Magic Kiss (Hope Falls Book 11) (9 page)

Drew’s head spun towards his mom.

Emma shook her head. “No. We couldn’t impose. That’s very generous, but there’s no way that we could—”

“Please.” Logan started using the same tactics as the kid. “I have a lot of missed godfather time to make up for.”

Was it low to use the kid? Yes. Would it work? He sure as hell hoped so.

*

What the…?

Emma’s mind couldn’t comprehend what was happening. This situation had spun out of control faster than a top on an ice rink. She was about as far from a fly-by-the seat-of-her-pants gal as one could get. In first grade, the only thing she’d asked Santa for was a planner. A very expensive, very detailed
planner.
At least, when she was six, her responsibilities had been limited to remembering her packed lunch and her homework folder.

Once she’d become a single mom responsible for not only her own future but her son’s as well, her organization had taken on a life of its own. Everything, down to the amount of time it took to fold laundry, was scheduled. It had almost short-circuited her brain when she’d agreed to let Drew attend a camp and booked herself a flight to New York with only two weeks’ notice.

But this? This was like warp-speed adjustment and she was trying to hang on and not be airsick. Literally. She felt like she might throw up. Her upset stomach probably had a little to do with the fact that she’d only eaten junk food and hadn’t slept in almost two days, but whatever the reason, she wanted to hurl.

Instead, she took a few deep breaths and mentally organized the unfolding events to play emotional catch-up.

First, her six-month deadline had been cut down to two months. That one had thrown her for a roller coaster ride, but with a little help from Logan, she’d pulled back into sanity station with minimal bumps and bruises.

Then Drew had landed the I-want-to-stay-in-Hope-Falls one-two punch on her and that had knocked her flat on her metaphorical ass. But she’d quickly regained her footing and said that she would look into it. She’d agreed to consider staying in Hope Falls because she hadn’t seen her son this excited about anything…ever. Her career was important, but if she said no to staying, she would extinguish that look in her son’s eyes, and she couldn’t live with that.

So they were staying in Hope Falls. Fine. That had given her world temporary whiplash, but it was nothing she couldn’t recover from with a little dose of I’m-being-a-good-mom Tylenol and a you-only-live-once neck brace.

She feared, however, that the latest bomb Logan just dropped might be the thing that pushed her off the I-can-handle-anything cliff, whose edge she was navigating precariously like a high tightrope walker.

He wanted them to stay
here
. With
him
. In the same house. For six weeks. That couldn’t happen. Even if he weren’t just being kind and actually wanted them to stay—though she seriously doubted that!—she could never agree to it. How would she get any work done with him in the next room after she’d seen that picture of him shirtless? All she’d think about was the slope of his broad shoulders, the contours of his defined abs, the sexy lines of the V-dip beside his hips that led straight to his…

“Please, Mom!”

“Hey, Drew, can you go down to my truck and grab the soda? I forgot to bring it up,” Logan asked as if he’d just remembered it.

Even in Emma’s near breakdown state, she saw the gesture for what it was, and it had nothing to do with a beverage run. Drew looked back and forth between the two of them—he knew his chore was not motivated by caffeine.

“Yeah.” After popping off his chair, he ran out of the house.

When the screen door shut with a loud thud, Emma took a deep breath. Her son would be back any second, but this small reprieve was exactly what she needed.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” Logan smiled before taking a large bite out of his burger.

Although her mind knew that this temporary timeout would’ve been best used to figure out a game plan, her body was busy humming over the fact that she and Logan were alone and just a few feet away from each other. A fluttering feeling skittered low in her belly, and her fingers tingled as if they’d fallen asleep and were coming back to life. Actually tingled. She’d completely forgotten that that happened to her when she got…really turned on.

Was it possible she could’ve been in that worked up of a state just from being alone in Logan’s presence? When she lifted her eyes to find out if that was the case, her gaze locked with his. He wasn’t just casually looking in her direction. No, this was a heated
stare
. One she felt everywhere.

Yep. Definite possibility.

The tugging in her belly stirred up to a full-blown ache in her core. The tingle that had only been in her fingertips was now spreading up her arm. New sensations bombarded her senses under the weight of his undivided attention. Her breasts suddenly felt full and heavy. She was fairly certain—without doing a nip check—that the tips of her lady lumps were as perky as they would’ve been had she been wearing a bikini in Alaska. A skittering shiver ran down her spine, stopping when it reached the apex of her legs.

Just when she was about to internally reprimand herself, her inner voice yelled,
Research!

A lightbulb went off in her head. The justification, even if only for her, for staying there with Logan illuminated itself. Nothing had to happen between them, obviously. Her body was hotter and more aroused than it had been in years and all he was doing was looking at her. She could use everything he made her feel in her books.

She just needed to make sure their staying there was actually something he wanted, not something he’d offered out of obligation. Right as she was about to find out, he beat her to the punch.

Clearing his throat, he set his fork down. “I’m sorry that I asked you to stay here in front of Drew.”

Keeping her face as neutral as possible, Emma desperately tried to disguise the immense disappointment that washed over her at hearing his regret. Forcing herself to speak through the waves of sadness over something that up until just seconds ago she hadn’t even known she wanted, she smiled. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll tell him that it’s not going to work out when he gets back. We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow afternoon.”

