Bad Boys of Red Hook [2] You're the One Page 19

  “But you’re talking marriage—”

  “Eventually, maybe. I want to be with you, but I have to stay here in Red Hook for Nicki’s sake. I can’t take her away from the only home she’s ever known and all the people she loves.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

  “So you’re okay staying with me and Nicki in Red Hook?”

  CHAPTER 13

  “Whoa, I never said I’d stay with you and Nicki.” Skye wiped the tears from her face, grabbed a tissue and blew her nose, and stared at Logan. He just asked her, all crying and snotty and hungover, to live with him. Maybe she was still drunk. Maybe she was dreaming, and if it was a dream, she wasn’t sure whether this was a nightmare or not. God, why did everything have to be so confusing? “I mean, I care about you and Nicki, but as much as I love the Crow’s Nest—”

  “It’s not exactly the kind of restaurant you want to spend your life working in.”

  “I don’t know. It’s not like I have a five-year plan. Hell, I don’t have a five-minute plan.” Well, except to never drink again, but that was more a lifetime thing. “Maybe the Crow’s Nest isn’t the be-all and end-all, but it’s a great start.”

  “You could work in Manhattan.”

  “I could.” But work wasn’t what she was worried about. Work wasn’t what was keeping her from jumping him, making love to him like a wild woman, and then running to the closest justice of the peace. Losing a job wouldn’t break her heart, but buying into this whole relationship, labeling all the feelings she’d been avoiding since starting this thing with Logan, letting him in more than she already had, was a recipe for disaster. She needed a reality check, and so did he. It just sucked that the job fell on her. “Logan, what if Nicki isn’t your daughter? Have you thought of that?”

  He looked straight into her eyes and she caught her breath. He looked the same way when he’d told her he loved her. So open, so certain, so real and strong. “I love Nicki. She still needs a family and I want to give that to her. I want to be that for her. I want us to be her parents. It doesn’t matter if I’m her biological parent or not.”

  Of course it mattered. He of all people should know how important it was to know where you came from and who your parents were, but that wasn’t the point she was trying to make. “Is that what you told Payton?”

  She could tell by the way his face blanched it was exactly what he’d told Payton. Knowing Logan, he’d even used the same words. “Skye, with you everything is different. I’m different. I never loved Payton.”

  And as much as she wanted to believe it, she wasn’t sure he even knew what he was feeling. Logan certainly believed he did and talked a good game. Lord knew she wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe so much it scared her, so much she could easily ignore that voice in her head that told her this was all an illusion on both their parts. “I know things with us are different. We’re attracted to each other. We’re great together in the sack and out of it. We like each other and I adore Nicki. Maybe you’re right. Maybe you love me. Maybe this thing between us will work out. But then maybe I’m just convenient.”

  She hadn’t meant to give him a verbal low blow, but the way his breath rushed out as if he’d had the wind knocked out of him told her she might not have meant to, but did anyway.

  He rose from the bed and paced. His hands clenched and released with every step. He crossed the room, turned, and stomped back again and then repeated the process. He stopped, ran his hands through his hair until it stood on end, and then faced her. “You think I’m with you because you’re convenient?” His voice went low and gravelly, and made all the hair on her arms stand up. His eyes flared with anger so hot, she felt the burn in the pit of her stomach. A vein throbbed at his temple and it looked as if he were about to explode. “You.” He pointed to her and back to himself. “Our timing. This relationship is anything but convenient. Look at us, Skye.” He grabbed the back of his neck with both hands, either to loosen the tense muscles or to keep from strangling her—she wasn’t sure which. “We’re both practically homeless. Hell, you’re hiding from your family. As for me, I don’t even know who my birth parents are.”

