Logan (13 page)

“DUDE, I DON’T know what you have going on with Stella, but if you’re not going to hit that, I want a shot,” Jackson said over Logan’s shoulder.

Logan grabbed his younger brother’s arm and squeezed his muscle. They were cooking spaghetti in his mother’s kitchen. He and Stella had hardly spoken since she told him she’d love-fucked him. After a long, tense afternoon, and with the timeline on Kutcher’s release closing in on them, Logan was in no mood for a pissing match over Stella. Logan eyed the entryway into the living room, where Stella and Heath were talking with his mother.

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan warned.

Jackson put his hands up in surrender. “Get a grip. What’s gotten into you?”

Logan released him. “Sorry,” he ground out. He knew Jackson was just messing around, but between waiting for the news on Kutcher and Stella pulsing hot and cold, Logan’s nerves were threadbare.

Jackson lowered his voice. “Hey, man, I’d never make a move on your girl. I was just feeling you out.”

“Not a good idea.” He paced the small room. “She’s got a lot of shit going on right now.”

“She does, or you do?” Jackson held his stare.

“We both do.” He stopped talking when Stella appeared in the doorway.

Her eyes darted between the two men. She fidgeted with the seam of her jeans. “Want some help?”

“Sure.” Logan gave Jackson a stare that he knew he’d read as,
Get the hell out of here
.

Jackson pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I’ll go talk with Mom.”

Stella stood close enough that Logan could smell her fruity shampoo. “Your family’s really nice.”

“Thanks.” He focused on stirring the spaghetti sauce, still trying to figure out how to handle things with her.

“Do you cook for your mom often?”

Logan shrugged. “We take turns throughout the week.”

“
Every
week?”

He met her surprised gaze. “Yeah, well, since my father…”

Her eyes filled with empathy as she touched his arm. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

Sorry for what? Breaking things off with me, or sorry about my mother?
He wished he knew the answer.

“Yeah, well.” He lifted a piece of spaghetti from the pot and plopped it into his mouth. It needed another minute.

“Your mom said the police gave up looking for the guy who broke in.”

Logan shifted his eyes away, remembering the night he’d taken his parents’ assailant’s life and realizing that she wasn’t sorry for breaking it off with him. He didn’t want to talk about his father’s death. He was having enough trouble trying to navigate their relationship. “Yup.”

“Aren’t you worried for her with him still out there?”

Logan hadn’t told his mother that he’d killed her attacker, but she’d believed Logan when he’d told her the guy had been taken care of. He didn’t know what his mother thought that meant, and he had no desire to find out. She was safe, and that was all that mattered. As for Stella, he was done pussyfooting around. He was no better at feigning his emotions than she was at it, no matter how hard she tried to play it cool.

He slid his hand around her waist, ignoring the way her body tensed against his.

“I don’t want to talk about my father.” He held her gaze. “Stella, you can resist me, but I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“Logan.” She turned away and lowered her voice. “You don’t need someone like me in your life. You have a great family, a great life, and I have Kutcher.”

He turned her in his arms again and touched her cheek, guiding her eyes back to his. “I want
you
, and I feel like you want me, too, but you’re fighting it.”

“Am not.”

He smiled at the adorable way she said the lie. “You can fool yourself, sweetheart, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You see what you want to see,” she snapped, but her body belied her tone. Her hips pressed into his. He splayed his hands across her lower back and noticed the pulse at the base of her neck quickening.

“I like what I see, but I don’t see how you feel about me,” he said. “I feel it.”

She rolled her eyes, but Logan refused to be dissuaded. This love was real; he’d bet his life on it. He pressed a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “You feel it, too, darlin’, and I’ll be right here waiting when you can no longer fight it.”

Heath appeared in the doorway, and Stella quickly disengaged from his arms with a look of a guilty teenager caught necking on the couch.

“Sorry to interrupt. Just thought I’d grab the plates.” Heath reached into a cabinet.

Logan enjoyed watching Stella squirm. She looked cute as hell, all pink-cheeked and flustered.

“Thanks, Heath.” Logan arched a brow at Stella, who widened her eyes as if to say,
Now look what you did
.

He drained and rinsed the pasta and coughed to muffle a chuckle.

As soon as Heath left the room, she whispered, “Stop touching me.”

