Deserving of Luke (17 page)

If he stayed here, he'd just end up back upstairs, in bed with Paige as he desperately tried to convince himself that she was his. Desperately tried to convince himself that the past wouldn't repeat itself.

No, he needed to be alone for a while. Grabbing his keys, he bounded out the door. He needed to get away for a while. Needed to be by himself. Needed to think. He had to decide, once and for all, if he could trust Paige not to hurt him again.

P
AIGE WOKE UP ALONE.

Sleepy, satisfied, more than half in love with Logan again and thinking about a morning quickie before he had to go to work, Paige reached across the mattress to where she expected him to be, only to find the space empty.

Logan was probably in the bathroom or had run downstairs to make coffee before work. She rolled over, luxuriating in the stretch to well-used, slightly sore muscles. She buried her face in his pillow, absorbing the sexy ocean and pine tree scent of him.

She could wake up this way every day for the rest of her life.

The thought had her eyes flying open, had her sitting up in bed and clutching the sheet to her chest as an unfamiliar feeling of vulnerability worked its way through her. She hadn't really been thinking that, had she? Hadn't really been imagining waking up next to Logan every day for the rest of her life.

She couldn't have been. Even the thought was absurd, the idea that they could somehow make
things work, after everything that had happened between them.

Except that she was. She really was.

She was being ridiculous, she told herself. One night did not a lifetime make. But nothing with her and Logan had ever been just one night. And the way he'd held her, the way he'd made love to her over and over again, the way he'd wrapped himself around her and slept with her head pressed into his heart—it had to mean something to him. It certainly meant a lot to her. Maybe too much.

Shoving her wayward bangs from her face, Paige crawled out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she put on her clothes from the night before and went in search of Logan. Better to face him now, to see what he was thinking, instead of lying in bed alternately worrying and spinning fantasies that might never come true.

But as she worked her way through the big house, she couldn't find him. Not in any of the bathrooms, not in the family room, not in Luke's room—she'd peeked in and found her son still dead to the world—not on the front porch. As she stood there, taking in the scent and sound of the ocean slowly rolling in, she saw his truck was missing. Logan was gone, without so much as a “Thank you, ma'am.”

The hurt that came with the realization was surprisingly sharp, shockingly painful. Even as she told
herself it was no big deal, that she'd been anticipating this behavior, she knew she was lying. He'd given her the most beautiful night of her life and part of her—the part that still sighed over fairy tales even though she knew they never happened in real life—had expected him to be here, waiting for her.

She'd hoped to find him in the kitchen, smiling at her over a cup of coffee. Had hoped to find him on the front porch, reading the newspaper and listening to the ocean. Instead he was gone and she was left with a heart that was surprisingly bruised.

She made her way into the kitchen, desperate for some caffeine to dispel the cobwebs still taking up residence in the corners of her mind. If she could get rid of them, she could shake off this stupid melancholy and put aside her disappointment.

She was halfway to the coffeemaker, bag of beans in hand, before the large pink bakery box on the counter registered. Next to it stood two full cups of coffee that were still warm and a stack of napkins with Delilah's scrawled across them.

Paige didn't even try to stop the goofy grin. Logan hadn't snuck out in the middle of the night, desperate to get away from her. He'd stayed until morning, had even driven into town to get breakfast for the three of them. He wasn't here now, but he'd left his coffee behind—almost as if he'd left in a huge hurry. He must have gotten an emergency call from work and
run out to deal with it. Such was the life of a small-town sheriff, or so she assumed.

Reaching for the coffee he'd left her, she took a long sip, savoring the warmth as it flowed through her system. But even as she drank, she had a feeling that the heat inside of her had much more to do with her feelings for Logan than it did the coffee.

It was a scary thought given their history. But she wasn't going to think about that today, she told herself firmly. She wasn't going to worry about the future when the present was so glorious.

