Page 35 of With a Cherry On Top

And sheis.

Because as much as I tell myself I won’t, as much as IknowI shouldn’t...fuck yes I’ll be online tonight.

I pull into my driveway,cutting the engine with a yawn. The late afternoon sun casts long shadows across the pavement, warm and golden, and there—planted right on my front steps like he owns the place—is Logan.

He’s impossible to miss—broad-shouldered and scowling. The sunlight skims the sharp angles of his face, catching on the scruff lining his jaw and the loose tie of dark waves at the nape of his neck. He’s in his usual leather jacket, jeans stretched tight over his massive thighs.

What’s he doing here? I don’t dare hope he’s decided we should actuallytalk, so...is he here to see Sadie?

When I open my door, he lifts a hand in a lazy salute. “Where’s my favorite niece?”

I grab my bag and step out of the car. “With Josie’s parents. They should be dropping her off soon.” I say, climbing the steps.

He rises to his full height—taller than me by a few inches, built like he wrestles grizzlies for fun. My little brother who’s not so little. He nods at my bag. “How was it?”

Oh, sothat’swhy he’s here.

To check on me, on the job. To make sure I don’t fuck up and create problems for him.

“It was...” I think of Charlotte’s snobby friends, the weird dynamic between Beatrice and her daughter, the fact that I’m counting down the seconds before I get to visit her page on TOP.Words likeconcerningandintoxicatingroam through my mind, but I shove them down. “Good, good.”

He doesn’t look convinced.

“Were you waiting long?”

“Five minutes.”

I unlock the door and push it open, gesturing for him to come inside. He follows me in, shutting the door behind us as I toe off my shoes and shrug out of my jacket.

“You sure today was good?” he asks, his eyes sharp on me.

I hang my bag on a hook and make my way into the living room, then walk through the small corridor to the kitchen. “Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. You have that face.”

I pause, squinting. “Face?”

“Yeah.” He runs his tongue over his teeth. “A face like you did some shit.”

I grab a water from the fridge and twist the cap off, drinking deeply. He doesn’t say anything, just leans a shoulder against the counter and waits with his arms crossed.

“Nah. No shit was done.”

Someshit was done.

“Look, I don’t need to tell you that Ian and Amelie are very dear to Primrose. And whatever is important to her is important to me.”

My grip tightens slightly on the bottle, but I cover the ripple of unease with a chuckle.

“What’s funny?”

“The way you talk about them. Like they’re just Primrose’s friends.”

“They are.”

He can’t be for real. “They only gave me a shot at the job because ofyou, Logan. And besides, you spend all your time with them. Or Shane and Heaven from the bakery.”

Logan just shrugs, ever the unreadable fortress of a man.