Deserving of Luke (8 page)

She was used to that kind of stuff from her parents, but Logan had seemed different. He had held her, whispered his dreams to her, told her that they would be together forever. Finding out it had all been a lie, finding out that he considered her nothing more than trash, had shattered her.

She'd gotten over it—of course she had. He might have ripped her heart out once, but she'd spent the past nine years repairing it, and building a wall around her heart that he could never breach.

Which is why she could do this. Why she could call him up and ask him if he wanted to meet them for ice cream. She would pretend that those long-ago nights and promises had happened to someone else.

If Luke wanted to meet his father, wanted to try to build a relationship with him, then she wasn't going to stand in his way—even if it ripped her apart. Her son meant everything to her. She'd always thought that she would brave the gates of hell itself for him. So surely she could handle making nice for a few
hours with the man who had made his existence possible.

Right?

Absolutely, she assured herself as she reached for the small phone book Penny kept in the cabinet beneath the phone. And if she had to superglue a smile on her face before she met him, then so be it. Luke was worth it. He was worth anything.

T
WO AND A HALF HOURS LATER,
Paige wasn't so sure. Not about her kid being worth everything because, hey, he totally was. But about letting Logan into his life. When they'd arranged to meet at the ice cream parlor at eight o'clock, Logan had sounded thrilled at the chance to finally meet his son, which was why she'd told Luke over dinner that he would be meeting his father.

Her son had nearly jumped out of his chair in excitement, had babbled nonstop through the meal about what it would be like to finally know his dad. He'd bombarded her with questions about Logan, questions he'd never asked before but that must have been simmering inside him for quite a while to come out in the well-organized barrage that they had.

She'd answered what she could, but she hadn't kept tabs on Logan through the years. She didn't know how long he'd been back in town, didn't know what he'd been doing in the years since she'd left. She'd made it a point not to know.

Penny had stepped in and answered some of the
questions—had told him about his dad being a homicide detective in Seattle, about the fact that he'd been married for a while. As Paige had listened to her sister relate her somewhat sketchy knowledge of Logan's life, she'd been overwhelmed by sadness.

How awful was it that this man, who had once meant everything to her—who she had made a baby with—had turned into someone she didn't know anything about? He'd given her a child, which was the most intimate gift one person could give another, and yet they meant nothing to each other. Less than nothing.

But now, well over an hour later, her sadness had turned to annoyance. She glanced at the clock on her cell phone again, saw that seven minutes had passed since she'd last checked it, which meant that Logan was now twenty-three minutes late. So much for being anxious to finally meet his son.

Luke had rushed them through the last half of dinner, determined not to be late for his date with his father. The result was that they'd arrived about ten minutes early, which meant that she had had to sit here for over thirty minutes, watching as her son jumped every time the door opened.

Watching as his beautiful face lit with hope every time the bell jangled.

Watching as his shoulders slumped a little more with each person who hadn't been his father.

To be fair, Logan had called right around eight o'clock, to tell them he was running late—the life of a police officer, he'd said with what sounded like a grimace. She appreciated the call, appreciated that Logan had agreed to meet them on such short notice. But watching her son's painful excitement was hard to bear.

Even as she told herself that Logan would be here, that he'd called, a part of her was stressed at the idea of him standing up their son. Maybe she should have more faith in him, but it wasn't as though he'd dropped everything to be here with Luke. Plus, it wasn't as though she didn't know Logan's modus operandi, didn't know that he couldn't be depended on. Couldn't be trusted.

Tonight was a perfect example. She always dropped everything when Luke was involved. Logan, who had claimed to be so fascinated with his son, couldn't even make it to an ice cream parlor on time—with two hours' notice. It didn't bode well for the father-son future. And while part of her was excited that Logan might only be a small part of her son's life for a little while, the mother in her wanted to kick her own ass for agreeing to this to begin with.

If Luke got hurt, she was going to plow her fist into Logan's face and to hell with getting arrested for assaulting an officer. It would be worth it, especially since she'd wanted to do it for nine long years.

“I say we give him seven more minutes and then get the hell out of this place,” Penny whispered. “If Luke jumps one more time, I swear I'm going to cry.”

