Page 48 of Perfect Persuasion (Love’s Second Chance #2)

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

Claire had been in the midst of a dream involving copious amounts of chocolate bonbons and Logan.

A steady, familiar voice brought her back to the surface of reality.

She kept her eyes pressed tightly closed against the sunlight streaming in a window somewhere.

Hadn’t she closed the curtain last night before changing for bed?

If she’d forgotten, she’d inadvertently given the neighbors an unexpected peep show.

“Claire.”

Damn that insistent voice, she thought, feeling equal parts groggy and grouchy from one too many nighttime feedings. Who was it, anyway? It sounded like Logan, but how could that be?

It was Logan.

Her sleep-dimmed mind finally began clearing itself of the nighttime cobwebs and she pried her eyes open. Memories, skin-tingling memories, shot through her mind. Ah yes. Last night.

He hovered over her, looking unfairly handsome and sexy this early in the morning. And also as though he’d indulged in a bath. His hair was damp.

“Morning, Claire,” he drawled, giving her a slow, I-have-you-exactly-where-I-want-you smile.

“Mmm.” Stretching like a cat, she stifled a yawn, never taking her eyes from him. She couldn’t even if she wanted to, not really. “You’re annoyingly cheerful this morning.”

He leaned down and kissed her. “Your fault.”

She kissed him back, stifling the niggling voice inside her head that reminded her she probably had morning breath. “Why is your being annoying my fault?”

Logan sat down on the bed next to her, curling his arm easily around her shoulder. “Not the annoying part,” he said pointedly. “The cheerful part. And it’s your fault because you made me a very happy man last night.”

Last night had been, well, the word incredible came to mind, but it seemed so flat and inadequate.

After the kitchen, they had moved to the bedroom and had spent the night making love until being interrupted by Julie around her feeding time.

Claire actually felt a blush stealing across her cheeks.

God, he made her blush like a teenager. How did he manage to do it?

“As I recall, you were a willing participant.”

His grin widened and he leaned down to kiss her again. “Most willing.”

Somehow, her hands found their way into his hair, and when he would have pulled away, she held him to her. Logan’s kisses had become something of an addiction for her, much like the man himself, an addiction she wholeheartedly wanted to indulge.

“Claire,” he murmured against her lips, his voice sounding oddly gruff.

She continued kissing him, her tongue enjoying a leisurely exploration of the seam of his lips. Conversation didn’t hold nearly as much appeal for her as Logan himself did at the moment.

But Logan was persistent. He pulled back, still close enough to be a temptation. “I think we should talk.”

Uh-oh. Those words were invariably followed by something she didn’t want to hear. Claire pulled his head back down to hers for another kiss, deciding that distraction was likely the optimal tactic. “Let’s not and pretend we did.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to distract me?”

She kissed the corner of his mouth. “Hmm?” Claire adored his sulky lips, couldn’t get enough of them. It seemed that she had only succeeded in distracting herself.

Logan pressed a kiss to her forehead before straightening. “Get dressed, sweetheart. I have breakfast waiting for you downstairs.”

“You made me breakfast?” Warmth blossomed in her chest and seeped through her.

He nodded, looking suddenly like a little boy who was very proud of himself. “Waffles. I found a waffle maker in one of your cabinets.”

Waffles. Claire felt as if she wanted to cry, and just over something as trifling as waffles. It was like her pregnancy all over again. That Logan had taken the time to make her breakfast at all, let alone waffles from scratch, reinforced his wonderfulness in her mind.

“You made me waffles,” she repeated stupidly.

“You don’t like waffles?” he teased her with a devastating grin.

“Of course I like waffles,” she said, feeling foolish.

“Good.” Julie’s pick-me-up-now cry blared over the baby monitor, causing Claire to instinctively begin rising from the bed.

Logan put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me get her. You get dressed and we’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

When Logan was gone, Claire got dressed in autopilot mode, her thoughts preoccupied by wondering what on earth Logan wanted to talk to her about.

Probably something bad, she decided, since he’d made her waffles.

She washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on a bit of blush and lip gloss and headed off to the kitchen.

Her stomach was a ball of tangled, uneasy nerves.

Logan, on the other hand, looked completely calm and self-assured, not to mention sexy, as he cuddled Julie in one arm and set a carton of orange juice on the table with the other.

It was a scene that struck a chord in her.

Logan, barefoot in her kitchen, serving a Saturday morning breakfast with Julie in his arms. God, she loved him.

She wanted to spend every morning like this, the three of them together. She wanted to be free to love him.

“Mommy’s a bit of a slowpoke, but she’s finally here,” Logan confided to their daughter as Claire entered the kitchen. He looked up, giving her a seductive smile that matched the heat in his eyes.

