Season of Second Chances

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Season of Second Chances Page 7

by Brighton Walsh


  He kissed her neck, her cheek, her jaw, pulling away to look at her once more. He brushed her hair back, cradling her face in his hands. Her eyes were closed, but even with them shuttered from him, the wetness at the corners told him everything he needed to know. Pulling her back into the cradle of his arms, he rocked her over him as they both slowly found their release, holding her so tightly to himself.

  Holding her like he’d never have to let her go.

  Chapter Eleven

  The knot that had taken up residence in Claire’s stomach for most of the duration of her visit had—miraculously—dissolved during the night. Though, miraculously probably wasn’t entirely accurate. She was pretty sure it was directly related to the three times she and Logan had made love, each time a little more playful than the last.

  When she’d agreed to follow him to his bedroom the night before, had agreed to sleep with him once more, she’d thought it would merely be a goodbye romp. She’d thought she could keep her heart shuttered from everything, even though she already knew how close she was to falling in love with him again. Or still. Hell, she didn’t know anymore.

  But then he’d been so careful with her, so reverent and sweet, and when he’d held her while he moved inside, his voice full of anguish and sorrow as he’d apologized, she’d crumbled. Right there in front of him, every single wall she’d built to protect herself dissolved into a pile of rubble in the face of his whispered words of regret.

  She knew there was more they needed to discuss, issues they still needed to work on, but this was a start. Maybe...maybe this didn’t have to be the end. Maybe it could be their new beginning.

  San Diego had been her home nearly all her life, but with her grandmother gone and her sister in Denver, she knew there was nothing left for her there. She needed to move on, needed to put the house up for sale and find somewhere new to call home. Why not Chicago? Harry, the Vice President in the Chicago offices, had already begged her over lunch last week to move back and accept a position overseeing the Chicago area once again.

  Would Logan be interested in that? Could he see her back here in his life again as easily as she was able to?

  Logan lay next to her on his stomach, and she snuggled farther into his side, tracing the roman numerals denoting Sophie’s birth date tattooed on his upper back. Once upon a time, he’d planned to get their wedding date tattooed directly below it. The thought tripped up her insides, made them somersault over one another.

  It made her long with an ache that shook her to her bones.

  She wanted this...wanted him. They could talk about everything this morning. After Logan put himself out there last night, she could meet him halfway, extend an offer he hopefully wouldn’t be able to say no to.

  * * *

  The tinkle of feminine laughter, along with the relentless bouncing of the mattress pulled Logan from his sleep. He blinked open his eyes and turned his head, finding Claire’s back to him as she faced Sophie, whispered giggles shared between them. If last night hadn’t cemented how perfect this was, how much Claire belonged here with him, this certainly would have.

  With his voice still raspy, he said, “What are my two favorite ladies up to this morning?”

  Sophie popped her head up to look at him over Claire’s shoulder. “Geez, you’re a sleepy head. I’ve been trying to wake you up for hours, Daddy.”

  He chuckled, scooting closer to Claire who was sandwiched in the middle, melding his body to hers. “I doubt that, squirt. With how loud and wiggly you are, you couldn’t have been in here more than five minutes.”

  “He’s got you there, sweetie,” Claire said.

  “Well, it felt like hours. I’m starving. What’s for breakfast?”

  And just like that, Sophie tore out of the room, her feet, clad in bunny slippers, pounding the wood floors, hair flying out behind her. With Sophie in the other room, opening and closing cupboards, he knew he couldn’t start anything with Claire. Still, he couldn’t help from pressing his morning erection against her ass. How his dick was still up for anything after the work out they’d given it last night was beyond him.

  “Morning.” He pressed his lips to the curve of her neck. Sliding a hand up her legs, over her hips, he found his way under the T-shirt she wore. “Good call throwing this on. That might have been awkward.”

  She chuckled, her hand finding his, entwining their fingers together. She still hadn’t said anything, and he wondered if her looming flight was weighing on her as it was him.

  “Hey, you okay?” He put pressure on her hip, telling her without words to roll over. Once she did, he didn’t see sadness in her eyes. Instead, they were bright, her cheeks flushed. But the way she was fidgeting, her fingers tracing all over his body before picking at invisible lint on the sheets, he could tell something was bothering her.

  “Baby? What’s going on?”

  Taking a deep breath, she looked up at him. “It’s nothing really. I was just thinking...” She averted her gaze, her teeth worrying her bottom lip for a moment before she looked up to him again. “I’ve loved being with you again, Logan.”

  He blew out a relieved breath, the weight of a thousand tanks lifting from his chest. “Oh, thank fuck. Jesus, Claire, don’t do that. You scared the shit out of me. I was afraid you were going to tell me to fuck off.”

  She laughed lightly. “No, I won’t tell you to fuck off. But...I did want to ask you something.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Well, here’s the thing. Our company always throws this big New Year’s Eve party. It’s a huge deal—I’m talking nearly a thousand people. They raise money for charity, so all the who’s who of San Diego go to it. Anyway, all the employees don’t have to go, but they’re strongly encouraged to. I usually go by myself, but, well...I didn’t know... You still have frequent flier miles, right? And I know Sophie will be with Brooke over New Year’s, and, well...”

