Page 26 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

Logan felt his grin slip a little and his body tense. She was right. Opening up to anyone, even Derek, was not necessarily easy for him. But it made him uncomfortable that she had noticed.

“Don’t,” Claire commanded gently, sliding her arms around his waist.

“Don’t what?” But he was being deliberately obtuse. He knew exactly what she meant, which brought him to the second thing that scared him shitless. That Claire seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

Damn it.

“Don’t get all distant with me. It’s too late for that and you know it.”

Again, she was right. “I’m just not good at this kind of thing,” he grumbled, feeling unaccountably embarrassed.

Claire gave him a soft smile that sent another shaft of heat directly to his already stiff dick. “I like that you’re trying it with me.”

Ah God, he was a goner. He leaned down to kiss her again but was stopped by her gasp of shock. Her hands flew to her belly, sending a sickening spear of alarm slicing through him.

“What is it? What’s the matter?” He gripped her wrists without realizing it, fear paralyzing him.

“Nothing.” A sudden, blinding smile lit up her face. “The baby moved.” She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her belly. “Feel.”

The fear subsided, replaced quickly by an incredible, gut-wrenching sense of awe. He looked down at his large hands splayed against the crisp white button-down shirt she wore, her small hands atop his. And then he felt it, their baby stirring against his fingertips.

He wanted to say something, but emotion choked him, rendering him completely speechless. His gaze flew to Claire’s and he knew she could see in his eyes the whirlwind of feelings sliding through him. Wonder. Love. Pride. He felt something wet slide down his cheek.

A tear, he realized. For the first time in his life, he was crying, and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Claire leaned up to kiss him and his arms closed around her, crushing her against him. He felt like a drowning man being offered a life vest.

“Thank you for this,” he whispered hoarsely. “Thank you.”

When Logan pulled into Sophie’s driveway a few hours later and Claire spied the Volvo already parked there, the happy bubble surrounding her popped. Her parents.

Logan parked behind the Volvo and turned to Claire as he cut the engine. “Sophie has visitors?”

His gaze was inquisitive, but she knew he could sense the change that had come over her. She nodded, feeling miserable. “My mother and father.”

“Ah.” He raised a brow at her. “Something tells me you aren’t exactly pleased about them being here.”

“Maybe we should just go to your place for a little bit,” she suggested hopefully. Facing her mother was the last thing she felt like doing right now, especially since Anne had yet to discover that Logan was the baby’s father, not Garrett.

“If that’s what you want,” Logan said.

He was being so understanding about it, so uncharacteristically understanding, in fact, that it made her feel guilty. She wasn’t ashamed of Logan. So why should she hide him from her mother and father? Obviously they would have to meet at some point.

“No.” She stopped him with a hand. “On second thought, let’s just go inside.”

He studied her intently. “Are you sure?”

She nodded again, even though she wasn’t sure at all. But hiding wasn’t really an option. Was it? No, she told herself firmly, it wasn’t.

So she got out of the car and headed toward the trunk. Logan beat her to it, refusing to allow her to carry either her suitcase or her bag.

“I’m not incapacitated, you know,” she said pointedly, slamming the trunk closed.

He gave her a half-grin. “I didn’t say you were.”

Claire frowned at him. “No, but you act like you think I am.”

“No.” Logan’s grin escalated into a slow, heart-stoppingly sexy smile. “I act like I want to take care of you. Because I do.”

His words should have enraged the independent woman inside her. But they didn’t. In fact, they made her feel all warm and fluttery inside. Logan turned on his heel and headed for the house, leaving her no choice but to follow in his wake, stunned by him yet again.

Trevor was at the front door, holding it wide for Logan to enter. Still playing the part of chivalrous knight, Logan gestured for Claire to precede him and followed her inside the house. Trevor introduced himself to Logan, and the two men shook hands before Trevor pulled Claire aside.

“Your mother’s in the kitchen,” he whispered. “She doesn’t know you’re here, so you still have time to hide.”

Claire laughed and patted her brother-in-law’s shoulder. “Thanks for the heads-up, but I’m trying to be brave.”

Logan turned back to Claire. “I’ll take this up to your room for you.”

Claire thanked him and then focused on Trevor again. “Where’s Soph?”

“In the kitchen with your mother.”

“Where’s my dad?”

“Not here.” Trevor looked down at her, concern in his golden-brown eyes. “Golfing, I think. I can distract your mother if you want to go.”

“I have to face her some time,” Claire offered. “In fact, I might as well get it over with now. Can you keep Logan occupied for a couple minutes?”

At his assent, Claire headed for the kitchen and the showdown that was about to ensue with her mother.

Anne looked typically perfect, her ice-blonde hair cropped in a chin-length bob, her makeup applied just right, her pantsuit a light blue that complemented her eyes.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea with Sophie when Claire entered.

