Page 16 of Savoring Christmas (Sugarville Grove #8)

LOGAN

L ogan hadn’t been ready for the night to end when the class wrapped. So as he walked Mia to her car, he surprised himself by asking her if she’d want to join him for a glass of wine. “We could go to my place.”

Mia shifted Cannoli’s small carrier in her arms. “Are you sure? I’ve got her with me. Is your home dog friendly? What about your cat?”

Logan peeked into the carrier at the little black-and-tan face peeking back at him. “Matilda will be affronted, but that’s kind of her natural state anyway. But if anyone can win her over, it’s Cannoli.”

The drive was short, the roads quiet under a pale wash of moonlight.

He drove slower than usual, not wanting to lose Mia, as she followed behind him.

Once they reached his house, he parked in the garage and then went out to greet his guests.

Mia had let Cannoli out of her carrier and she was currently doing her business near the large oak tree.

“You sure it’s all right to bring her inside?” Mia asked, peering at the front of his house. “Your home seems very nice.”

“Come on in,” Logan said. “She can’t hurt anything.”

He unlocked the front door and ushered them out of the cold.

Logan caught a flicker of worry in Mia’s expression as she stepped inside, Cannoli tucked against her chest. Was she thinking of her own one-room apartment above the restaurant?

Comparing it to his remodeled, decorated home?

Would his home make her feel inadequate?

He really hoped not. Because the more time he spent with Mia, the more he could envision her here with him, making memories and building a life together.

“What a beautiful room,” Mia said.

“Ivy MacRae helped me put it all together after the remodel. She’s really good. From Willow and Fern.”

“Sure. I’ve seen her shop but haven’t gone in. Obviously. Given the state of my apartment.”

“Like you said, it’s a temporary space.”

“Though four years later, here I still am,” Mia said.

He pulled a fleece blanket from a basket by the fireplace and placed it near the hearth. “Cannoli might like to curl up in front of the fire.” He flicked on the gas fireplace.

The puppy trotted happily over to the blanket, curling into a tiny ball of fluff and closing her eyes.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Logan said to Mia. “I’ll open some wine. Red or white?”

“Red sounds perfect for a cold night.”

She followed him into his kitchen and actually gasped. “Logan, my goodness. It’s gorgeous.”

He watched as her gaze took in the deep navy-blue cabinetry accented with polished brass hardware and light, veined marble countertops.

She walked over to the spacious farmhouse sink and ran her fingers over the brass fixtures.

Then, she looked up at the exposed wooden beams that ran across the ceiling and textured stone walls.

He chose a cabernet from his wine rack and pulled the corkscrew from the drawer next to the sink.

“Thanks. Sadly, it doesn’t get used much,” Logan said. “But now, knowing how to make a few dishes, that might change.”

She laughed as she ran a hand over the island’s surface. “We might need to add a few more to your repertoire.”

“Maybe a private lesson or two right here in my kitchen?” Logan handed her a glass of wine.

“A private lesson? That’s an interesting idea.” To his surprise, she stepped onto her tiptoes to give him a quick kiss. “But how would you pay my steep fees?”

“What exactly will I owe you?”

“More kisses?” Mia asked, a flirtatious twinkle in her eyes.

“I happen to be rich in kisses.” To prove it, he gave her another. He held her hand as he led her back to the living room.

They settled on the sofa with their wine, Cannoli dozing contentedly at her place by the fire.

“I don’t know what could have kept Patty from work tonight.” Mia said. “I hope the children aren’t sick.”

“Me too,” Logan said. “We could go out there tomorrow morning? Make sure everything’s okay, invite them to my mom’s cookie decorating party.”

“Do you know where she lives?”

“Mom told me she’s renting a house out on Stone Creek Lane. I haven’t been out there in a while but I could find it. I can’t believe that place is even livable. It was rundown when I was a kid.”

Her gaze dropped to her glass. “I wish there was more we could do.”

“Me too.”

She was quiet for a moment, then took a small sip of wine. “It seems so unfair that some have so much and others so little.”

“My mother always says, ‘with privilege comes responsibility,’” Logan said. “She and my dad have always lived that way. In a community like this, we try and take care of our own. But people fall through the cracks, mostly because no one truly knows their situation.”

She nodded, playing with the fringe on one of his throw pillows. “Do you think Patty will take offense to us just showing up? It’s kind of intrusive.”

