Page 7

"I'm glad Rufus is okay," I say over breakfast the next morning.

"Me, too." Logan finishes munching, then says, "I felt a little silly taking him in about a furball, but I'm glad I did."

"You did the right thing." Looks like Rufus might have a respiratory infection based on the chest X-rays the vet took. They did a blood test as well, and we'll know more in a couple of days when the results come back, but in the meantime, he was prescribed a broad-spectrum antibiotic, and we're keeping a close eye on his food and liquid intake to make sure he stays fed and hydrated. "Even if it means I got cockblocked by your cat yesterday. Twice."

Logan grins. "Well, today's a new day."

I grin back. "It certainly is."

Yesterday's developments were unexpected, overdue, and very welcome. By the time we got back from the vet, it was late, and we were both tired, so nothing else happened. Logan fussed over Rufus, while I fussed over him, making him a grilled cheese sandwich. It didn't feel like the right time to continue our conversation from earlier.

I wasn't able to fall asleep for a long time, so I stared at the ceiling and let my thoughts drift from topic to topic in the random, chaotic way my mind operates.

About the accident.

About whether I'll ever be able to move again like I used to.

About how good a life without pain would feel, and if I'm ever lucky enough to experience that again, I won't take it for granted, not even for a second.

About Hattie and the kids, and how Jax could be acting out because his dad is away, the same way I did when I was a kid.

About Logan and me and how we're the two biggest lunkheads in the world.

If we'd just had a conversation all those years ago, who knows what would have happened?

In all likelihood, I would have still enlisted, and he would've probably stayed and gone to community college, but would we be together? Long-distance sucks, but if there's anyone who could make it work, it'd be us.

We never had the chance to find out. But could we? Now?

And that led me straight to the biggest question mark in my life—what the fuck do I do next?

I have no money, no job, no education, no place to live—I can't crash at Logan's forever—and no plan on how to address any of it. I. Am. Screwed.

All I know for sure is that I don't want to mess things up with Logan. I care about him too much to risk hurting him. It wouldn't be fair to start something with him until I have my shit figured out, and I am a looong way from doing that.

Then I remembered the look in his eye when he grabbed my belt buckle, his eyebrow raised, his intention perfectly clear. He wanted me. Like I wanted him. And then my cock got hard, and I jerked off, fantasizing about bending Logan over the kitchen counter, the very place where he just fixed our cereal, and stuffing his, what I'm sure is pretty, pink hole with my cock. Had a terrific night's sleep after that.

"What are your plans for the day?" Logan asks, scooping up our bowls once we've finished eating and taking them to the sink.

He's in his sexy corporate outfit again—this time it's a sharp, slim-cut charcoal-gray suit that hugs his frame just right. From the dining nook, I've got a clear line of vision to the sexy curve of his peachy ass. His light-blue shirt complements the gray, and he rolls his sleeves up and flings his skinny burgundy tie over his shoulder to avoid it getting wet as he begins washing up.

"I was thinking of going to the diner to make a start on some of the stuff that needs fixing," I reply, trying to quash the erection forming in my jeans. "Oh, that reminds me, Hattie invited us for dinner. When are you free?"

Logan turns to face me, drying his hands on a dish towel. "Let me check my overflowing social calendar… Oh, look. Turns out I'm free any night apart from Sunday, because that's dinner with my folks, and book club the first Tuesday of every month."

"So you're free this Friday?"

He grins. "I am."

"And you want to come?"

He knows Hattie and the kids, and even though he seemed relaxed with the guys at the center, I still want to make sure this isn't overwhelming for him.

"I'd love to. Actually, wait. I have an idea."

He shares what he's come up with, and I smile. "Cool. I think Hattie will like that." He turns around again, and my gaze drops to that delectable ass. "I'll speak to her about it today."

"I've got a bone to pick with you, mister."

Thankfully, Hattie's words are drowned out by Sofie and Jax barreling toward me. "Uncle Waaade!"

"Careful. No jumping," Hattie calls out from behind them, and just as they're about to launch themselves at me, they stop. I carefully lower onto my knee and bring them in for hugs, one on each arm. "Hey, kiddos. I missed you both so much."

"We missed you, too, Uncle Wade," Sofie replies.

I close my eyes for a moment, breathing in their familiar kid scent of shampoo and vanilla. I didn't want to wait until Friday to see them, so I texted Hattie after breakfast to see if I could drop in and say hi to them before school.

"Did you bring us a present?" Jax asks, grinning up at me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

"Jax, honey, we don't ask people for gifts, we're just happy to see them."

His smile vanishes, and he turns to Hattie. "Shut up!"

"Hey," I snarl, making both him and Sofie flinch. I point my finger at Jax, and he gulps. "That's no way to speak to your mother."

Looking remorseful, he turns to her and says, "Sorry, Mom."

"Inside, please," she says, and once they're gone, she heaves out a deep sigh. "Just one finger, one sentence from you, and I get an apology on the spot. What's your secret?"

"Don't take it personally," I say, getting back to my feet. "I was a shit when Dad was away. It would take one of Dad's military buddies coming over and giving me the finger-growl combo to get me into line."

Hattie sags against the porch railing. "I thought I had a few more years until hormones turned them against me."

"Boys can start early."

"Boys are the worst." She jabs me sharply in the chest. "And so are grown-up boys."

"Ow. What did I do?"

"The money that mysteriously found its way into my cash register."

"Oh, that. It's a…Christmas miracle?"

Her eyes narrow. "It's April."

"Take it," I plead. "Don't make me give you the finger-growl combo."

"I'd like to see you try." Her expression softens. "Thank you. I'll pay you back."

"Absolutely not."

She throws her hands up in the air. "Ugh. Boys!"

I grin, before turning serious. "It's fine, really. And don't worry about Jax. I'll have a proper chat with him soon. Oh, and how does Friday night dinner sound?"

She manages a smile even though she looks drained. "That'll be great. I'll cook up some?—"

"No need. When I told Logan about it, he insisted you have the night off. He wants to cook you a meal. If that's okay?"

Her smile grows, crinkling the soft skin around her eyes. "That would be wonderful. Tell him I'd love that." She looks over her shoulder. There's no sign of the kids. "So, have you guys had a chance to talk? Or have you been too busy giving him an adult version of your finger-growl combo?"

I drop my gaze but the flush on my neck must give me away, causing my sister-in-law to cackle at me. "Okay. That answers that question. Anything you want to share?"

"Maybe. I'll tell you later at the diner."

"The diner?"

"Yeah." I look up, fold my arms across my chest, and declare with a proud nod, "You're looking at your new handyman."

I spend the next few days fixing stuff around Benny's, and in return, Hattie keeps me well-fed and manages to pry every last detail about Logan out of me. It's obvious she's gunning for me and Logan to make it, but she also understands my situation.

How can I even think about starting a relationship when I have no clue what my future beyond the next few days holds?