Page 30 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

“Christ,” he muttered suddenly, looking up—not at Claire, but at Derek. “Did I hear you calling my child the name of a character from The Little Mermaid ?”

Derek looked back at Logan as he pulled a bowl from the cabinet. “Actually, it’s Bambi . And yes, you did.”

Logan raised an imperious brow and at last swung his gaze to Claire. “Might I ask why?”

“The baby kept kicking last night,” she replied, struggling to keep her voice even. This morning scene, with Logan ignoring her in favor of the newspaper, seemed an eerie echo of her marriage to Garrett. It wasn’t what she wanted for herself ever again.

The musical clink of cereal raining into a bowl invaded the silence. “It was incredible,” Derek called over his shoulder. “I’ve never felt a baby kick before.”

“Really,” Logan drawled, still pinning Claire with an inscrutable look. “How nice that you could start with Claire.”

Claire stared. She couldn’t believe the rudeness he was displaying, not only to her but also to his best friend.

He had once again reverted back to a cool, remote stranger.

She found it difficult to reconcile this Logan with the passionate, consumed man who had made love to her so feverishly last night.

Derek didn’t comment on Logan’s rudeness as he brought the cereal over to Claire. “I hope you like this,” he murmured. “Logan only has one kind of cereal.”

Claire didn’t bother looking at the bowl’s contents. “It’s fine,” she told him. “Thank you.”

“What do you want to drink?” he asked, looking eager to be helpful.

“For God’s sake, she’s pregnant, not helpless,” Logan said cuttingly. “Leave off.”

Derek spun on his heel, facing Logan. “What the hell’s the matter with you, Loge?”

Logan’s lips tightened into a harsh line. “Maybe I don’t like you flirting with Claire.”

Derek reeled as though he’d been physically struck. “Jesus, is that what you think?” His fists clenched at his sides. “You’re right, she’s not helpless, but she is carrying your child. I was just trying to show her some respect.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. “Are you saying I don’t?” His voice was deceptively quiet, his tone lethal.

Claire had heard enough. She stood abruptly, the barstool scraping across the tiled kitchen floor. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m not hungry after all.” She rushed to the front hall, retrieved her purse and keys, and slipped out the door as quickly as she could manage.

When she reached her car, she heard the side door slam and turned to find Logan striding toward her. He looked furious, though with her or with Derek, she couldn’t quite tell. Likely, it was a combination of both. She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat and gripped her keys.

“I’m leaving.”

His eyes flicked over her. “Obviously.”

Claire felt dangerously close to hysteria. “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

He leaned forward, bracing a hand on the roof of her car, effectively trapping Claire between his body and the passenger door. “You don’t think what is going to work out?”

“Us.” She swallowed. “I don’t know how we’re going to raise a child together when you can’t even be civil to me after we’ve spent the night together.”

Logan ran his free hand through his hair, his eyes glittering. “Frankly, Claire, I’m the one who has a right to be angry. Not you.”

“I thought that after last night you forgave me.”

“Last night was about revenge,” Logan said coldly, his voice utterly devoid of all emotion. “The sex was fantastic—it always is—but that was all it was. Sex.”

Claire knew he was intentionally being cruel, that he used his callousness as a defense mechanism. But it still hurt. She tried her best to maintain her composure, but it grew increasingly difficult. “I’m not ashamed of you, Logan,” she told him again. “That’s not why I didn’t tell my mother.”

He stared. “I don’t care. Save your explanations. They mean less than nothing to me.”

That stung. Actually, the hurt it induced was more than a mere sting.

It was an aching pang inside her chest. She turned away from him, slamming the passenger door closed and ducking beneath his arm.

“Goodbye, Logan,” she tossed over her shoulder, knowing that if she looked back at him now, she would cave and lose all sense of her pride.

She desperately wanted to go back to him, to force him to listen, to iron out their differences.

But she was also afraid that if she went back to him, he would continue to shut her out, and she couldn’t go through that again. Especially not with Logan.

So she got in her car and drove away.

Logan watched Claire leave without protest. He stood in the driveway long after she had peeled out onto the main road, staring at nothing in particular, hating himself. Hating everything. He felt empty inside, hollow.

Cursing, he stalked back into the kitchen.

Derek looked up, in the midst of putting his bowl into the dishwasher. Suddenly, Logan was spoiling for a fight.

“Don’t,” he bit out, “come between me and Claire again.”

Derek’s mouth twisted in a mocking grin. “Or what, Logan? You’ll kick my ass? Kick me out? Go ahead. Jesus, when did you get to be such an asshole?”

Logan’s fists clenched. “I could ask you the same question.”

Derek slammed the dishwasher closed. “You’re the one treating the mother of your child like an easy lay you brought home from some bar. You might not be aware of it, but women generally like to feel like they mean more to you than just a good screw.”

“You have a hell of a lot of nerve,” Logan growled, closing in on him. “Stay out of my goddamn business.”

“I’m your best friend,” Derek countered, “and when I see you fucking something up, it’s my obligation to tell you.” He flashed a pretty-boy grin. “And you’re fucking this up big time.”