Paige knew exactly how she felt. Watching her son wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, watching him smile anxiously, was killing her. Logan had better show up—she didn't think either of them could go through this again.

“He'll be here, Mom.” Luke's voice was low and small, but had the same underlying determination he had faced life with for all eight years of his existence. “I'm sure of it.”

She wanted to ask how he was so sure, but knew that that would only make him more nervous, so she kept her mouth shut. Instead she started preparing a speech about why his father might not have been able to make it—police officers are important people, emergencies, et cetera. She prayed she wouldn't have to use it.

The bell attached to the door jangled yet again and Paige felt her entire body grow tense. Though she wasn't looking in that direction, somehow she knew that this time it was Logan—even before she saw her son's face. There was something about him, something about being in the same room with him, that seemed to suck up all of the air around her.

“Mom! He's coming over here!” Luke practically
jumped up and down in his chair. “What should I say?”

“You could start with hello.”

The look he threw her told her how totally lame he found the answer, but she didn't have a better one. She wasn't sure what she was going to say to Logan either.

But whatever it was, she'd better think of it quickly. Because the look on his face said he wasn't leaving here without some answers, one way or the other.

And wasn't that just typical? What had she learned nine years ago, growing up in this hellhole of a town? That no good deed goes unpunished? It looked like tonight that expression was going to fit to a T.

With an inward sigh, she put her game face on. And wondered when things were going to get a little easier. She was so tired of fighting the entire world.

 

L
OGAN'S HEART WAS BEATING
way too fast as he crossed the small ice cream parlor. How sad was it that, even in Seattle, he could go into tense situations without breaking a sweat, but facing Luke—and Paige—had him so freaked out he could barely form a coherent thought.

He'd tried to be on time—had done everything he could to get here before eight o'clock. But at 7:15, a domestic violence call had come through and
with Riley, his deputy on duty, tied up on a robbery case across town, he'd had no choice but to take it himself.

Wasn't it typical? Not much happened in Prospect in the months and weeks before the tourists showed up en masse. Yet it didn't escape his notice that the past week had been loaded with unexpected complaints and situations that had required police intervention. It was as if the town itself was conspiring to keep him away from Paige. And from his son.

But that didn't matter now. Nothing did but making a good first impression on his son, though he didn't have the foggiest idea how to do that.

In the end, Paige broke the ice for them. “Hi, Logan. How are you?”

He focused on her like the lifeline she was—with every ounce of concentration he had in his body. “I'm fine. Sorry I'm late. If there was any way I could have gotten here on time…”

His voice trailed off and he soaked in every detail of her. She looked good tonight—really good. Dressed in jeans that hugged her abundant curves and a hot pink knit shirt that showed off her glowing skin while also cupping her breasts, it was hard to imagine she was the mother of an eight-year-old son.
His
eight-year-old son.

For a minute, he was transported to high school, when they'd hung out here and talked about how
much they wanted out of this town. He had never minded Prospect, but Paige had wanted out with a single-minded intensity that had bordered on obsession. He had gone along with her because—well, because he hadn't wanted to lose her. In the end, nothing had worked out the way they'd planned, and even after all these years it was still a kick in the ass that they'd both gotten out, but it hadn't been together.

“It's okay, Dad. Mom and I talked about how important your job is and how sometimes you can't get away.”

Logan froze at the sound of the nervous little voice, a million emotions and thoughts rushing through him at the same time. His son had called him
Dad
—something that had seemed a hundred years off even a week ago. Paige had made excuses for him—something he wouldn't have guessed possible based on her animosity towards him. The entire ice cream parlor was looking at them, eavesdropping—something he should be used to, but that he totally resented now, as he met his son for the first time. This was personal, and no one else's business but his, Paige's and Luke's.

Knowing he couldn't avoid it any longer—not wanting to avoid it, despite his own all-consuming nervousness—Logan turned to his son. And was struck again by how beautiful he was. Luke's silver
eyes were alive with intelligence and mischief and his little face was glowing, much as his mother's did, as if he was lit up from the inside by some vibrance, that the rest of the world could only guess at.

“Thanks—” His voice broke and he cleared his throat, tried again. “Thanks a lot, Luke. I appreciate that. I've been really anxious to meet you.”