“We’re new friends checking up on her. Hopefully she’ll see it for what it is.”

“I can tell you from experience that a woman like Patty has learned the world is untrustworthy and cruel. She won’t know if she can trust us.”

“Is that how you are? After what happened?” Logan asked.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“You can trust me. And my family. But I understand being wary. I’m naturally suspicious of people.”

“Even though your life’s been perfect?” Mia asked.

That stung a little. “Not perfect, but blessed, yes. My parents had struggles through the years. You don’t own a farm without experiencing some lean years. That was one of my arguments for college and law school. Stability.”

“Have you found that?”

“I have. I make a good living,” Logan said. “Should I be ashamed of that?”

She flinched, clearly taken aback. “Not at all. I’m just saying that some are dealt an easier hand than others.”

He nodded, sipping his wine, his thoughts tumultuous. All these years he’d thought being an attorney and owning a home would be attractive qualities to a woman. Right now it felt the opposite.

Cannoli stretched and yawned and came to sit between them on the couch. Logan stroked her soft ears, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry. I’ve offended you,” Mia said.

“You have actually.” His voice was tight.

“I didn’t mean to. Sometimes my bitterness comes out way too loudly. It’s just that I had so many dreams and they all went up in flames.”

He softened a little. “I understand.”

“I find it hard not to feel envious of other’s good fortunes. I’m not proud of it.”

“Yes, but it’s understandable.” He paused. “Does it make you uncomfortable—seeing my home?”

“Not uncomfortable. Inadequate.”

“You shouldn’t feel that way. None of what happened to you was your fault.

Anyway, I’m certainly not one to judge someone on their earthly possessions.

I see the woman you are, with or without a large bank account.

And, frankly, you amaze me. You should be proud of yourself for starting over, especially after what happened. ”

“I had a friend’s help. My best friend from high school. Sharon. I mentioned her the other night. She married a patent attorney.”

“They do well,” Logan said.

“Yes, and she was generous. If not for her, I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You’ve been a good friend to her, I imagine. As she has been to you. Generosity between friends is something that comes from deep nurturing on both sides.”

“I suppose so.” She pressed her hand against her mouth, obviously trying to stifle a yawn.

“Are you tired?”

She nodded. “A bit, yes. I tend to go to bed early. There’s not much to keep me awake.”

“It’s late. You’ve had wine, and we’re heading to see the McDonalds first thing in the morning. Why don’t you stay here tonight? The guest room’s ready.”

Her eyes widened slightly. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you?—”

“It’s no trouble. And the guest room’s pet-friendly.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “All right. Thank you. Why not? A nice bed in a warm home sounds too good to pass up.”

Just then, a streak of orange fur darted across the room. Cannoli, perhaps sensing the enemy, raised her head, then rose to her feet, pressing against Mia.

“Was that Matilda?” Mia asked.

“Yes, the devil has arrived,” Logan said.

A second later, the streak of orange doubled back, skidding to a halt between the couch and chair, glaring at them with the smug posture of a queen inspecting her kingdom.

Matilda’s tail swished like a warning flag, her golden eyes fixed on Cannoli.

Cannoli froze, ears flattening, her body sinking low to the couch cushion next to Mia.

The tiny dog gave a faint, uncertain chirp—more apology than challenge—then slunk halfway behind Mia’s arm.

Matilda blinked once, slow and deliberate, before sauntering off with an air of regal disdain.

Cannoli whimpered, burying her face into Mia’s lap.

Both Logan and Mia laughed. “It’s okay, girl,” Logan said. “We won’t let the scary cat hurt you.”

“She’s the biggest chicken ever,” Mia said, still giggling.

“Matilda’s a bully,” Logan said. “But as long as Cannoli keeps her distance, it should be fine.” He hoped so anyway.

Mia reached out to run her fingers against his strong jawline. “I’m really glad you lost that bet.”

They kissed over the cowering dog in the glow of the firelight.

“Come along with me. I’ll show you to your room,” Logan said, reluctantly. He’d stay here all night kissing her if he could but he could see how weary she was. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

Logan stood, holding out his hand to help her to her feet.

Cannoli jumped from the couch to follow them obediently toward the stairs.

When they reached the second floor landing, a flash of ginger fur suddenly materialized.

Matilda planted herself in the middle of the hallway like a gatekeeper, her tail lashing in slow, menacing arcs.