Page 16

SIXTEEN

MJ

Lying on my side in bed, I stared at Logan.

My limbs were wonderfully numb. No man had ever made me orgasm before, and one hand-delivered by Logan Brown was absolutely earth-shattering.

I didn’t know my body could feel this alive. Every nerve hummed like it had finally woken up, and it wasn’t just the way he touched me, though that had been extraordinary. It was the way he looked at me—like I was more than the sum of my parts. Like I wasn’t broken or hesitant, but whole.

Beautiful. Wanted. No one had ever made me feel like that before.

He didn’t rush, didn’t force it. He listened, read my cues, and perfectly delivered what I needed, wrapped in a tidy, mind-melting bow. Then he cleaned us up and wanted to cuddle.

The entire situation felt like a Hallmark fantasy come to life—if Hallmark included deliciously filthy mutual oral.

I laughed to myself. I still couldn’t believe that Logan had followed me—after seeing me with Kenny, he had followed me home just to confront me. Maybe it was a big red flag, but I was quickly realizing that red may very well be my new favorite color.

I giggled at the thought.

I liked this new, unrestrained version of myself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face as he looked back at me.

“You,” I admitted, searching his gorgeous green eyes. “I was just thinking about how grumpy you looked when you came pounding on my front door.”

He frowned and my smile grew. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe. That moron was pawing at you all through dinner.”

“You were jealous,” I teased and wrinkled my nose.

Logan’s arm wrapped around my waist as he pulled me closer. His teeth nipped at my neck. “You’re damn right I was jealous. I actually considered flipping the table.”

“That would’ve been subtle.” A giggle bubbled over as pleasure rippled through me.

His jealousy should have irritated me, but instead it made my heart flutter in a way I didn’t know what to do with. It was probably a little toxic, but I liked the thought of him being jealous over me . It shouldn’t even be possible. For a man like Logan Brown to care enough to be jealous—it was dangerous. Because it made me want more.

“He asked me for an autograph.” His voice was laced with dark humor, quiet in the low lighting of my bedroom. “I almost punched him in the face.”

I smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t. Otherwise I would have had to pretend to be mad at you.”

“Is he someone I need to take care of?” Logan asked.

I shook my head, silently liking this overly protective side of him. “No. Not at all. Dinner was awkward at best, and after I thanked him for the company and practically closed the door on his toes, I think he got the memo that I wasn’t interested.”

Logan inched closer. “I’m glad you didn’t kick me out.”

His arms were strong and warm, and I snuggled closer. “Me too.”

“It turns out, you weren’t lying ...” His lips brushed the top of my head.

I adjusted so I could look at him. “Lying? About what?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “About knowing your way around a dick.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I buried my face in his chest with an embarrassed laugh. “Oh my god! Oh my god.” I peeked up at him to see his eyes crinkled at the corners and a wide smile across his stupid face. “You heard that?”

A rumbling chuckle escaped him. “I’m pretty sure everyone at the Grudge heard you.”

My hands flew to cover my face. “Nope. No, no, no, no, no.” I playfully pushed at his chest. “Get out. You need to leave so I can die of embarrassment in peace.”

He laughed and tightened his arms around me so I couldn’t escape. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still waiting to regain feeling in my legs.”

I bit my lip to hide a proud smile. “It really was okay?”

His face twisted. “ Okay? Hell, it was life-changing. You’ve ruined me forever.”

I swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I just didn’t know if it was okay that we didn’t ... you know, go all the way.”

“Hey,” he soothed, his demeanor morphing from playful to serious. “I meant what I said. Slow is good. That way, if I ever do get to have you, I’ll know I’ve earned you.”

When he’s earned me .

I liked the sound of that. There was honesty and safety in his words.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

The energy in the room had shifted—from desperate need to playful banter to shy stillness.

I was well aware that I was out of my depth with Logan, but somehow he didn’t make me feel bad for being less experienced. I felt empowered.

I closed my eyes and threw up a silent prayer that he genuinely meant the reassuring words he’d said.

Logan broke the silence by shifting topics entirely. “Hey, what do you have going on this weekend? Are you working?”

I mentally flipped through my calendar, though I knew exactly what was looming ahead of me. “I actually have to make a trip to Chicago. I’ll be gone overnight.”

“Oh, girl’s night out in the city or something?” he asked.

I wish .

I shook my head. “It’s a long story, but my father died. Someone needs to take his ashes to Chicago.”

He hummed and nodded. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you sprinkling them somewhere special, or ...”