Taking her coffee and a chocolate croissant out to the porch, she sat on the swing and simply watched the ocean roll in. She didn't want to think anymore, didn't want to second and third and fourth guess Logan's motives. Didn't want to worry about what every word and facial expression meant. That was the stuff of teenagers and she was no longer one. She might have loved Logan since she was seventeen—even as she'd hated him—but that didn't mean that she had to behave like she was still a child. She was a grown woman and smart enough to know that what was meant to happen would happen and there wasn't a lot she could do about it.

Yet she still found herself listening for the phone to ring, or for the sound of Logan's truck in the driveway.

Neither had happened by the time Luke made his
way downstairs an hour and a half later, still a little bleary-eyed from the fun he'd had the night before.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, baby. Why don't you come sit over here with me?” She lifted her arm to indicate that he should snuggle against her.

“Did you sleep well?” she asked as he settled in against her.

He yawned, stretched a little. “Yeah. But I wish it was nighttime already.”

“You know if you're still tired, you can go back to sleep. It's not like there's anything we have to do today, except more painting.”

“I like to paint. But I want it to be night because Dad said he'd take us bowling after his shift, remember? He gets off at six.”

She had forgotten and Luke's words erased any lingering concerns she might have had over Logan's disappearance. If he was off at six that night, it probably meant he had to work the first shift, which she'd learned started early. She'd hear from him sometime during the day—he always called to confirm plans with Luke before he picked him up.

But as the day passed and she and Luke painted a third guest room—peach this time—Logan didn't call. When she took Luke outside to throw the football, she brought her cell phone in case, but no call. And when six o'clock came and went with no sign of
Logan and no phone call to cancel, the first stirrings of anger started to well inside of her.

It was one thing to sleep with her then disappear. It had been years since that had happened to her, but it had indeed happened in the past. But to make plans with her son and blow them off—blow
him
off? She wasn't okay with that and when Logan finally did get around to calling, she was going to tell him exactly what she thought of his behavior.

Luke seemed to take being stood up fairly well, considering how much he'd been looking forward to going bowling. But he kept telling her it was no big deal, that his dad probably had some big arrest at work. It had nearly broken her heart when he'd smiled and said, “The son of a police officer has to learn to be flexible. Bad things don't happen on a schedule.”

For Luke, she tried to keep the faith. Tried to tell herself the same thing—that Logan was stuck at work and unable to get away. But even as she told herself that, even as she agreed with her son that his father's absence didn't mean anything, deep inside she knew the truth. Logan regretted sleeping with her and was running away. Like most men of her acquaintance, he couldn't handle being honest about it, so he was staying away until she got the hint.

And boy, did she get it. He wouldn't have to worry about her making any unpleasant scenes this time
around, begging him to take her back, to believe her, to want her and her child. She'd learned her lesson last time, even if she had had a relapse.

But that relapse was over, her heart was once again hardened against him. When he called, she would tell him so, tell him he could see Luke because he had nothing to fear from her.

That's how stupid she was. How unbelievably moronic she was. That she really believed Logan would eventually call or stop by. That he would want to see his son, whom he'd sworn was the best part of his day.

Two days later, when Penny finally made it back from Portland, Paige and Luke were still waiting for the phone to ring.

 

“I
F YOU'RE SO MAD, WHY
don't you call him yourself?” Penny asked, as they sanded an armoire she had picked up in Portland for a song. Four days had passed since Logan had made love to Paige then pulled his disappearing act and she couldn't remember ever feeling so angry or guilty in her life.

If she hadn't slept with him, things would still be fine. He would still be showing up every day to take Luke on some fun outing, still be hanging out on the porch talking easily to her. He would still be the man she'd wanted to believe he was.

Instead, she had done something stupid, something
she'd sworn she would never do again and everything had gone to hell. And what bothered her the most, what hurt her the way nothing else could, was that she wasn't the only one suffering from her mistake. Luke was devastated by his father's desertion, confused and hurt and wondering what he had done wrong.

She told him every day that it wasn't his fault, that he'd had nothing to do with Logan's disappearance, but he didn't believe her. How could he? In his mind, his father had said he'd loved him then changed his mind. The dad he knew wouldn't do that without a reason. He wouldn't do it if Luke hadn't screwed up.

