Chapter Thirteen
Wet licks on his hand woke Logan. Jiggy had his paws on the edge of the bed and lapped away at his fingers. Sun streamed in his windows, surprising him. Scratching the dog’s head to distract him, he glanced at the clock.
Seven a.m. He’d slept for more than three hours and later than usual.
Becky burrowed into his side, bringing back the memory of the night. He stroked her hair, his chest warming at the memories. She was the reason he’d slept. Something about feeling her alive and breathing in his arms relaxed him, held the nightmares back.
Soft, pitiful cries pierced his thoughts.
Sophie. That’s why Jiggy had woke him—he’d seen the dog let Becky know when the baby woke from her nap before. Now he’d have to get Becky up.
You could get Sophie for her. Try it. You’ve been able to hold her while riding.
But that was outside. His claustrophobia didn’t kick in outside.
The baby’s cries pitched up and Becky frowned in her sleep. Damn, she was tired. Okay, he eased his arm out from under her, slipped from the bed, and headed into the other room.
Sophie twisted on her back, her little face scrunched up, hands fisted. She drew her knees up then kicked straight out.
Pick her up. Just take her to her mom.
But she’s so little. So fragile. The room heated. Buzzing started in his ears, and air thickened. Made it hard to breathe.
He needed air.
“Logan.” Becky laid her hand on his back. “I’ve got her. Go shower or get some coffee.”
Damn, he hadn’t heard her come in.
Becky took her hand away to reach for the baby.
Coward. She’s just a baby, an innocent child. “Wait.”
She froze leaning halfway into the crib. Sophie had gone quiet at their voices, her huge eyes watching them both.
Logan unclenched his hands and softened his voice. “I want to pick her up. I have to be able to do this.”
Her eyes melted into tenderness. “Are you sure?”
He dragged in the heavy air, forcing himself to keep breathing. “Yes.”
Becky pulled back.
Logan rubbed his sweaty hands on his pants. It was ridiculous, he could handle a terrified horse that had been abused and teach the creature to trust him. He’d pulled injured friends from enemy fire, rescued captured Marines and protected civilians.
Becky’s hand settled on his back. “I could pick her up and hand her to you.”
There was zero judgment in her eyes or voice. Just warm support as she tried to make this easier for him. “I should be able to do this. She’s just a baby.” Frustration clawed at him.
“When Sophie was born, they put her in my arms, and I was overwhelmed with love and fear. Here was this tiny little human, so perfect and totally, 100 percent relying on me for everything. Once we were home, I was so tired. But when I fell asleep, I had these awful dreams where I would take Sophie some place and forget her. I’d wake up in total terror, my heart pounding, couldn’t breathe. I’d leap out of bed and check her basinet.”
Logan leaned his forehead against hers.
“I sound stupid, don’t I? Thinking my little story somehow compares to what you’ve been though. I’m sorry.”
“No.” His throat was raw. “You are so much more than beautiful. So much. You make me feel sane.” How long had it been since he hadn’t felt broken and unworthy?
“You are sane. Insane is screaming, jumping around, and running like a lunatic from bees. That just stirs them up. You’re dealing with your issues. You got help. I hid from mine because I hated remembering that I’m allergic. So irrational. I didn’t cause my father and brother to die by getting stung and having an allergic reaction, but my brain won’t get the message. My response is crazy.”
He wrapped his arms around her. Everything in him wanted to protect Becky from ever experiencing pain like that. And that meant he needed to hold Sophie with natural ease. The social worker would come to the house; he had to make this look real.
Sophie let out a bellow of impatience. Logan released Becky and turned.
Don’t think, just do it.
He leaned over, slipped his hands beneath her and lifted her up. She stopped bawling, but her lip quivered, and her wet eyes stared at him. A little shudder wracked her body.
Alive. She’s alive. Safe.
He had her head in one hand and her butt and back in the other. “You want your mama, don’t you?”
“Gah.” She kicked his stomach.
“Why do I think you’re saying ‘Let’s ride’ rather than ‘I’m hungry’?” Thinking of being on a horse with Sophie helped keep a lid on the bubbling anxiety hovering at the base of his spine. He turned, ready to hand her off.
Becky’s fingers brushed his, creating a spark between them. She lifted her head, her eyes catching his and holding him while the baby was cradled between them. She felt it too—the connection growing and strengthening.
He wanted to kiss his wife. Hell, he wanted to give her more than just this pretend marriage. She’d come to him on the porch, let him take her the way he’d needed her freely, holding nothing back. And what did he do for her? He hadn’t even taken her out, treated her the way a man should treat a woman.
Becky stroked his hand. “You can let go. I have her.”
She wasn’t getting it. “I thought I’d want to.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” This moment stretched, wrapping around them, just Logan with his wife and step-baby.
“What’s happening here?” She whispered it as if afraid to break the spell.