“Okay.” He shrugged like it was no big deal and transferred the pasta into a bowl, then poured the sauce into another serving dish.

“I mean it,” she snapped.

“I said, okay.”

The back door swung open and Cooper sauntered in. “Logan, my man.” He pulled Logan into a manly embrace, which included a hard slap on the back, then zeroed in on Stella. “Well, well, well. Who is this?” He extended a hand, turning on his Wild charm. “Hi. I’m Cooper.”

“Hi, I’m St-Stella.”

Logan glanced over at her hesitation. Had she been about to say Stormy out of habit, or was she momentarily caught in his brother’s midnight-blue eyes?

Cooper lifted her hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. “You should let me shoot you sometime. You have great features.”

“Down, boy,” Logan teased. “Coop’s a photographer. He and Jackson own a photography studio.”

“I could make you a star.” Cooper raked an appraising eye down her body, and Logan picked up on her discomfort.

“Coop,” Logan warned with a narrow-eyed stare.

“Sorry. Industry hazard.” Cooper ran his eyes between them. “So, you’re with Logan?”

Logan said, “Yes,” at the same time Stella said, “Sort of.”

“She’s here with me, Coop.” He shook his head, refusing to be dissuaded. “The jury’s still out on what
with
means.”

“Got it. Thanks for cooking. Need me to grab anything? Forks? Glasses?”

“Nah, we’ve got it covered. Thanks.”

“Cool. Where’s Mom?” Cooper followed Logan’s nod toward the living room.

“It’s like I walked into a
GQ
fashion shoot,” Stella said quietly.

“Coop’s pretty handsome,” Logan admitted.

“Oh, please. Like you don’t know you’re even better-looking than him?” Stella lifted her chin with the challenge.

“Doesn’t matter what I think. It’s what you think that matters.” He handed her the sauce dish.

“I think I’m damn lucky to be having dinner with four handsome men, but it’s really kind of unfair. Four tall, dark, and blue-eyed brothers, with rock-hard bodies built for a fight? Seriously. What did your parents do, pay off the DNA police?”

Logan laughed and picked up the bowl of spaghetti. He leaned in close and whispered, “I may be built for a fight, but I think you know my body’s made for lovin’.”

***

IF STELLA HADN’T known that Mary Lou Wild was blind, she might not have noticed when they’d first arrived that Logan’s mother couldn’t see. Within a few seconds of their arrival in her living room, where she had been sitting in a recliner and knitting, Mary Lou had set her knitting needles aside and risen to her feet. She’d looked directly at Logan and opened her arms.
Lovey
, she’d said. Before Logan had a chance to introduce Stella, his mother had turned in her direction and smiled, as if she had sensed Stella standing beside him. She reached a hand out and drew Stella into an equally warm embrace, tugging at Stella’s ache for her own mother’s touch.

Stella watched her now as she ate dinner as if she weren’t blind. She seemed to sense where things were on her plate and never once fished for her glass on the table.

His mother folded her napkin and set it on the table beside her plate. “Lovey, dinner was delicious.”

Stella sat between Logan and Mary Lou, across from his brothers, Heath, Cooper, and Jackson. Sitting at a real dinner table with a real family again brought down more of Stella’s defenses. Logan’s knee kept brushing hers, and he’d draped an arm over the back of her chair. Her body pleaded for her to lean in to him, to give in to what they both wanted, but she was still afraid of what tomorrow would bring.

“You always have to outdo me,” Coop teased.

“That’s not hard to do. You never actually cook.” Logan turned his attention to Stella. “Coop’s idea of cooking dinner for the family is bringing takeout with him instead of having it delivered.”

Cooper pointed his fork at Logan. “Hey, I made burgers over the summer.”

“It’s true. He brought the premade patties and everything,” Heath teased.

“Look who’s talking,” Jackson countered. “Last week you brought frozen lasagna.”

“Boys, that’s enough bickering.” Every word Mary Lou spoke was layered in love for her children, and it brought Stella’s longing for her mother closer to the surface. “I’m thankful that you have dinner with me at all. You all have successful careers and you’re so busy.” She shook her head. “Stella, do you know that there isn’t a night of the week that one of my boys isn’t here with me? Not a single night, bless their hearts. They think I’m an invalid.”

