yes now than he had been when he’d first asked her. But…they hadn’t talked about it again.
“Can you ask her when tonight?” Chloe asked. “I want to tell Jada she’s wrong.” She frowned at that.
Logan wanted to tell Jada she was wrong too. In front of all the girls. Just like she’d done to Chloe. But, of course, Jada had gotten all of this from Tiffany. No way had the ten-year-old come up with all of that on her own. Likely she’d overheard Tiffany talking to the other moms about why Logan shouldn’t be so involved.
Well, that was going to stop right now. She thought he was involved because he’d been doing hair? She hadn’t seen anything yet.
“You know what?” he asked, turning off the ignition and unbuckling his seat belt. “I think we should go talk to Jada right now.”
“Right now?” Chloe asked, her eyes widening.
“I think maybe it would help if I told her she was wrong,” he said, opening his door. “Unbuckle, Grace. We’re going inside.”
Grace scrambled to unhook the belt on her booster seat, while Chloe tucked her backpack down on the floor by her feet. They were both out of the truck by the time he rounded the bumper and hit the sidewalk. He took one little girl hand in each of his and headed for the front doors. The adrenaline was pumping as they climbed the steps. He was going to have to use his nice words, he knew, but damn he wanted to call Tiffany Custer out. He knew women like her. The ones that made others feel small so that she could feel big. He didn’t know what her deal was with him, but he didn’t fucking care. She just needed to stop bringing this into the girls’ consciousness. He would not have Chloe hating dance. And he was done staying out in the truck while sending Chloe in by herself.
They stepped into the gymnasium a minute later. Rehearsal was over, but it seemed that everyone else was still there, girls and moms. The teacher was up on the stage with three girls, but the rest were in two clusters. The one that had Jada Custer at the center and the one that didn’t.
Logan headed for Jada.
“Hey, girls,” he said, easily, shutting the entire group up instantaneously. Nine pairs of eyes looked up at him and got round. “Sorry I missed practice tonight,” he said, giving them a grin that worked on females from four to ninety and had his whole life. “How are things coming along?”
“Good,” one of the girls, Sarah, said.
“Yeah, good,” another, Lanie, said.
He nodded. “I’ll bet. You guys are a good team. I can’t wait to see you at the competition. And I’ve decided that I’m going to put together a set of pump-up songs for you. You know what that is?”
A couple of the girls nodded and a couple shook their heads. “Well, when I was playing football and basketball in high school, I always put together a list of songs that got me excited and focused on the game to listen to while I was riding to the game and in the locker room. It pumped me up for the competition. I’m going to make a disc for you girls. You can each have a copy to listen to on the way to the competition or while you’re waiting to go on. So all I ne
ed is to know your favorite songs. The ones that make you happy, that make you want to dance. You can tell Chloe and she’ll tell me. Or you can come up to me at rehearsal.” He looked at each of them, focusing on Jada last. “I’ll be here.”
“Dads don’t really do stuff with dance,” Jada said. “But my mom could make us discs.”
“Nah,” he said. “I really want to do it. Chloe’s just really lucky to have a mom and dad who care about dance, I guess.”
Emphasis on him being a dad? Check. Dig at the other dads? Check.
Jada looked at Chloe, then back to him. “Are you really her dad?” she asked.
Without knowing what Jada had said to Chloe earlier, he might think that she was actually asking an innocent question. It seemed like something a ten-year-old might be legitimately curious about. But he did know what she’d said. “Yes,” he said firmly. “I am now.”
For a second, Jada had a yeah, right look on her face, but she covered it. “My mom said that you’re not married to her mom.”
“I’m not. Yet. But you don’t have to worry. I’ll still be around here and be able to do hair and make those song discs and just generally be a lot of fun to have around.” He gave her a smile that he didn’t think a little girl would be able to tell was completely forced. And then he went too far. “So even if your dad isn’t at the competition, I’ll be there cheering extra loud for all of you. Because you’re a team and we don’t worry about silly things like what people’s last names are and who comes up with the great ideas.”
Except that obviously he was worried about both of those things. And taking on a ten-year-old over it.
“What is going on over here?”
But there was the female he most wanted to talk to about all of this. He turned. “Hi, Tiffany.”
“Logan, isn’t it?”
She fucking knew his name. He didn’t bother to force a smile with her. “Yep. I’m here with Chloe.”
“You’re her mom’s boyfriend, right?”
“Fiancé,” he said. Because he was already in deep here, so why not? “And the hair guy and the guy who’s in charge of the pump-up songs and the guy who’s been helping out around here quite a bit because you working moms need someone who can pitch in, right?”
Why the hell did this woman have a problem with him? He was helping. Not just Dana and Chloe. He’d done a juice run the other night. He’d brought cookies another night. Best chocolate chip cookies in the state made by his own mother, thank you very much. He’d assured the painfully shy Hannah she was doing a great job. He’d noticed something was off with Lauren and had gotten her off the stage just as she was having an asthma attack. He had called her mom and let her walk him through the inhaler thing and kept Lauren calm waiting for her dad to show up to get her. And, dammit, he’d come up with a hairstyle that would work for all the hair types, including Abby, who had a birthmark on the base of her head that she wanted to cover up.
“Right. You’re a bartender. I guess that means you have a lot of free time?”
He laughed. “In New Orleans? I don’t think many people work more or harder than restaurant and bar staff around here.” Then he gave her a look. “And I own that bar with my brother. So, you know, there’s a little more to it than pouring beer.”
Tiffany—Dr. Tiffany to be exact—crossed her arms. “Yeah, I guess you probably pour wine and vodka too.”