“Well.” Anne looked up, setting her teacup in its saucer with a dissonant clink. “How was the trip you forgot to mention you were going on?”

Claire knew from the clipped tone of her mother’s voice that this wasn’t going to be pleasant. Steeling herself, she crossed the hardwood floor and sat next to her sister. Sophie gave her an apologetic look.

“The trip was amazing, Mom,” Claire finally said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you about it. It was kind of a last-minute thing.”

“Was it business?” Anne asked coolly.

“No.”

“Claire.” Anne frowned at her. “I’m at my wit’s end with you. You’re having Garrett’s child and yet you go off on vacation with another man. What happened to you?”

“Mom,” Sophie chastised.

“It’s okay, Soph,” Claire said quietly. “I do owe her an explanation. Mom, things aren’t exactly the way you think they are. What I mean is—”

“Is he here?” Anne rose from her chair so quickly that she nearly sent it toppling to the floor. “I’d like to give that man a piece of my mind.”

“Mom.” Claire rose too, rushing after her mother, who had plunged into the entrance hall where Logan stood talking with Trevor.

But Anne was a woman on a mission. She marched right up to Logan, her low heels clicking on the floor. “I’d like to know what you think you’re doing, breaking up my daughter’s marriage,” she demanded, sounding every bit the self-righteous mother she was.

Logan’s eyes widened, flying briefly to Claire before returning to Anne once more. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you. You must be Claire’s mother. I’m Logan Monroe.” He extended his hand, looking as smooth and unruffled as he sounded.

“Of course I’m her mother,” Anne snapped. “And I’m well aware of who you are, you home wrecker. She’s pregnant with her husband’s child, for God’s sake.”

Logan stilled, his gaze flying back to Claire.

Her breath seemed to freeze in her lungs at the look of naked hurt she saw for just a moment before he hastily hid it behind a mask of composure.

“Is that what she told you?” he asked, his voice deceptively soft.

Although he addressed Anne, he never took his accusing gaze from Claire.

“Of course that’s what she told me,” Anne responded, obviously annoyed. “What else would she tell me?”

“Logan,” Claire began, her voice pleading.

He broke eye contact with her, looking back at Anne. A self-mocking smile curled his sensual lips. “That I’m the father of her baby.”

“What?” Anne looked back at Claire, aghast. “Is this true?”

“Yes,” Claire affirmed, looking back at Logan. He, however, refused to look at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Claire?”

“Yes, Claire,” Logan chimed in, his voice sounding rather nasty. “Why didn’t you?”

“I…” she faltered. “The timing never seemed right.” As excuses went, it was a lame one, and she knew it, but it was really the truth. In a way.

“The timing.” Anne gestured wildly. “You’re five months pregnant. When was the timing going to be right?”

“I was going to tell you in the kitchen,” Claire defended herself, “but then you stormed off into the hallway to attack Logan.”

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to be going,” Logan broke in tonelessly. “It was nice meeting you all.”

With that, he spun on his heel and strode out the front door. Claire rushed after him, knowing she needed to explain. She knew he’d been hurt by her mother’s revelation, and she knew she couldn’t let him leave like this.

She slammed the door behind her, hoping her mother would take the hint and butt out of the situation, and rushed after him as fast as her condition would allow. “Logan,” she called out. “Wait.”

He was already at his car, the door open, but he didn’t get inside. She slowed down and approached him hesitantly, uncertain of what reaction to expect from him.

“Tell me one thing, Claire,” he said, his voice low, almost guttural.

“What?” She wanted to reach out to him, touch him, smooth the hardness from him.

He skewered her with a glare. “Are you ashamed of me?”

“No.” She did reach out to him then, unable to help herself, taking his hand in hers. He didn’t pull away, but he remained unresponsive. “God no.”

She knew how much that question must have cost him, and she knew too where it had come from. For all his outward show of aloof calm, he was still uncomfortable with his past. That he was so vulnerable touched her beyond measure.

“You know me better than that,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand.

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Then why? Why keep it a secret from your own mother?”

“It’s complicated, but it has nothing to do with you,” she assured him. “My relationship with my mother is difficult to explain. I just didn’t know how to tell her that I was having your child and not Garrett’s. But it has nothing to do with—”

“Claire, just shut up.” Tightly restrained fury tinged his voice. “I have to go now before I say something I’ll regret.”

“Logan,” she implored, hating to allow him to leave when he was still so angry with her.

He tore his hand from her grasp. “I have to go. Now.”

With that, he slid into his car and slammed the door closed. She flinched, stepping back as he revved his engine and all but peeled out of the driveway. Claire watched him leave. He didn’t look back. Not once.