A wry laugh escaped. “No. Turns out he has a whole other family in Chicago—a wife, kids.” The silence stretched between us, but Logan patiently waited for me to continue. “My father was not a good man—that we already knew. What we didn’t know was that all those business trips were him actually going home to his real life. Turns out, we were his dirty little secret.”

Tiny arrows of hurt and betrayal punctured my heart, but I still wasn’t ready to admit the full truth out loud—he had also killed my mother.

How could someone be so good at faking love? Our father had smiled at us, sat at our dinner table, even provided the occasional hug when we were hurting. But it was all a lie, every last bit of it. And yet ... some traitorous part of me still wanted to believe he cared, even just a little. Maybe meeting them would finally kill that hope—or give it life.

I wasn’t sure which was scarier.

Logan’s protective arms didn’t let me go. “Can’t someone else take the ashes?”

I gently shook my head. “I volunteered, actually.” I looked up, hoping he wouldn’t judge me. “There’s a part of me that’s looking forward to meeting them. I’m so curious. My father was demanding and controlling—manipulative in ways that somehow felt like love. It’s strange, but I feel connected to these people that I’ve never met. I kind of want to see what that’s all about.”

To not be alone in all this pain.

I hated my father for what he’d done to my mother, to us. But a part of me—a traitorous, yearning part—wondered whether meeting them would somehow fill the hollow spaces he’d left behind.

Logan nodded as a warm hand stroked up and down my spine. “That makes sense.”

I exhaled in relief. He didn’t judge me, even if he couldn’t fully understand.

“Do you want company?” he finally asked. “We have a match on Saturday, and I was going to invite you, so I’ll be in Chicago anyway. I can stand there for moral support or man the getaway car, if you need me to.”

His words were simple, but the weight behind them wasn’t. Logan didn’t just offer support; he offered himself. And that terrified me almost as much as it comforted me.

A sharp sting pinched my nose. Did he still think I was a lucky charm?

It was only fair that we were both using each other: me to prove I could move beyond my past and him to get the luck he needed for a winning offseason.

A big part of me wanted to run away and forget all about my father’s other life. An even bigger part needed to meet them.

Alone.

“Can I think about it?” I asked.

Logan pulled me close. “Of course. The offer is good—whenever you need it.”

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling the heavy comfort of his arms as fatigue tugged at my eyelids.

All the reasons that we didn’t make sense danced across my tired brain:

He’s famous, out of my league.

We agreed to be friends.

Once the regular rugby season starts, he’ll be gone, fighting off throngs of eager female fans.

He’s best friends with the scum of the earth.

Girls like me don’t bag men like him.

Ever.

Beneath my ear, his heartbeat thunked in a soothing rhythm.

There may be all those reasons, plus a hundred more, why starting anything with Logan didn’t make any sense, but ... right then and there, in the quiet stillness of my bedroom, he was mine.

* * *

By the time Saturday rolled around, I’d almost convinced myself that the vision of Logan between my legs was a figment of my imagination. The incessant, low throb was an erotic reminder that it had, in fact, happened.

Twice.

And it was freaking incredible.

I stifled a giddy scream and smiled as I crossed the street toward the Sugar Bowl. A piercing whistle caught my attention, and I found Royal leaning against a concrete planter on the sidewalk outside of King Tattoo. The collar of his coat was flipped up against the autumn wind that whipped across the lake.

“Hey,” I called with a wave.

He pushed a finger against his lips and jerked his head. My eyes narrowed, and I scurried toward my brother.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, knowing Royal was definitely up to something.

He grinned and opened his coat, flashing an air horn hanging from the inside pocket.

I rolled my eyes and laughed. “What the heck is that for?”

His eyebrows bounced, and his eyes moved up the sidewalk toward the Sugar Bowl. It was then I spotted Duke, dropping off our sister and giving her a kiss that lasted long enough to make me blush.

When Sylvie turned to go inside, Duke swatted her butt and I smiled. “Don’t be mean to Duke. He’s a good guy.”

Royal kept his attention on Duke as he sauntered up the sidewalk toward us. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

As Duke got closer, Royal gripped his jacket, and I stuffed my fingers into my ears, waiting for him to blast the air horn and make Duke jump out of his skin.

To my surprise, Duke offered Royal a stealthy nod, and instead of blasting the air horn, Royal simply opened his jacket. Without a word, and in one smooth move, Duke pulled the air horn from Royal’s coat and slipped it into his own.

“Morning, MJ,” Duke called and kept his lazy pace down the sidewalk.

Royal grinned.

“What was that ?” I asked.

My brother shrugged. “Like I said, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I rolled my eyes and laughed again. “So you’re working together now?”