“You’re going to spoil her,” Claire pointed out softly. Of course, she too carried their daughter around all day long, but she needed something to say. She couldn’t just blurt out the words I love you .

Logan raised a brow. “You expect me to believe that you don’t carry her around all day?”

She frowned at him. Okay, so he knew her well. “No comment,” she grumbled, sitting at the table.

He used his free hand to open the aluminum foil covering a heaping plate in the center of the table.

Steam and the incredible aroma of fresh waffles rose into the air.

Claire skewered one on her fork and dropped it onto her plate, smothering it in dark syrup.

Logan sat across from her, Julie still in his arms, watching her with an intensity she found startling.

“I like being with you in the morning,” he murmured. “This feels good. It feels right.”

The bite of waffle en route to Claire’s mouth paused, midair. “What are you saying, Logan?” She knew him well enough to realize that there was something more to his words, a hidden meaning she had to unravel.

“I mean that I love being with the two of you.” He paused, his dark gaze boring into hers. “I want us to be together all the time, as a family.”

“Logan,” she began, about to remind him of all the reasons why he didn’t need to feel obligated to give their daughter married parents.

“I love you.”

Her fork clattered noisily on her plate, sending a thin spurt of syrup onto the table. “What?”

“I know it’s too soon and that you don’t feel the same way,” he said in a rush, looking suddenly very unlike his normal smooth, unflappable self.

“But I had to tell you. I can’t take any more of this seeing you and Julie for a few hours every night.

I want to wake up with you, go to sleep with you.

I want to be here when she cries in the middle of the night because she’s hungry.

I want to be the man in your life, now and forever. ”

“Logan, I—”

“Don’t say anything yet,” he interrupted. “Just hear me out before you turn me down. I’ll take good care of both of you. We can live here if you want, or anywhere else. I realize I’m asking for a great deal, but if you just give me a chance, I promise you’ll never regret it.” He paused. “Marry me.”

It was the proposal she’d been waiting for, the words she’d been waiting to hear, but yet she needed to be certain.

“Are you sure that this isn’t just about wanting to take care of us, Logan?”

“It’s about loving you, both of you.” His gaze darkened. “I can’t live this half-life with you anymore. I want everything or nothing.” Logan took a deep breath when she remained silent. “Take all the time you need to think about it. I don’t need an answer right now.”

“I don’t need time to think about it,” she said instantly. The expression on his face became wary, strained. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

A smile curved her lips. “Yes, a thousand times. I’ll marry you.” Before she was even aware that she was moving, she was in Logan’s embrace, Julie between them.

He kissed her swiftly. “Thank God.”

“I love you, Logan,” she murmured, feeling an immeasurable sense of relief to say the words to him at last.

“You don’t have to pretend, sweetheart. It’s enough that you’ve agreed to be my wife.” Logan’s face was an impassive mask as he looked down at her.

“I’m not pretending.” She reached up to caress his jaw, enjoying the prickly five o’clock shadow against her fingertips. “I love you and I’ve loved you for so long. I was too afraid to tell you because I didn’t think you loved me.”

His mouth descended on hers in a fiercely possessive kiss. It was a kiss that gave and took, a kiss that promised more. After so much pain and uncertainty for so long, knowing that Logan returned her feelings was pure heaven. She was almost too afraid to believe that it was real.

It seemed as if Logan read her thoughts. He broke the kiss to look down at her, searching her gaze. “Is this real?”

“It’s real,” she assured him, blinking to keep the tears from filling her eyes. Apparently her days of being a walking water fountain hadn’t stopped when she’d given birth to Julie.

“Tell me again,” he growled against her lips.

“I love you,” she obliged, grinning like a lunatic and unable to help herself. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you,” he said softly, pulling her closer against him. “How soon can we get married?”

She laughed. “In a hurry?”

He gave her a wry grin. “I’d rather not give you enough time to come to your senses and change your mind.”

Claire sensed that his self-deprecating tone was serious.

“Logan, I’m never going to change my mind.

You are a wonderful man and I love you for everything you are.

I love that you were a foster kid who had nothing and built his own successful company from the ground up.

I love the way you make me feel just by looking at me.

I love how much you love our daughter and how good a father you are.

In fact, there is nothing about you that I don’t love. ”

“Hell.” Logan rested his forehead against hers. “If you don’t stop, we’ll end up on the table and I’d really rather not have Julie for an audience.”

“I’m just trying to drum into your thick skull that I love you.” She feathered her lips across his.

He groaned. “Mission accomplished. Now eat your waffles.”