“I've been anxious to meet you, too.”

An awkward silence spread as Logan struggled for something else to say and he threw Paige a look of desperation, though he didn't expect her to rescue him. He figured letting him anywhere near Luke was the limits of her beneficence.

But she surprised him. “Luke's been waiting for you to get his ice cream. Why don't you take him up to the counter and let him pick something out?”

He latched on to the suggestion like the lifeline it was. “Absolutely. What's your favorite flavor?”

“I
loooooooove
strawberry ice cream.”

“Me, too.” Instinct had him holding his hand out, and his heart tripped when Luke unhesitatingly slipped his small hand into his. “It's my favorite.”

“Cool! I also like chocolate chip.” Luke sent him a cagey look. “Can I get a scoop of each? I ate all my vegetables at dinner.”

He started to say “sure, of course,” he could have three scoops and a milkshake if he wanted—he could have anything—but remembered Paige at the last
second. He glanced at her for permission, then felt as though he'd been hit in the stomach by a sledgehammer. The way she was smiling at Luke—as if the sun rose and set on their son—turned her from merely pretty to absolutely gorgeous. It made her nearly incandescent and he felt an unwanted tug low in his belly as he remembered a time when she had looked at him that way.

It had been the happiest time of his life—until he'd learned that he wasn't the only one on the receiving end of her looks and kisses. That had nearly killed him, especially since he'd spent most of his life watching his father fool around on his mother. When it had happened to him, it had hit entirely too close to home.

“Since we had a deal, you can have two scoops. But that's all. And don't think it's going to be a regular thing, mister.”

“Awesome! Thanks, Mom.” Luke looked up at him. “Is that okay, Dad? I mean, can I get two scoops like Mom says?”

“Of course.” He glanced at Paige, his eyes drawn to her like metal to a strong magnet. “What can I get for you and Penny?”

“Nothing for me,” Penny drawled, standing. “In fact, I think I'm going to head out. I've been up since five this morning. You don't mind giving my sister and nephew a ride home tonight, do you, Logan?”

“No. Of course not.”

“But—”

Paige latched on to her sister's hand. “I thought we were going to—”

“I know. But I'm tired, sis. You understand, don't you?”

Paige didn't answer, but it didn't take many of his investigating skills to pick up on the silent battle of wills being waged between the two sisters. Penny must have won, though, because Paige finally said, “Okay. I'll see you in a little while.” There was such disgust in the words and inflection, not to mention an implied threat, that he would have felt bad for Penny if he hadn't felt so insulted at Paige's obvious reluctance to have anything to do with him.

It was stupid, especially considering both their past and their last interaction, but there it was. He was obviously an idiot.

As Penny exited, he was left alone with his son and his—Paige. He didn't know what else to call her at that point. “So, can I get you anything?”

“Come on, Mom. Decide.” Luke seemed to dance with impatience beside him.

“Okay, okay. You could give a woman a chance, you know.” She grinned at her son, then turned to Logan, including him in her amusement. “I'll take a scoop of butter pecan, please.”

The tug in his belly became a hit from a sledgehammer as he realized how much he still liked being
smiled at by Paige. A little tug of attraction pulled at him, but he ignored it. Concentrated instead on how good it felt to be included—even for a while—in the obvious affection between mother and son.

“Sure. All right, Luke. The sooner we get that ice cream, the sooner we can dig in.”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you.”

Paige laughed and Logan laughed with her. He couldn't help it. Luke was too damn adorable for words.

A few minutes later they were sitting together, their ice cream in front of them. Luke dived into his like a starving man and Logan watched him with amazed indulgence.

“He can really put it away,” he commented to Paige as Luke shoved a particularly large bite of chocolate chip into his mouth.

“You have no idea. I'm already dreading the high school years.” But she reached out and tapped Luke on the forearm. “Let's show your dad that you weren't raised in a barn, hmm?”

Luke grinned. “Sorry, Mom. But this is the best ice cream ever.”

“It is,” Logan agreed. “I used to dream about it when I lived in Seattle.”

Luke looked scandalized. “They don't have ice cream in Seattle?”

“They do. But none this good.”