Now that the Kings and Sullivans were one, big dysfunctional family, it was getting hard to know where the lines of the feud had blurred. My guess was they were gone forever, but the boys still had fun busting each other’s balls with childish pranks.

Thankfully the label of sweet little sister typically kept me out of the crosshairs. I’d used it to my advantage only once or twice. Either way, I was taking any involvement to the grave.

Like the time Lee convinced me to look the other way when he slipped over-the-counter urinary tract medication into Royal’s drink. The next day Royal’s pee was neon orange, and he was convinced his wiener was going to fall off. Of course he’d come to me, and I’d had to convince him that it was completely harmless.

I chuckled at the memory.

“So who’s got you floating on a cloud?” Royal finally asked.

I blinked up at him, hoping he couldn’t see Logan’s name flashing across my forehead. I tried to look annoyed. “What? Ew.” I watched as Duke disappeared around a corner. “Just happy to see everyone getting along.”

“Mm-hmm.” His stern, disbelieving eyes watched me. “Well, just know that if he breaks your heart, I’ll break his legs.”

A shotgun burst of laughter escaped me. It would be a tough match between Logan and Royal, but the sheer image of it was ridiculous. I wondered whether the rest of the King and Sullivan men would jump to restore my honor.

I had a sneaking suspicion they would.

“I’m good, but I appreciate the offer.” I bumped my shoulder into Royal’s.

He looked me over. “You’re dressed awfully cute to go to work.”

I looked down at my olive-green trench coat. Beneath it I wore a cream-colored knit sweater with a mock turtleneck, medium-wash jeans, and low-cut brown leather cowboy boots with a snip toe.

Maybe I should be offended by his comment, but my outfit was a lot more polished than my work scrubs, so I guessed he wasn’t wrong. Truth was, I’d spent hours last night debating on the perfect outfit to meet the other Kings.

Something cute but effortless. Polished but that didn’t look like I was trying too hard.

I shook my head. It still blew my mind that there was an entire group of people, related to us by blood, living only a few hours away and we had no idea.

“Today’s the day.” I sneaked a peek through my lashes at my older brother. “I’m going to drive out and deliver Dad’s ashes.”

Royal’s hand landed on my shoulder, and he gave me a reassuring squeeze. “You’re the best one out of all of us. I mean that. If it were up to me, that urn would have gotten lost on the side of a highway.”

I shrugged, overwhelmed by sadness for my siblings. They’d experienced the brunt of my father’s manipulations.

I was simply ... forgotten.

Not worth investing time in.

“It’s the right thing to do,” I said.

Royal had always been the one to shield me from the worst of Dad’s bullshit. Royal had never said it, but I knew he saw me as something fragile, something to protect. And maybe that was why I couldn’t bring myself to tell him just how much meeting Dad’s other family meant to me.

Royal pulled me in for a hug. “It’s still hard to believe we didn’t see this coming.”

I wrapped my arms around his middle and squeezed. When I stepped back, I lifted a shoulder. “I guess we would have found out eventually. His will was pretty explicit with who gets what.”

He shook his head. “Still, people can be weird when it comes to money. Maybe keep your guard up a little.”

I shook my head in return. Royal was just being overprotective. “I can’t imagine they’ll feel bad about getting half when it was so much money. I’m sure they’ll feel the same way we all do.” I looked at my watch and bit back a curse. “Yikes. I have to get on the road before traffic gets bad.”

And Logan is waiting for me.

Just the thought of seeing him again sent a thrill through me, even as my brain screamed for caution. He was dangerous—not because he’d hurt me, but because he made me want things I had convinced myself I didn’t need. Things like hope and happiness.

Things like him.

I gave Royal a playful salute. “Later, alligator.”

Royal looked like he was going to say something more, but held back. He didn’t say it, but I could see the worry in his eyes. My brothers had spent years sheltering me, and now I could feel the weight of their unspoken fears pressing down on me. They still thought of me as the baby sister who needed protecting. And maybe they weren’t entirely wrong.

“Just ... be careful,” he said.

I was so sick of everyone treating me like I couldn’t take care of myself. “I’ll be fine.” I jerked my chin toward his shop. “Get outta here and go tattoo a crucifix on someone’s ass or something.”

Royal chuckled and shook his head. “So judgy.”

He winked and turned toward his shop. I turned in the opposite direction, heading toward the Sugar Bowl to load up on coffee and road trip doughnuts before I headed out of town.

As the Sugar Bowl’s bell jingled behind me, I couldn’t shake the mix of dread and anticipation coiling in my stomach. By the end of the day, I’d meet the people my father had chosen over us.

And, somehow, that felt like facing a ghost.