  Logan couldn’t keep the shit-eating grin off his face. After his admission last night, his stilted apology that came—admittedly—two years too late, he was worried how she would react. But this? This he hadn’t expected.

  He couldn’t help teasing her. “Are you trying to ask me something, Claire?”

  Her eyes snapped up to his, and after taking in the smirk on his face, she shoved him in the chest, her cheeks flaming. “Don’t be a jackass, Logan. It doesn’t suit you.”

  “Aw, I’m sorry. You were saying.”

  With a playful glare, she continued. “Yes. Well.” She cleared her throat, her fingers still working the sheet between them. “I’d like you there with me.”

  “That didn’t sound like a question.” He tried to say it with a straight face, but to be perfectly fucking honest, he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face if he tried. Logan had been fighting for a second chance with her, and she was giving it to him on a silver platter.

  “Such a jackass,” she muttered, shaking her head, though a smile tugged at her lips.

  He leaned forward, his hand sliding up the back of her thigh to cup the curve of her ass in those barely-there panties she tortured him with. What was supposed to be a chaste kiss quickly morphed into something else entirely until they were both panting, and his dick was hard enough to pound nails. When he’d reached the point where he needed to stop or he was going to fuck her right then, he pulled away, dropping two small kisses on her lips.

  “I do have frequent flier miles, but even if I didn’t, I’d still be on that plane.”

  “Yeah?” She looked hopeful and expectant and so fucking beautiful.

  “Yeah.”

  “Daddy! I’m starving!” Sophie’s voice carried through the entire condo, and Logan dropped his head to the pillow, his chuckles mixing with Claire’s soft laughter.

  “Coming, squirt,” he yelled and moved to get out of the bed, ogling Claire as she b
ent to pull on a pair of pants.

  Before she got to the door, he grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him. She laughed breathlessly as she fell into his chest, then tilted her head to look up at him. He pushed the hair away from her face, settling his hand on the curve of her shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against the long column of her neck. “We’re really doing this.”

  It wasn’t a question, but he was relieved when she nodded once, then stood on tip-toes to kiss him. “We are. Now let’s go make breakfast before your daughter starves to death.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, smiling as both bossy women shooed him out of the way, relegating him to the breakfast bar. As they readied scrambled eggs and bacon, he grabbed his phone, figuring he could get a start on the day so he’d be able to enjoy the little time he’d have left with Claire later.

  As he navigated to his e-mail, finding nearly a hundred waiting for him, he began to sort through for the most time sensitive issues. When he came to a calendar reminder, his heart stopped.

  “Oh, shit.”

  “Daddy! That’s a buck, mister.” Sophie peeked around the corner, holding out her dainty little hand, completely oblivious to the look of horror on his face.

  By the time Claire stood across the breakfast bar from him, his head was in his hands, and he was cursing himself for his stupidity.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

  When he lifted his head, hers was lowered. Her shoulders stiffened, her jaw clenching, and he knew she noticed the calendar invite open on his phone, the dates glaringly obvious.

  “Claire...”

  And then it was like her reaction had been merely a product of his imagination. When she looked up at him, her eyes were clear, a smile in place. “It’s fine, Logan. It was short notice anyway.”

  He felt relief for half a second until she mumbled something about not letting the bacon burn and turned her back to him. Then the familiar pit settled in his stomach. How he could forget about this meeting, he didn’t know. This had been in the works for three years, but it had completely slipped his mind in the face of Claire’s invitation. He’d jumped on her offer like a virgin on prom night, and didn’t stop to think about any other obligations he had. And, fuck, this was a big obligation. If there was a way for him to get out of it, he would. In a heartbeat.

  Instead, he had to watch as she put on a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. All he wanted was to go back to the early hours of the morning when it was still dark, when she was wrapped up in him, her body taking everything he gave her, her face so peaceful and happy.

  And now, even though she pretended otherwise, he knew this was just another reminder of how he’d fucked up the last time.

  Chapter Twelve

  Claire watched as Logan got Sophie all decked out in her winter gear, and the hard vice that had settled on her heart squeezed tighter.

  God, she was going to miss that little girl.

  “Bye, Claire.”

  “Bye, sweetie,” she said as she squatted to Sophie’s level and enveloped her in a hug. “Have fun meeting your new sister.”

  “I will! Daddy’s going to take me to the gift place in the hospital on the way up and get her a puppy, just like mine.”

  “That’s a great idea. I’m sure she’ll love it.”

  “All right, squirt,” Logan cut in. “Go grab the card you made for your mom so we can go.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth before she took off to her bedroom, leaving Logan and Claire alone—something she hadn’t been prepared for. She needed some space so she could stop and think. God, she needed to think, and she couldn’t do that when he was looking at her with those bottomless eyes, begging her without words to give him another chance.

  He’d already had so, so many chances.

  “Hey,” he said as he grabbed her hand when she stood. “I see those wheels turning. Don’t do that, baby. Don’t. I’ll drop Sophie off and come back to pick you up. We’ll get some lunch and we’ll figure it out, all right? It’ll be okay.”