“Why should I call him?” she demanded as she took her anger out on the armoire, sanding for all she was worth. “He's the one who disappeared without a trace.”

“Exactly. Which is a pretty good indicator that he's not going to call. If you want to know what happened, you're going to have to be the bigger person.”

“I already know exactly what happened. The same thing that always happens with Logan. He got a shiny new toy and wanted to play with it. But after a while that toy got boring and he dropped it like it never existed, like he never really wanted it at all. Typical modus operandi for Logan Powell—I was the idiot who forgot. So I guess this whole mess is really my fault.”

Penny sat back on her haunches and Paige
pretended not to notice the way her sister was studying her. It didn't work. “I have to say, sis, that's the first time I have ever heard you refer to yourself as a toy.”

Paige shot her a fulminating glare. “It was a metaphor and I was referring to Luke. That kid is in his bedroom right now, trying to figure out what the hell he did wrong to make his father not want to be with him. It's awful. This whole thing is awful.”

Penny nodded her agreement. “I still can't believe you slept with him. What were you thinking?”

“I don't know. I wasn't thinking. Obviously.”

“Obviously.”

“But if you could have seen him that night. He was so tender, so sweet, so different than he'd ever been with me. It was impossible to say no.”

“Maybe he felt the same way.” Penny held up a hand to stay Paige's vehement denial. “I'm not defending the rat, believe me. Watching my nephew mope around like it's the end of the world has been no fun. But you told me yesterday that things had been so intense between the two of you that it scared you a little. Maybe Logan felt the same way.”

“I doubt it. If he'd felt even half of what I did, there's no way he'd be able to stay away. But again, this isn't about me. It's about Luke.”

“It's about both of you.”

“No, it isn't.”

“Yes, it is. Because if it was only about Luke, you would have been beating Logan's door down two days ago, demanding to know who the hell he thought he was to mess with your kid.”

“That's not true.”

“When have you ever let anyone hurt Luke without taking them on?” When Paige didn't answer, Penny smirked at her. “See? Never. Which means you're as hurt by his behavior as Luke is and you don't want to deal with it.”

“Since when are you a psychologist?” Paige tried to ignore the fact that her sister was right. She was hurt by Logan's behavior, and even worse, she felt like a moron.

She'd spent the past nine years growing strong, protecting herself and her child, making sure that no man could ever hurt her again. She'd kept to herself, dating only casually, if at all, in an effort to protect herself. To protect Luke. Not because she believed all men were scum, but because she knew one man was and she wanted to make sure she didn't make a similar mistake.

She laughed bitterly. Well, she had to hand it to herself. She hadn't done what she'd feared—hadn't made a similar mistake. Oh, no. Not her. She'd made the same damn mistake with the same damn man. It was humbling, and horrifying, to realize that despite everything, she really hadn't learned a thing.

So what was she supposed to do? Should she let this go? Ignore Logan and hope that in time Luke would grow to understand that his father's deficiencies had nothing to do with him? Should she talk to her son, admit her mistakes—past and present? Or should she confront Logan, force him to be the father that Luke needed?

She and Luke had been good on their own for a lot of years. No Logan meant no interference, no threat of a custody battle, no having to share Luke. She'd be lying if she didn't admit that that thought appealed to her, especially in light of recent events.

But just because it was the path of least resistance, didn't mean it was necessarily the right one. Luke had wanted a father figure for a long time. His father. That had become glaringly obvious in the days he spent with Logan.

Was it fair to deprive him of that, simply because it was easier for her not to deal with Logan? Penny was right. Paige had always fought for Luke, from the moment he was born. Had always been willing to take on anyone and anything in an effort to make her son's life better.

So why wasn't she doing that now? Why wasn't she confronting Logan and demanding that he take responsibility for his son? Not monetarily—Luke had everything he needed and then some—but emotion
ally. Why wasn't she taking him on, when it was obvious that her son needed him? Wanted him?