That clinched it for Logan. He threw the first punch, and a knockdown, drag-out brawl ensued right there in the kitchen.

When it was over, Logan had a split upper lip and a black eye.

Derek sported a bruise on his right cheek and a matching black eye.

They looked at each other, both panting for breath.

Two of the barstools had been knocked over in the fight, and a cereal bowl littered the tile in shards.

Logan dragged a hand through his hair, taking in the disarray. “Shit,” he breathed, looking back at Derek. “I’m sorry.”

Derek pressed a hand to his cheek and gave Logan a rueful half-grin. “I’m not really the one you owe an apology, Loge.”

“You won’t give up, will you?” Logan snatched a napkin from the island and pressed it to his bleeding lip. “You’re like a dog with a goddamn bone.”

Derek observed him with a grave expression. “Why are you determined to screw things up with Claire? She’s a good woman. She deserves better.”

Logan balled up the napkin and strode over to the trashcan, tossing it inside with more force than necessary.

“Since when did you become an expert at judging character?” He knew it was a low blow when he said it, but he couldn’t help himself.

Derek paled, making Logan feel instantly ashamed of himself. “Derek, I didn’t mean that.”

“Yes you did,” Derek said, his jaw clenched. “And you’re right. When it came to Trina, I was probably just following my dick. But Claire isn’t Trina. Hell, Logan, she isn’t like any woman I’ve ever met. She’s genuine, sweet, caring.”

Logan felt himself getting pissed off all over again.

Why did Derek insist on extolling all Claire’s virtues?

And why, for God’s sake, was he taking Claire’s side in all this?

He leveled a savage kick at the trashcan and it tipped over, spilling its contents all over the floor.

Hell. Napkins, milk cartons and junk mail skittered across the tiles, mingling with the broken bowl and cereal remnants.

“Christ, what a mess.” He looked up at Derek. “Why can’t you just let this go?”

“Because I’m your friend.” He sighed. “You don’t sit by and keep quiet when I fall off the wagon, right?”

“Right,” Logan allowed, “but that’s different.”

“Not really. Screwing your life up is screwing your life up.”

“I’m not screwing my life up.”

“Yes you are.”

“Damn it.” Logan slammed his fist against the kitchen counter, taking solace in the burst of pain that flared through his hand. “She kept me a secret from her own parents.”

Derek started. “What are you talking about?”

“Her mother still thought her ex-husband was the baby’s father until yesterday when I broke the unfortunate news to her,” Logan said bitterly.

“I guess I can’t really blame her. From what I hear, her ex-husband was a saint if you don’t count his habit of screwing other women.

Perfect job, perfect looks, perfect background.

” He laughed, the sound holding little mirth.

“Can you imagine what she would say? I accidentally got pregnant by a man who used to dumpster dive for supper.”

“Don’t do that to yourself, Loge.” Derek bent down, cleaning up the pieces of the bowl.

“You’re successful. Hell, when I think of how you built your company from the ground up, it amazes me.

Forget about the ex-husband. He’s an ex for a reason.

There has to be an explanation for her not telling her parents. ”

“There might be, but I don’t want to hear it.”

“Get me a trash bag, will you?” Derek continued to methodically pile the slivers of bowl into his free hand. “Don’t blow this. You finally have the opportunity to make yourself the life you’ve been wanting.”

Logan stilled in the midst of retrieving a bag from the cabinet behind him.

Derek’s words hit a chord within him. All his life, from the time he’d been an unwanted kid juggled between foster homes, to the time he’d become a successful advertising executive, he’d wanted a family.

The need to belong, to feel wanted and loved, had haunted him for as long as he could recall.

Even now, he wanted it with a desperation that scared the hell out of him.

But he didn’t have to give in to it. Angry now, with himself as much as with Derek and Claire, he yanked the bag from the cabinet and tossed it at Derek. “You don’t have to clean this up, you know. It’s my mess.”

“I know,” Derek said reasonably, “but you’ve cleaned up my messes often enough.”

“True.” Logan bent too, his knees cracking loudly.

A reminder that he was getting older every minute, too old to be alone.

Or too old to chain himself to a woman who didn’t want him.

He thought again of their week together.

To him, it had been a rare slice of heaven on earth.

To Claire, it had obviously been much less.

Did she suffer him because he was the father of her child?

Was she merely trying to make the best of a bad situation?

Just the thought of it made him feel sick. His hand convulsed on the shard of ceramic he’d just picked up, and he felt a brief pang of pain. Looking down, he realized he’d cut himself. Blood oozed from the cut and dripped down onto the white tiles.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Oh hell.” Derek shoved a wad of napkins at him. “Cover that up before I pass out.”

Logan obligingly pressed the napkins to the cut, wincing as pain shot through his hand. “What the hell am I going to do, Derek?”

“I suggest you apologize to Claire.” Derek finished cleaning the floor and stood. “But I have a feeling you’re going to have to work this one out on your own.”

That, Logan thought grimly, was precisely the problem.