  Not trusting her voice, she simply nodded and pasted on the smile that had gotten her through the last two hours, praying it worked for another two minutes.

  Sophie tore into the room, waving the bright yellow card in the air. “Got it, let’s go!”

  Her excitement was palpable as she tugged Logan out the front door, throwing another goodbye to Claire as she went. Logan’s eyes caught hers when he stood in the hallway, his arm outstretched as Sophie attempted to tug him forward. Later, he mouthed, and then he was gone.

  Later.

  It was always, always later with Logan.

  She closed the door, resting her forehead against the cool wood as she let her eyelids drift shut. How had everything changed so quickly? Was it only mere hours ago that she was high on happiness and a sense of completion, a sense of rightness? And now, it was just like old times.

  As soon as she’d seen the dates on his phone, she’d known exactly what it meant. That he couldn’t be where she’d asked him to be. That he wouldn’t be. Even though it was a last minute invitation, it didn’t matter. She could’ve given him three months notice and it would’ve ended the same way. This was just a glaring reminder of every other time she’d been left alone and waiting. The cold dinners and the missed parties and the Saturday nights alone in the condo rather than out on a date.

  And the worst part about it was how similar this situation was to when she’d had enough. When she’d finally cracked, yelling and crying and feeling utterly worthless with the one man who was supposed to make her feel worthy of everything. True, it had been a birthday party, not a New Year’s Eve party, and granted, wanting her fiancé to be with her at her grandmother’s last birthday was something altogether more important than a yearly work holiday party, but it all came back to the fact that she was always always always going to come in behind his job.

  And fuck her, but she’d fallen in the same trap once again. She was disgusted with herself, with her utter stupidity. She’d been wearing rose-colored glasses the entire time she’d been here, caught up in Logan and all his charm. In the what-if of their rekindled romance. The one thing she’d been worried about—that they hadn’t had to deal with the root of the majority of their problems, the pressures and responsibilities of Logan’s job—had bit her right in the ass.

  She didn’t know what the meeting was for, but did it really matter? It was always something with him, and if it wasn’t this it would be something else. Could she really stick around and hear his excuses? She’d heard his “I’m sorry, babys” and his “maybe next times” and his “if I could get out of it I woulds.” And she was done. Done listening to his pleas and his begging and his bargaining. When she’d made the decision—the hardest decision of her life—to call off her engagement, she’d promised herself she’d never again allow herself to be put on the back burner for a man.

  And that counted double for the same man.

  With shaky hands and a sense of resolve, she grabbed her phone, looking up the number to the airline and praying they could work wonders for her. As she waited to talk to a real person, she headed into the bedroom and grabbed her carry-on before darting to the bathroom to gather her toiletries. She’d go to a hotel if she had to, but she couldn’t stay here any longer.

  When all her things had been packed and she’d hung up the phone, she called a cab company. Though she hadn’t secured a definite flight, she was on stand-by for one that left three hours earlier than the one originally booked. Once she got past the security checkpoint, and thus safely tucked away from non-passengers, she didn’t care how long she had to wait in the godforsaken airport. So long as she could escape this place without seeing Logan again and hearing his long list of excuses. She’d heard them all before anyway.

  With her coat on, sh
e grabbed a piece of scrap paper and scribbled a hasty note to Logan, her blood pumping from adrenaline and hurt and a heaping dash of the anger she’d thought had subsided long ago. Once she’d written everything she needed to say, she grabbed her bags.

  As she closed his door behind her and headed down to the lobby and the waiting taxi, she swallowed down the ball of anguish that had settled in her chest. This was for the better. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—go through this with him again.

  She was done with Logan and his empty promises. She’d had enough of those for a thousand lifetimes.

  * * *

  It had taken him longer than expected to return. Traffic had been a bitch, and then Sophie had spent a good thirty minutes debating between two puppies that, to be honest, looked exactly the same to him. She’d insisted they were different, though, so he waited patiently, trying not to look at his watch every thirty seconds and tap his foot.

  When he’d finally gotten her settled with her mom, propped in a chair, beaming and holding her new sister with Brooke hovering nearby, he tore out of the hospital and sped his way home. He knew Claire was upset, could tell by the look in her eyes and the fake smile she kept plastering on her face. And he fucking hated that he’d put both there.

  He didn’t know what he could do. This trip had been in the making for three years. RS Enterprises was a huge conglomerate, and he’d been trying to get their new contracts all of those years. Even this appointment had been a struggle to pin down. He’d been given two dates—Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve—to meet with the pompous jackass CEO of the multi-million dollar company, so he’d picked the lesser of two evils. He hadn’t gone out on New Year’s Eve since he and Claire had been together. He hadn’t seen the point. And now, if he called the prickly assistant to Richard Sadlow to try and reschedule, it would be a shit-storm.

  Sighing heavily, he made his way down the hall to his condo. He and Claire could figure out something. He’d fly to San Diego when he didn’t have Sophie. Hell, he’d clear his schedule and stay for a week if that would make her happy.

 

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