“No. That’s not…” Logan shook his head, his eyes narrowing. “I didn’t mean that I don’t want you to stay. I do. I
want
you both here.”

Her heart jumped at his words.
Easy, girl
.

“I was apologizing for not asking you privately. It was wrong to spring that on you. I shouldn’t have put you in the position of being the bad guy if you didn’t feel comfortable staying here. Honestly, the idea just came to me and I said it, but I promise, if you do want to stay here, which I hope is the case, that won’t happen again. I will always run things by you before Drew gets wind of it.”

If Emma hadn’t known the man she was staring at for as long and as well as she did—the man who’d rendered her completely dumbstruck—she would’ve assumed he wasn’t for real. What kind of a man not only possessed enough self-awareness and consideration to figure out independently that he’d overstepped some perceived line, but also to acknowledge that fact and then—wait for it—apologize?

Logan Dorsey. That’s who.

It was strange, but somehow, knowing Logan, mainly through Andrew’s having told her about him, made her feel like she knew him better than almost anyone—even though it was through a third party. He was loyal, a man of his word, and honest to a fault sometimes, according to her late husband.

She remembered more than one recounting of how Logan had caused random girls who’d been solely interested in hooking up with a Marine to end up in tears because he didn’t play games. Brutal honesty—her husband said it was the only way Logan knew how to communicate.

Of course, Andrew had been gone for six years now and people did have a tendency to change. But she was hoping that that wasn’t the case now, so she sat up straighter in her chair and rolled her shoulders back.

“Are you just asking us to stay because you feel sorry for us? Because I don’t want or need your pity.”

“No,” Logan answered without hesitation.

Her heart rate sped up. Before she got ahead of herself, she figured she better find out one more thing.

“Then why? You’re a single guy. You have this place all to yourself. Why would you want to give that up for me and Drew?”

Placing his elbows on the table, Logan leaned forward. Whereas his answer to her first question had shot back rapid-fire style, this answer was slow as molasses. Emma found it hard to do anything while she waited for it. Could someone be paralyzed from anticipation? If they could, then that would explain a lot.

She couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe.

“Part of the reason is because I want to spend time with Drew. I’ve missed out on a lot of his life.”

The sincerity in Logan’s eyes would’ve convinced her that he was telling the truth even if she hadn’t known how honest he was. But that wasn’t the whole story; he’d said
part
of the reason. When he didn’t continue, she prompted him.

“What’s the other part?”

Logan’s dark eyes bored into hers. Other than his stare, his expression remained blank. He was breathing evenly in and out through his nose.

Since she had been a kid, Emma had always wished that she could read minds. But she’d never wished she’d possessed telepathic abilities quite as much as in that moment.

“Have you ever wanted something you
know
you shouldn’t?”

Yes!
her inner voice screamed as her head bobbed up and down in silent response. She was afraid if she opened her mouth, she would blurt out exactly how badly she wanted something she shouldn’t—him!—so she pulled her lips between her teeth to keep them shut. It was her own version of sitting on her hands so she didn’t talk with them.

Before Logan had a chance to follow up his obtuse inquiry, the screen door banged against the wall and Drew ran in, soda in hand, with a man who looked eerily familiar, but Emma was sure she’d never laid eyes on him.

“I got the soda.” Drew held up two six-packs.

“Thanks, bud.” Logan turned in his chair.

Drew motioned at the man behind him. “And I met your dad.”

His dad!?
She’d never spoken to Logan about his father directly, but from what she’d heard from Andrew, he had never been in the picture. In fact, she remembered her late husband telling her that Logan had only met the man once. It was after his mom had passed when he was twelve. If memory served, the lowlife had only stuck around for the will reading, and when he discovered that she’d hadn’t left him anything but his sons, he’d taken off again.

Standing from his chair, Logan lifted his chin in acknowledgement of the man who was standing behind her son. “Charlie, this is Emma, and you’ve already met her son, Drew.”

“Emma.” Charlie crossed the room and extended his hand. “So nice to meet you.”

Upon shaking the man’s hand and seeing him closer up, she realized why he looked familiar. Logan and his father had the same eyes. The same mouth. And the same jaw.

“I don’t want to interrupt you. I just thought…”

“Right. Dinner.” Logan briefly closed his eyes.

Emma wasn’t sure what was going on. When he opened them, he handed his father a plate.

“Why don’t you grab a burger?”

It was odd to see the interaction, to see Logan so stiff and formal. He was always pretty self-contained, but now, he seemed to have more walls around him than Fort Knox. He wasn’t being rude. He’d invited the man to dinner, after all. But he seemed cold. Disconnected.

“Burger sounds great.” Charlie sat in the extra chair, and everyone settled in for dinner.

Thanks to Drew, there was no lull in the conversation. As he told them all about Mountain Ridge and filled Charlie in on his bear sighting and his great escape from Camp Pine to see Logan, Emma sat silently still contemplating whether or not she should stay. She played and replayed Logan’s words over and over in her head.

“Have you ever wanted something you
know
you shouldn’t
?”

Her imagination was having a field day with trying to guess what he’d meant by that. She knew that her answer was a resounding yes. Yes. She. Did.

‡