Francesca
“I almost made the worst decision of my life.” Francesca stared out of the window, watching as the city streamed by. It hadn’t been long since she’d left Boston, but it felt a little like a homecoming. Some of the best days of her life had been in this place, discovering a whole other world she hadn’t known existed with Logan. Memories of those beautiful moments filled her mind, blocking out the sounds and sights around her.
Memories of making love to Logan on the campground, riding his motorcycle through the fall leaves, and meeting his people. These moments that she’d kept close to her heart this whole time. Sighing, Francesca glanced out of the window again, noticing those pretty, fire-colored leaves had all tumbled to the ground, leaving the trees naked and empty. They looked like they were reaching for the sun with their empty branches, begging for the spring to come back again.
She wondered if Logan still wanted her. It had been months since he’d even bothered to reply to any of her texts. Even if he still loved her, she did leave him for Davis.
Taking a deep breath, Francesca ran her hands over her swelling belly, feeling the warmth of her son deep inside of her body. He was too small to feel just yet. But she knew he would soon be big enough to feel kicking around in there. And Francesca wanted Logan to be around when he did. “Even if — Even if he doesn’t want me, he should at least be part of his son’s life.”
Nikki sat next to Francesca in the rental, driving like Francesca was an antique glass sculpture that would shatter at a touch rather than simply a lady carrying a baby. Her concern was touching, if a little excessive; Francesca was just happy that Nikki was around to show her where the garage was. She needed the moral support now more than anything.
“It’s going to be fine; he still loves you, I promise.” Nikki patted Francesca’s leg gently, her wrists jangling with a massive assortment of bangles. The sun was beginning to set over the road and the sky turned a deep, rich orange sherbet and wine color, but Nikki was still wearing her sunglasses.
Francesca’s mouth dried up as Nikki slowed to a halt outside of a big, warehouse looking building. There was a sign on the outside that looked like handmade graffiti that read “the Satan’s Chaos Bike and Car Repairs.” The parking lot was all gravel, which Francesca nearly groaned at. Her shoes were not going to like this trek.
“Too bad for the shoes I care more about Logan.”
Heart racing, pounding against her ribs, Francesca stared at the building. Her eyes were too wide, her fingers shaking as she stared at the metal gray siding of the warehouse. “Logan is inside of this building, right now.”
Feeling a little dizzy, Francesca opened the car door and stood up, feeling the icy-cold Boston air steal away all of her heat. It didn’t seem to matter how sensibly she dressed for the weather here, it was never warm enough.
Footsteps on the gravel made crunching noises that woke Francesca out of her trance. The camera crew spilled out of the van that had followed them all the way up there, quickly double-checking their equipment before giving Francesca the sign to go ahead.
But she wasn’t ready to go ahead.
The thought of rushing into the garage and shouting Logan’s name for the TV cameras made Francesca a little ill, but this was her contract. They needed a pretty ending to the season. Since there weren’t going to be wedding bells between her and Davis, she felt she owed them something to close off the final episode with. She’d given them a pretty, tear-filled love confession they would most likely cut into this one. It felt a little bit violating, always having the cameras there for her most vulnerable moments. But it was too late to regret that now.
Right now, she had to focus on Logan and herself and the child that would be theirs.
Holding her hands protectively over her stomach, Francesca stared up at the imposing building, and took a long, deep breath.
# # #
Logan
Piece stopped breathing when he looked outside to see what all of the commotion was about. All of his boys stood around him, pressing closer to the glass, their fingerprints turning to rainbows as the lights from outside shown through them. Every detail of that moment, from the icy cold glass under his fingers to the warm feeling spreading through his chest seemed important. Every little thing about this second was some of the most important of his life.
Because somehow, Francesca Savoy, wrapped up in a massive pile of winter coats and scarves, was standing in front of his store. Lights glittered off of the silver embroidery on her solid white jacket. Her heels sunk into the gravel as she wobbled across the parking lot from the car, her face wary but determined.
She posed herself in front of the well-lit storefront, and it took a moment for Logan to realize why. The cameras. They surrounded her like sharks smelling blood in the water. The lighting must have been particularly good where she stood.
Logan’s heart turned to ice, the blood draining from his face. “Of course she would bring cameras. This is some kind of publicity thing for her. I guess it’s best to just go out there and find out what the hell she wants so I can go back to my life. I’m so fucking tired of these cameras. I don’t know how her family stands them.”
Taking a deep breath, Logan braced himself. Then he pushed the door open.
A flood of light passed over him as he pushed past the threshold, the cold air instantly pulling all of the heat from his body as he stepped out into the cold. Francesca was there, her beautiful body posed in the gravel, her liquid green eyes watching him like a hawk would her prey. Logan could feel a lump form in his throat that he wasn’t quite sure he could speak around. But he needed to try.
“What are you doing here, Francesca?” Logan gestured to the cameras which seemed to all be rolling, pointing at him expectantly. “Did you bring the crew along to make me look like the bad guy again? Because I’m tired of playing the lawless loser for you.”
No matter what Nikki said about Francesca being miserable with Davis, it couldn’t have been true. She didn’t look miserable, standing in the center of the circle of light in the parking lot. In fact, she looked perfect, poised. Just as she always had. Her green eyes were as hard as emeralds as she stared at him, her breath puffing in the cold December air. “Francesca hadn’t even said a damned thing when I sent the bassinet to her. Not a single damned word.”
Heart as hard as ice, Logan stared the woman who had come two thousand, seven hundred miles for some kind of publicity stunt.
Crossing his arms over his chest, Logan waited for an answer.
Francesca seemed to be frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the ground. Her face was empty of any emotion as she stared at him, her mouth moving but no words coming out. Suddenly, tears spilled down her beautiful face. A sob spilled out of her throat and she took one, wobbly step forward.
She ran to him as quickly as a woman in heels could ever run on gravel, her words completely incoherent through her sobs.
His heart twisting, Logan caught Francesca as she nearly stumbled into him. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled him close, the scent of her filling up his senses. It was like heaven to have her arms around him again, and in that moment, the cameras, the shop, and his boys all disappeared in the warmth of her embrace.
“I love you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice so quiet, he almost couldn’t hear her over the thundering in his blood. Taking a step back, Francesca looked up at him, her green eyes so much brighter with tears in them. She seemed to be searching his face for something. “I never should have left you. Davis isn’t who my baby needs to raise him; he needs his father. His real father. I was so stupid to leave you.”
Francesca glanced to the side, fresh tears spilling over her long, black lashes and down her beautiful face. “I made the biggest mistake of my life when I went back to him. I — I would — I want you to come back to me. No matter what that means.” She swallowed hard, her eyes coming to rest on his face again. “Please.”
Logan, caught up in the beauty of Francesca’s face, opened and closed his mouth several times. He seemed unable to answer. The blood rushed hot through his veins, his heart thundering back to life like someone had started up a bike’s engine. Emotion filled up his throat, blocking off anything he might have said.
Francesca’s eyes searched his face for some hint of the emotions that had him all tangled up, but Logan wasn’t even sure he knew how he was feeling. Every cell in his body seemed to be reaching out to Francesca, wanting to wrap her in his arms. But she’d left him.
And then owned up to her mistake.
So Logan did the only thing he could do: wrap his arms tightly around her most precious body, and pray she understood the words he couldn’t seem to say.