“We do not,” Logan and Jackson said in unison.

“It’s our pleasure, Mom.” Heath reached across the table and touched his mother’s hand. “We’re lucky that you make time for us.”

“Oh, honey. Please.” She leaned toward Stella again. “Luckiest mother around, I tell you.”

Stella felt her throat thickening. What she wouldn’t give to have dinner with her mother. Just one night. Maybe now that Logan had figured out how Kutcher was tracking her, she’d be able to go see her without Kutcher knowing.

Maybe hope wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

“Good to hear your shoot went well today,” Logan said.

Stella wondered if he’d sensed her need to change the subject. He’d been checking in with her all evening. Making sure she was okay. It would be easier to ignore her feelings for him if he weren’t so attentive and caring.

Holy crap
.

What am I doing? I don’t want to ignore my feelings. I want Logan—without Kutcher breathing down our backs.

“We’re shooting the teasers for a movie your friend Zane Walker’s in in a few weeks,” Cooper said to Logan. “You should come watch. It’ll be fun. We’re shooting in Sweetwater, by your cabin.”

“Really? Maybe we will,” Logan answered.

We?

The smile Logan flashed told her that he’d meant to use the word
we
, and it made her heart tumble in her chest. Darn heart. She was supposed to be keeping her distance, but it was hard to do around him, and being near his family made it even more difficult. They were warm and friendly, and she loved the way they teased one another. She’d often wished for siblings when she was growing up, and she imagined if she’d had them, they would have been as close-knit as Logan’s family. Maybe a few savvy older brothers would have warned her away from Kutcher in the first place.

“Logan said you met Willow,” Jackson said. “Did she make you her famous cupcakes?”

“The pink-frosted ones?” she asked, remembering the sweet deliciousness. “Yes, and they were delicious. It’s a good thing I don’t work with her all the time. I’d weigh three hundred pounds.”

“You’d be the sexiest three-hundred-pound woman on earth,” Logan said.

She touched his thigh, realizing too late that instinct had taken action before she’d had a chance to stop it. His hand came down on hers and held on tight.

“He’s such a flirt,” Mary Lou said.

“Yes. He doesn’t know when to quit.” Stella tried to give Logan a serious stare, but she knew she’d failed because it was hard to look harsh around a man who was looking at her like she really was the most beautiful woman on earth.

“Oh, lovey,” Mary Lou said quietly. “He’s not going to quit. These boys don’t have any control over their hearts. Neither do you, sweetie.” She moved her head as if she were looking around the table at each of her sons. Heath’s, Jackson’s, and Cooper’s brows were furrowed with disbelief. Logan was grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Your heart knows its mate before you’re even aware something’s going on, and when it figures out who that person is, you’re about as powerful as a feather in the wind. There’s nothing you can do but go along for the ride.”

Jackson scoffed. “Well, I’m doing just fine without taking that particular ride.”

“Of course you are, Jackson.” Mary Lou turned toward Jackson’s voice. “Your heart’s still untethered, but Logan...”

“Mom,” Logan warned.

“Lovey, I’m not telling tales. Your hearts are tethered. A mother knows these things.”

Stella’s jaw dropped open at his mother’s candor.

Mary Lou patted Stella’s arm. “Close your mouth, dear.”

Stella was entranced by the way Mary Lou picked up on things most sighted people wouldn’t notice.

“Did you have any more trouble with that guy at the bar?” Heath asked.

“No. Thanks to Logan.” She glanced at Logan. She’d never thought to ask him how he’d known the guy had dragged her into the alley the other night. Or why he’d been following them in the first place. It seemed like he’d been placed in her life when she needed him most. Her guardian angel. And he hadn’t tried to get away from her once. Any other man would have been long gone.

But not Logan.

He’d made a promise that first night to keep her safe.

He was committed.

He was in love.

With me.

Mary Lou leaned closer to Stella and said quietly, “He’s a good man.”

“Mom, I don’t need any pimping,” Logan said.

“We all need pimping now and again, Logan,” his mother said. “Besides, I’m not telling her anything she doesn’t already know.”

She was right, even if Stella was trying to ignore the way he fawned over her, checking to see if she needed more wine or wanted more spaghetti. Or the way he’d taken her to his cabin. Even his leaving her with Willow was done out of love.