“You’re turning me and my world inside out. You make me want to be more than your temporary husband.”
“Maybe it’d be better to stick to our agreement.”
The hurt building in her eyes shamed him and he didn’t know what the fuck to do. “I care about you. How about we take these next two months and see what happens? See if what we have is real and possible? No promises, no pressure.” Yeah, way to woo her.
“Sure. We’ll do that. No pressure.”
“Let’s go on a date tonight. Just casual, we’ll go to Spinners, a friend of mine owns the bar. We’ll dance, and if you ask real nice…maybe I’ll show you my skills on the mechanical bull.” He reconsidered as he heard it come out of his mouth. She deserved better than a sports bar. “Or I could take you to a nice dinner.”
Her expression cleared as excitement filled her eyes. “I’d rather go to your friend’s bar. It sounds like fun.”
Better. This was better. “It’s a date.”
…
Becky’s nerves danced and popped as they went into the bar. Logan had on dark jeans and a thin charcoal sweater pushed up to his elbows. He smelled awesome, soap and that richer male scent that was pure Logan.
A date. They were on a date.
Logan bent close to her ear. “That skirt you’re wearing is distracting the hell out of me.”
Her skin tingled. “That was the plan, cowboy.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t ravish you in my truck.”
“Hmm, not sure I would have objected.”
Logan tugged her into his body, his eyes growing serious. “Bad as I want you, when I make you come, it’ll be in private.”
Spinners was huge. Her gaze caught on the big mechanical bull surrounded by mats to the left of the door. It was currently roped off, a huge dude wearing chaps and a menacing expression deterring anyone who tried to breech the barrier. She took in the rustic wood beamed ceilings, plank floors, and a gleaming bar on the right. For a Sunday night, the place was pretty full.
“Logan!” A voice boomed through the room. A large man strode up to them.
“Mac.” Logan did the hand shake, half hug thing. “How you been?”
“Can’t complain. Now who is this beauty?” His dark eyes landed on her.
“This is Becky, my wife.”
Mac’s craggy face blanked for a second. “You son of a gun, you’re married? To this lovely woman?”
“Yep.”
Becky held out her hand. “Nice to meet you, Mac.”
“Huh.” The older man ignored her hand and engulfed her in a bear hug. Setting her down, he grinned. “How’d Logan lasso a pretty little thing like you?”
She laid her hand on the man’s arm. “Actually, I lassoed him. He never saw it coming.”
Mac threw his head back and laughed. Wiping his eyes, he slapped Logan’s shoulder. “You’ve done good. Come on, let’s get you two some drinks.”
Mac waved off the bartenders as Becky slipped onto a barstool. Logan stood by her, his arm draped across the back of her stool. “Mac, Logan tells me that you own the bar. It’s nice.”
“Sure do. Bought it after I stopped bull riding.” He set a glass of white wine in front of Becky and handed Logan a beer.
She sipped her wine, enjoying the chance to let loose a little since Pam was giving Sophie a bottle tonight. “So that mechanical bull over there in the corner? Is that just for show?”
The older man grinned. “You want to ride it?”
In this skirt? Becky didn’t think so. “Another time. But Logan’s been bragging to me that he can stay on it.”
Logan’s head snapped around. “Are you doubting me, sugar?”
“Just saying that I think a man ought to be able to back up his words. Am I right, Mac?”
Mac’s booming laughter filled the bar. “Son, you got yourself a whole heap of trouble in this one.”
Logan’s eyes gleamed “Why don’t you warm up that bull.” He took Becky’s hand. “I’m going to see if I can wear my wife out a little on the dance floor.”
“Ha.” One sip of wine and Becky was feeling feisty. “What do you suppose my talent was in pageants?”
“Looking hot?”
She rolled her eyes. “Dance. I took years of dance classes. I was good enough that I almost won a trip to see the San Francisco Ballet in one of my pageants. I planned to take my mom, but, unfortunately, Ava beat me that day and I came in second.” A poignant memory washed over her. “Mom and I talked about saving up and going when she got well. We spent hours dreaming about it, looking at websites and planning…” Trailing off, she realized Logan had stopped halfway to the dance floor.
His eyes softened. “You can go in memory of your mom. You’ll have the money.”
She didn’t want to talk about the money, the contract, or her mom. Not now when she was on a date. Tonight she wanted to dance, laugh, and make Logan want her. Crave her as much as she craved him. Shrugging off the memory, she raised her eyebrows. “Are you trying to get out of dancing with me? Afraid you can’t keep up?”
Heat leapt into his gaze. “Let’s see your moves, pageant girl. Maybe you can win first place with me.”
“Maybe?” Recalling the first time they kissed after she’d done her beauty pageant walk, she flash him her winning smile. “You don’t have a prayer, cowboy.” She tossed her hair and rolled her hips as she headed to the dance floor with his gaze searing her back.