  A picture of Logan as a little three-year-old boy dumped at a police station took up residence in her heart and mind. He must have been so scared, so totally alone. When she looked at him now, she knew that little boy was hiding inside of him and all she wanted to do was hold him and tell him she’d never leave him. She shook her head to dispel the image and tears spilled down her cheeks. She wiped them away, but they kept coming. Shit. She hated crying and the more she cried, the more nervous he looked, and more out of control she felt. She sniffled and hiccuped like a little kid trying not to bawl. She took three deep breaths, doing her best to get a grip, wiped her face, and reached for him, pulling him back onto the bed.

  He sat and shook his head, his eyes closing as if he couldn’t stand to look at her, as if it hurt. “Skye, I’ve lost my job, my home, and I might have a ten-year-old daughter who thinks of me as a brother. It’s a mess no matter how you slice it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.” His eyes finally met hers and held. “The only thing in my life I’m sure of is that I love you.”

  Skye’s lips trembled and she pressed them together until the trembling stopped. She didn’t want to say this. She’d rather tell him anything but this, but she didn’t have a choice. She had to be honest even if it hurt, and this one was a whopper of a hurt. “Look at this from my perspective. You were engaged to Payton and only broke up with her because she rejected Nicki. You want to get married—maybe you feel like Nicki needs a mom, or maybe you don’t want to be alone. The thing is…I don’t think I could take it if a while down the road you realize you never loved me at all. It would kill me to find out I’m nothing more than Payton’s replacement.”

  He looked like a powder keg ready to go off. He did the whole caveman with a bad-boy twist to perfection. “You’re not Payton’s replacement.” He grabbed her upper arms and turned her toward him.

  She wished she could turn away, but he forced her to face him.

  “I never wanted to marry her. Our engagement was a fucking business decision—one I’ll never live down.” He held her arms in his grip and gave her a shake. “I didn’t know I was capable of feeling these things.…” A look of defeat crossed his face and sliced through her like her favorite knife through a tin can—jagged and painful. “I didn’t know I was capable of feeling anything until I met you. I’ve never felt anything like what I feel for you. I never dreamed I’d fall in love. Ever. I don’t need a wife or a mother figure for Nicki and I’m sure as hell not afraid of being alone.” He released her arms and stared into her eyes. “Skye, I spent a lifetime alone—I survived just fine. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you, because, God help me, I need you.”

  Skye wrapped her arms around his neck and when her lips touched his, her battle with self-restraint was lost. She’d never initiated a kiss, much less sex, but at that moment, all she wanted, all she could think of, all she needed, was Logan.

  She pushed up his sweater, her hands sliding over his chest while she devoured his mouth—drowning in his taste, the feel of his tongue against hers. She was on top for once, in control, and Logan did nothing to take it from her. Not that he couldn’t; he could move her around like a Barbie doll when he wanted to, but this time he sat back and let her love him.

  She broke the kiss, straddled his hips, and rose to her knees to pull his shirt over his head before going for his button fly.

  Logan stilled her hands.

  She sat back on his lap and looked at him, really looked at him. He was still angry if the tick in his jaw was anything to go by. Something was definitely wrong. She snuck a peek at his prominent bulge, so it wasn’t an equipment malfunction. “What’s the matter?”

  “I don’t need a pity fuck.” His placid expression seemed forced and his quiet, bored monotone amplified his indignation to a heart-shattering volume.

  Her
face flushed and stung, as if she’d just stepped from a sauna into an ice storm. Icy needles pricked her flaming skin. Damn men and their freakin’ fragile egos. She blew out a breath, dragged in more frigid air, and blew it out again. “Well, that’s good, because this isn’t a pity fuck.” She got in his face. “Tell me something, Logan. What was it when you picked me up and threw me over your shoulder?”

  Vacant eyes stared back at her, but she didn’t look away. He shrugged one shoulder and the muscles in his neck twitched like a cat’s tail before a strike. “I don’t know. I needed you.”

  She wanted to touch him but drove her nails into her palms until her knuckles turned white. “So, it’s okay for you to need me, but I can’t need you?”

  He looked like a kid who’d been expecting a beating and was given a lollipop instead. “You need me?”

  So much it scared her. “Have you ever let anyone love you?” God, there was that look again, unsure as if searching for an angle, tentative, trepidatious.