He nodded, refusing to let her get to him. He dealt with worse than her—and kept his sense of humor and charming disposition, thank you—on a weekly basis. Of course, none of the drunk frat guys or crazy tourists were making Chloe feel badly. It was a lot harder to laugh things off with Tiffany. “A bit of bourbon and even a margarita here and there too.”
She didn’t look impressed. He felt the same way. And fuck her. He didn’t care what she thought or said about his job or his bar. But he did fucking care what she said about, or to, Chloe.
“Well, you don’t have to worry about being around and helping at the competition. We’ve got things covered.”
“Oh, I’m not worried. Not even a little. I can’t wait to see all the girls looking stunning and kicking butt.” He shot the little group a smile and had several returned.
“What I meant was, that since you’re not officially a dad of any of the girls, you won’t be allowed back in the prep area anyway, so you don’t need to worry about getting off work.”
He narrowed his eyes, turning his back on the girls enough so that none of them would notice. “Oh, I’ll be there. Chloe’s my girl. No one will keep me away.”
Tiffany gave him a bored look. “Well, the team will have a list of parents who are allowed in the prep and staging area.”
“Great. I’ll be sure Mrs. Morgan is spelling my name right.” He started to move to walk toward the dance director. To his shock, Tiffany put a hand on his chest, stopping him. He looked down at it, then back up at her.
“I think we’re covered,” Tiffany told him.
“Really? By the moms who haven’t been here for ninety percent of the rehearsals?” he asked.
“You don’t actually think that we can’t step in and take care of things without being here every night?” she asked. “I mean, we’ve all been doing this for five years. You just got here. And we need to know that people will show up for sure.”
“Why wouldn’t I show up?” he asked, knowing she thought she knew a reason.
Tiffany shrugged, dropping her hand. “Well, I mean, you’re a boyfriend.”
“Fiancé,” he said, through gritted teeth.
“Okay,” she said placatingly. “Still not really…committed to…things.” She gave him a small smile. “And what if you have a bar emergency or something and can’t make it? It’s probably best for us to rely on the real parents to be there.”
He stepped closer to her, leaned in, and said lowly, “Lady, just because your husband can’t be counted on, doesn’t mean that Dana and Chloe are in that same boat. And if your husband is going to do something for this team, I’d suggest he take you to bed and give you an orgasm or three. Clearly you need something to loosen you up.”
Tiffany actually gasped at that and pulled back. Logan wouldn’t have been surprised if she’d slapped him. And he probably would have deserved it. But damn, he could not let her talk to him that way. She could fuck right off. He was here for Chloe, period. No matter what this uptight, full-of-herself bitch thought.
“Jada, it’s time to go,” Tiffany said, stepping around him.
He nodded. Yeah, it was past time. Jada took her mom’s hand and Tiffany led her out of the gymnasium, her back ramrod straight, her shoes clicking angrily on the hard floor.
“Whoa.”
Logan looked over to see that Amy had joined them. She was watching Tiffany leave. “What was that?”
Logan blew out a breath and shoved a hand through his hair. “That was me not being easygoing.”
“What’s going on?” Amy looked up at him.
“She wants to keep me away from helping with the team at the competition. Well, probably with everything.”
“She’s just jealous, you know,” Amy said. “Her husband never comes to any of their girls’ stuff. He only goes if their son is playing sports.”
“Is he a brain surgeon or something?” Logan asked. “Horrible hours saving lives or something?”
Amy snorted. “He’s a self-employed financial guy. Works at home, sets his own hours. Spends a lot of those hours on the golf course.”
“Bitch,” Logan breathed. “Putting down my bar while her husband is out on the ninth green?”
“She’s got to make herself feel better somehow. It makes her crazy to see a guy who’s not even a dad stepping up the way you are—”
“Don’t say that,” Logan said crossly. He never said anything crossly. “I haven’t signed adoption papers or whatever, but dammit, there are lots of ways to be a dad.”
Amy’s eyes got wide. “Are you going to be signing adoption papers?”
He glanced over at Chloe and Grace. They were holding hands, and Chloe was now talking to the other girls from class since Jada had left. His heart turned over in his chest. He’d made that better. Okay, he’d made a for-sure enemy of Tiffany. And he was going to have to tell Dana about everything, and he had a gut feeling that wasn’t going to go well. But yeah, he’d done something good here. He’d stood up for Chloe and Grace. He’d claimed them. And he didn’t regret a word. He nodded at Amy. “Yeah. I am. Definitely.”
Amy’s eyes got soft. “Wow. That’s amazing. They’ve all been through so much. I’m so glad Dana found you.”
He gave her a small smile. “Thanks. But I’m the lucky one.” And he somehow kept from asking if she’d be willing to write him a recommendation for Dana.
Because yeah, he was going to be in trouble for this.
10
Dana heard the front door open and felt an equal rush of relief and exhaustion. Logan and the girls were here. She knew he’d run out for ginger ale and crackers, but that also meant that she now needed to deal with bedtime for the girls and she, quite frankly, had no energy.
She’d gotten cocky, thinking that maybe she was going to skip the morning sickness this time around. She’d made it through almost three months with nothing.
And now…Mother Nature was making up for lost time.
“Babe?” she heard Logan call up the stairs.
She took a deep breath and started for the staircase. Her stomach roiled and she paused. Man, give me twenty minutes without wanting to hurl. Please.
“Dana?”
“I’m up here,” she called back.
The next thing she heard was the sound of four little feet pounding up the stairs.
“Mommy!” Grace said, skidding to a halt in front of Dana. “We’re going to have a wedding!”
“We…are?” Dana wasn’t sure how to respond. Were they talking about a pretend wedding? Stuffed animals getting hitched? A friend from school? Someone Logan knew? Had he invited the girls along to a family wedding or something?
Taking It Easy: Boys of the Big Easy book two Page 17
