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Waiting for the One

Page 29

by L. A. Fiore


  “Huge.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  “I look like Jabba the Hutt.”

  He rolls his eyes at me as he starts around the table to help me out of my chair. “You’re gorgeous,” he says as he places his hands on my stomach. “And this makes you even more so. In fact, I think I would like to see you this way three or four more times.”

  I’m incredulous and hot all at once. “Let me have this one first.”

  “If I must.” He lowers his head and kisses me and that’s when I feel the water running down my legs. I jerk away.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “My water just broke.”

  “What?” He just stands there with a slightly terrified look on his face.

  “Logan?”

  His voice is barely over a whisper. “Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me.”

  It takes me a minute to realize what he means and, when I do, I frame his face with my hands.

  “Never, Logan. It’s only childbirth; people do it all the time. Besides, I’ve only just gotten you back. I’m afraid you’re stuck with me and that is a very long, long life sentence.”

  He turns his head and presses a kiss in my palm before those eyes find mine again. “I’m going to hold you to that, wife.”

  “Count on it, husband.”

  And then he smiles that smile again. “I better get you to the clinic, brat.” He wraps his strong arm around me and leads me to the door where he reaches for the bag that has been packed for weeks. He settles me into the car, pulling on my seat belt and latching it, before kneeling down next to me and pressing his lips to mine.

  “I want you to know that as much as I am going to love this child and any other children we create together, you will always be the holder of my heart and the keeper of my soul.”

  And with those beautiful words I start crying again. He closes the door and slides across the hood to climb behind the wheel. As we start down the street, his hand reaches over to wrap around mine and he squeezes it as a smile spreads over his face. I smile back and then the contractions start.

  EPILOGUE

  Tucker’s is packed as I stand behind the bar and build a Guinness. Broderick is watching Hunter tonight and is actually having his first solo sleepover with him: something Broderick has been pestering us for since Hunter was born. It has been six months since Hunter Frank MacGowan was born. To say he is the spitting image of his father and grandfather is not an exaggeration. Fatherhood for Logan has been a truly wonderful sight to behold, to see such a strong man brought to his knees by a little bundle. For me, I have the family I always wished for and the reality is so much better than I ever imagined.

  There are times when I’ll be doing something simple like cooking dinner or washing laundry and I stop to offer thanks for the wonderful life I have: for the man, the child, the family, and the friends. Even more humbling to me is Logan. As close as he is with Hunter, there’s something more when he looks at me, some connection that seems to transcend everything. When he looks at me, his heart is in his eyes and his love for me is so pure and absolute. I understand how he feels, since it’s the same for me.

  The door to Tucker’s opens and in walks the man in question. He’s dressed in jeans and flannel and his hair is pulled back into a ponytail. Unlike the first time he entered Tucker’s, Logan’s face is clean-shaven, so nothing hampers the view of his magnificent features. He walks toward the bar and takes his seat a moment before Tommy calls to me.

  “Saffron, can you get him a Harp?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I pop the top and walk on down the bar before placing the bottle before him. “You new around town?” I ask.

  His eyes hold mine a moment before he replies, “Yeah.”

  I lean my hip against the counter. “What brings you to Harrington?”

  “A woman.”

  I attempt to raise my eyebrow and fail miserably. I notice the humor in those green eyes staring rather intently at me before I say, “Chasing after a woman? Not many men would admit to that.”

  He lifts his beer and takes a pull. “I guess that would depend on the woman.”

  “Is she worth it?”

  “Hell yes.”

  “Really?”

  “Sexiest woman I’ve ever known.” His gaze unwavering, he adds, “She’s loving and generous too, even if she tends to be a brat at times but”—he leans farther over the bar toward me—“her meatloaf could be used in masonry work.”

  “Nice.”

  “She’s insatiable. Can’t seem to get enough of me day and night.”

  “You don’t say.”

  He takes another pull from his beer. “Yep.”

  Someone calls an order to me and I start to head down the bar when his hand catches mine. When I look back, the love in those emerald eyes stills my breath. He yanks me closer as he stands.

  “And I love her to distraction, want her every second of the day, and thank the stars that she’s mine.”

  His hands come up to frame my face. “I love you, wife.”

  “I love you, husband.”

  And then right in front of everyone in Tucker’s, Logan kisses me to the sounds of whistles and catcalls. I’m still feeling the effects of his kiss, so it takes me a minute before my brain catches up to realize that Logan has once again taken his seat. I start down the bar to fill a few orders, but when I return a bit later to Logan, he’s just sitting there watching me in that silent way of his.

  I lean against the bar. “Do you want anything else?”

  “Just you.”

  That’s it, I’m cooked. I take off my apron as I walk around the bar and reach for Logan’s hand. “I’m going home, Tommy.”

  I don’t wait for a response as I pull Logan from the bar, and when we’re outside, he draws me to him. “That worked like a charm.”

  And then his mouth comes down on mine. It took us a long time to get here but he was so worth the wait.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  As always thank you to my husband and children for not only understanding when I put in eighteen-hour days for weeks at a time but letting me put in eighteen-hour days for weeks at a time. I love you.

  For my sister, thanks for just being you: my best friend and sounding board.

  Thank you, Thom and your team, for your tireless efforts with marketing my books.

  Jessica, for being on point to answer any questions I’ve had during this wild ride of publishing.

  Thanks to my copyeditor, Michelle, and proofreader for adding your expertise and rounding out the last of the rough edges.

  Thank you to the design team and the incredible covers you create.

  Maria, thanks for loving Saffron’s voice and Logan’s quiet intensity as much as I do.

  To Krista, my editor. This is the fourth book we’ve worked on together and we have definitely hit our stride. I love how this book turned out, from the rough first draft to the final product, incredible. Thank you.

  To all the bloggers who have helped with spreading the word about my books, most especially Kylie from Give Me Books, thank you.

  To my ill-mannered cats, Salem and Saphira; our chases around the house, believe it or not, actually help with my creative process. Now please get off the piano.

  Artemis, you really are the best dog ever.

  Willow, rest in peace, little one.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  L.A. Fiore is the author of several books including Beautifully Damaged, Beautifully Forgotten, and Always and Forever. She’s also the social secretary for her two children, a tamer of ill-mannered cats, the companion to one awesome dog, and married to her best friend. She likes her wine red, her shrimp chilled, and her social gatherings small and intimate. She loves hearing from readers and can be reached through Facebook at: www.facebook.com/l.a.fiore.publishing.

 

 

 



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