  “No one ever tried.”

  She didn’t know what to say to that. A tear slid from her eye, and her throat slammed shut on all the words that raced through her mind. She leaned forward slowly and kissed his forehead. Her fingertips followed, smoothing the furrow between his brows. She kissed each eyelid as she traced his cheekbones.

  His jaw clenched beneath her fingers and she ran her hands down his neck. Her tongue slid over the shell of his ear. “You need to relax. Trust me.”

  He blew out a breath, wrapped his hands around her waist, and dragged her closer. His mouth came down on hers, hard, demanding. She went with it—she didn’t have much choice in the matter. His hands were everywhere as if grasping for control. His body tensed beneath hers, shaking, shaken.

  She pulled her mouth away and nipped at his lower lip to get his attention. “It’s my turn, remember?”

  Her question was answered by a guttural groan as he ripped her sweatshirt over her head and dragged her pants down.

  She yanked on his button fly and all the buttons popped—his erection sprang free. She slid off his lap and let him kick off his jeans before she went in for the kill and took him into her mouth.

  She heard his sharp intake of breath, a muffled curse, and then his hand tangled in her hair. He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, as she slid farther down. Her hand gripped the base; her tongue traced the slit, and then swirled around the sensitive head. She squeezed her fist and drove her mouth down to meet it.

  The breath he’d been holding whooshed out as she ran her other hand between his legs.

  God, she loved the taste of him, the feel of power she held over him, the way he shook with his need to move. He vibrated beneath her, his dick jumped in her fist, and she took him deep until he hit the back of her throat.

  He held her head in his hand, his fingers spread, but he didn’t push, he didn’t raise his hips, he didn’t move. He stilled and gave up the cloak of control he’d always worn.

  Skye had never been in this position before—not like this. She’d never known that control was such a complete turn-on. She’d never felt so powerful. Every groan, every twitch of his muscles, every intake of breath, was a sign. He was so close. She wanted him to lose it, but she wanted to watch his face when he did.

  She sucked hard, moving off him, and released him with a pop before she moved up his big body. Kissing him. Determined to remain in control. She drove him on further with her mouth and sank onto him. His hands were still buried in her hair as she lifted herself off and then dropped back down on him—her breath shot out as he hit her womb. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and she held his gaze. The look in his eyes sent her right into an orgasm so powerful it took her by surprise. It rolled over her and she had no choice but to go with it. She rode it out and every move she made intensified its power. Magnified it, and had her gasping for breath.

  He gripped her hips, dragging her closer with her every thrust. Going so deep she swore he touched her heart, and when his hands tightened, holding her to him, she wiggled and he bucked beneath her. She’d never felt anything like that—she’d never felt so close, so immersed, so connected to anyone before.

  She’d never felt so loved.

  When his gaze locked on hers, her name flew from his lips and he came apart in her arms.

  She followed him over, collapsing on top of him as little earthquakes shot through her. Tears rolled down her cheeks and onto him and she hid her face as she kissed the center of his chest, his heart pounding beneath her lips.

  When she looked at him, she knew she was done for. She was helplessly, totally, and probably tragically in love with Logan Blaise.

  * * *

  Logan held Skye. He hadn’t missed the tears she shed as they made love. He hadn’t missed the look in her eyes—a look he’d never seen before. And he hadn’t missed the fear that followed.

  He’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb to miss the way she dragged the sheet up over her body as if trying to protect herself from something—maybe from him.

  She didn’t speak as he held her, but her silence couldn’t drown out the fight she seemed to be having with herself. Her body lay rigid against his and he did his best to soothe her, massaging tense muscles, working them one by one until they relaxed and sleep overtook her.

  He watched her sleep and then rose to take Pepperoni out. He went home to grab D.O.G. and found a very sleepy Nicki wearing her Angry Birds nightgown sitting on the couch with her arm around the dog, waiting for him. “Hey, Nicki. What are you doing up so late? Your bedtime was an hour ago.”