Logan caught up to her, pulling her into his arms. “Swear to God, you walk like that again in that short skirt, and I’m going to drag you into Mac’s office, lock the door, bend you over a table and rip your panties off. Again.” He sucked in a breath. “Christ, I’m rock hard for you.”
She’d made men want her before, but with Logan, it was different. He wanted her to sleep in his arms like she was special enough to be held and cherished. “Then what will you do? You know, once you rip my panties off?”
He narrowed his eyes, and his hand tightened on her lower back. Leaning to her ear, he growled, “First I’ll slide my cock into you, slowly, letting you adjust. Letting you feel how hot and hard I am. Then you’ll do that sexy little whimper and I’ll know you want more.”
She squeezed her thighs together. She’d meant to taunt him, but he was torturing her.
He groaned. “Don’t lick your lips like that.”
She hadn’t even realized she’d done it. “What next?”
He stroked his hands to the curve of her hips. “I’ll hold you like this from behind, and slam into you deep and fast until you come so hard, no other man will ever be enough for you. Only me.”
Streaks of hot pleasure ripped through her. “Crap.”
“What?”
“My panties are wet.”
His eyes blazed with possessive heat. “Exactly how I like them.”
…
For a week after her date night with Logan, Becky had tiny clues that he was up to something, but she’d never in a million years have guessed she’d find herself in a stunningly beautiful suite at the Fairmont Heritage Place in San Francisco. Peeling her gaze from the view of the bay, she said, “I can’t believe you did this.”
“There’s more.” Logan took her hand and led her past the sitting room to the bay view bedroom and retrieved the dress from the closet. “Pam said it would fit you.”
Gasping, she fingered the beaded champagne colored cocktail dress. “Logan!” She’d been sewing pageant dresses since her teens and recognized quality, probably the creation of a high-end designer. She was too scared to look at the tags hanging from it. “It’s exquisite.” Snatching her hand back, she looked up into the proud glint in his light green eyes. “You did all this? The private plane, bringing me to San Francisco? The dress?” Everything had happened so quickly today, she still hadn’t caught her breath.
“Pam and Pricilla helped me with all the arrangements, including getting the tickets.”
Her heart stuttered. Anticipation and hope wound in her stomach. Pam had descended on her this morning, helping her and Sophie pack while refusing to tell her why. Her sister-in-law just kept insisting it was her job as the nanny. Then the limo, the plane ride, another limo….and now she was thrown another surprise. “What tickets?”
Returning the dress to the closet, Logan pulled her against him. Cupping her face, he said, “The ballet. It’s Cinderella. I don’t know shit about ballet, but that’s seems fitting. For this weekend, I want to be your prince. I can’t bring your mom back, but I can take you to the ballet the two of you dreamed of attending.” He lifted her left hand and touched her mom’s rings. “Tonight when we watch that ballet together, she’ll be with you.”
Her stomach bottomed out as her heart went into free fall—right into love with her husband, the man who surprised her with this extravagant trip just so she could feel close to her mom again. “Logan, thank you.”
He smiled. “We’ll have tonight together. After the ballet, a chef is cooking us dinner, and we’ll eat on the balcony overlooking the bay.”
It sounded perfect.
“In the morning, we’ll take Sophie and the nanny—”
Laughter bubbled around the lump of pure happiness in her throat. “Quit calling your sister that.” It touched her how much Pam was doing for her. She and Sophie had their own room and Pam seemed delighted to get so much time with the baby. Which reminded her. “Thank you for bringing Sophie.” It made her feel better, being near her daughter and able to feed or comfort her.
Fierceness weighed down his brows. “We’re not leaving your daughter behind. She’s a baby and needs you. Besides there’s no way you’d have gotten on that plane without her. If we were staying close by, then maybe we could have snuck away for a night and left her in Pricilla and Pam’s care.”
Her heart just kept going in that free fall. It didn’t even phase him to include Sophie. He held her more and more now, or laid on the floor, playing with her and Jiggy. But what really got her was that her baby’s welfare was important to him.
“Anyway,” he went on. “Tomorrow we’ll take Sophie out to see the city before we fly home.”
A riot of emotions erupted in her chest. Throwing her arms around his neck, she went up on her toes. “You’re the best husband ever. I think you should win a prize.”
His grin turned wicked. “Oh I will, sugar. I’m taking the prettiest woman out on the town, bringing her back here to feed her, and then I’m going to claim my prize.” He slid his hand around her hip, his fingers clamping possessively. “Slowly, with careful attention to every bit of skin I reveal as I peel that dress off you.”
Looking up into his light green eyes, Becky really did feel like Cinderella. For the moment, she had it all, everything she ever wanted.
Becky had a home and a family. She belonged.
But what would happen when the clock struck midnight or, in their case, the three months were up?