  She stood and stretched as Pepperoni jumped on her skinny legs, trying to reach her face. She bent down to pet the pup and got a lick on the lips for her effort. “I knew you’d come home to take D.O.G. out and I wanted to find out how Skye is.” She walked up to him and gave him a hug, resting her chin on his chest and looking up at him with eyes too old for her ten years. “I heard Pop on the phone with you.”

  “Shit.”

  “Logan, you’d better not say that in front of Bree when she gets home. She makes Pop and Storm put five dollars in the curse jar every time.” She shook her head. “Bree said at the rate they’re going, they’ll have my college paid for in no time.”

  “I’m sorry.” He took Pepperoni off her leash, peeled a five off his billfold, and stuck it in the jar. At least it was going to a good cause.

  Pepperoni ran rings around D.O.G., biting on his ears and tail.

  “Come here, Nicki. We need to talk.”

  Her eyes widened and she took a step back. “Am I in trouble?”

  “No, kiddo. Nothing like that.” He led her over to Pop’s chair and sat, pulling her into his lap. “Nicki, Skye and I are dating—”

  “Duh. Everyone knows that.”

  She leaned against him and rested her head on his chest. At least she wasn’t scared anymore.

  “Skye wasn’t comfortable with everyone at the restaurant knowing we’re seeing each other.”

  “Why? That’s kinda dumb, isn’t it?”

  He agreed totally, but he couldn’t very well cop to it. “We’re working together, so it complicates things.”

  “How come?”

  “Skye doesn’t want everyone to think the only reason I hired her was because I liked her.”

  “Why would you hire someone you didn’t like?”

  Maybe he should have Nicki talk to Skye. She’d be much better than he was at pleading his case. “I like Wendy and Simon and Francis, but not the way I like Skye. Do you understand?”

  She straightened up and looked at him just before rolling her eyes. “You don’t just like Skye, Logan. You love her.” Nicki looked so sure about it. As if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

  “How’d you know?”

  She shook her head as if asking the question made him too stupid to live. “’Cause you look at Skye the very same way Storm looks at Bree. And Skye looks at you the same way Bree looks at Storm. Skye tries to hide it, but she pretty
much sucks at hiding stuff.”

  “Nicki. ‘Sucks’ is not a nice word to use.”

  “No, but it works, so I’m going with it. I’m not a baby, Logan. I know lots of things.”

  When the kid was right, she was right. She was also incredibly bright and she saw and heard everything. He couldn’t very well lie about the way he felt about Skye, and he didn’t want to ever lie to Nicki. “I do love Skye.”

  “And you didn’t love Payton, but that was okay, ’cause she didn’t love you either. She just liked you sometimes.”

  Wow. Was she psychic? “Skye went home after the tasting and Rocki and Patrice were there with a bottle of champagne opened. Skye hadn’t eaten anything, and she’s not much bigger than you. So when she drank, the alcohol hit her hard.”

  “My mom used to drink.” Nicki didn’t look at him; she just stared into space, as if she were watching a movie that only she could see. “She used to get mean whenever she drank, and she drank a lot. Sometimes she wouldn’t eat just so she could get drunk faster. Is that what Skye did? Did she get mean?”

  “No, honey. God, no. Skye made a mistake. It was an accident, and I can pretty much guarantee she’ll never do it again. She’s not feeling too good right now. And Skye didn’t get mean. There’s not a mean bone in her body.”

  “Really?”

  “I swear.” He held up his hand in what he thought might be the Boy Scout salute, but could very well have been the Star Trek Vulcan salute. He’d never been a Boy Scout, and he’d often wondered whether he was as emotionless as a Vulcan—until recently, anyway. “Skye’s really embarrassed. Rocki and Patrice are both much bigger than she is, so they didn’t know how hard it would hit her.”

  “They just wanted to get her to tell them all about you. I heard them talking. They said they wanted all the gory details.”

  “Great. Has anyone ever told you it’s not nice to eavesdrop on adults?”