Читать книгу The Complete Christmas Collection - Джанис Мейнард, Rebecca Winters - Страница 44

“I told him, I’m fine,” Cissy grumbled.

She shifted beneath the stark, white sheet covering the exam table and huffed. A strand of blond hair slipped down over her eyes. Cissy batted it back only for it to fall again.

Amy smiled. She reached out from her seat beside the exam table and tucked it behind Cissy’s ear.

“I compromise on a lot, Cissy,” Dominic said, pausing his restless movements and leveling a stern look on her. “But I’m not taking any chances with this.”

Amy winced. It was a wonder Dominic hadn’t worn a hole in the floor with the amount of pacing he’d undertaken over the past hour. At this rate, he’d be in a hospital bed alongside Cissy for high blood pressure.

Cissy sighed. “There’s no winning with Dominic when he’s in this mood.”

Amy smiled and squeezed Cissy’s hand. She glanced at Logan hovering in the corner on the other side of the room. He crossed his arms over his broad chest and planted his feet wider apart. There was never any winning with him, either. Both Slade men could bow their back up better than a bull. Dominic had proved as much a few hours earlier.

After successfully moving Thunder back to his stall, Amy and Logan had returned to the main house to find Dominic bundling Cissy into his truck to make the drive to the nearest hospital. Amy and Logan followed close behind in Logan’s truck, leaving the boys in Betty’s care.

They’d ended up spending the afternoon and early evening waiting in the emergency room near the revolving entry doors. Dominic’s agitation had grown with each passing hour and remained after they were ushered into an exam room then to an ultrasound lab. He stopped pacing momentarily and crossed the small room to touch a kiss to Cissy’s forehead. “There’s no way we’re leaving here until I know my girls are safe.” His voice lowered and he placed a hand on her belly. “All of them.”

Logan shifted, dragging a hand over his face and closing his eyes. The dark stubble across his chiseled jaw matched the black night that had fallen outside. His broad shoulders tensed and he maintained his silence.

Amy’s chest ached. She’d only ever seen him this anxious once before. When she’d been the one in the hospital bed and they’d shared the same worry as Dominic and Cissy. And the outcome had been exactly as they’d feared.

Logan caught her eyes on him. He drew his head back, composed his features and turned to stare at the open doorway. She couldn’t blame him. This was the last place she wanted to be, too.

Amy slipped a hand under her sweater to rub the throbbing cut on her side, careful not to dislodge the bandage covering it. A warm dampness met her fingertips and she stifled a wince. It’d been a close call earlier but they’d all been lucky. She just hoped their luck for the day continued a little longer.

A nurse swept into the room and closed the door behind her. “Sorry for the long wait.” She smiled with apology and sat on a stool by the exam table, tugging a latex glove on each hand with a snap. “It’s been a busy night.”

Amy’s gut churned and sweat broke out across her brow.

“Let’s have a look at these beautiful babies and make sure they’re comfortable,” the nurse said.

Logan squeezed Dominic’s shoulder and strolled to the door. He hovered on the threshold, looking expectantly in Amy’s direction.

“We’ll wait outside,” Amy said, releasing Cissy’s hand.

“No.” Cissy grabbed the sleeve of her sweater. “Please stay.”

Her chin trembled but she grinned and held up her other hand which held Dominic’s. She wiggled it and laughed nervously.

“What with the boys, I’ve gotten used to having both hands full,” Cissy said. “It’s more comforting.”

Amy hesitated at the fear shadowing Cissy’s eyes. She knew how it felt to lie on a bed waiting for the world to crumble. To hear your worst nightmare as a mother spoken out loud by a stranger.

Amy sighed, forcing a small smile and taking Cissy’s hand again.

Logan shifted restlessly at the exit. “Amy—”

“I’m staying, Logan.”

He frowned but didn’t argue, leaving and shutting the door behind him.

“Thank you for staying,” Cissy whispered.

The nurse tugged the hem of Cissy’s hospital gown from underneath the cover and Dominic tucked the sheet around the underside of her bare belly.

“I told my husband this wasn’t necessary.” Cissy laughed nervously. “It really wasn’t that hard of a fall, and I feel perfectly fine.”

The nurse smiled and rolled closer on the stool, squeezing a glob of jelly onto Cissy’s protruding middle.

“It never hurts to double-check,” she said. “Besides—” she winked at Dominic “—I think this proud papa will rest easier knowing all of you are okay.”

Dominic nodded, jaw clenching and dark eyes worried. Amy tightened her hand around Cissy’s and did her best to put on a calm front.

The next few minutes stretched on for an eternity as the nurse moved the probe over Cissy’s belly. She searched around then hovered in one spot. A strong throb pulsated around the room, evoking a heavy sigh of relief from Dominic. Locating the second heartbeat, the nurse eased back on the stool to give them all an unobstructed view of the monitor.

“There,” she said. “You can relax. Mom and babies are safe and comfortable.”

Dominic’s smile stretched wide.

The nurse packed up the equipment and wiped Cissy’s skin clean, pausing on her way out to say, “You two better get plenty of rest. The opportunity will be gone in a couple months.”

Dominic chuckled. He bent, showering kisses all over Cissy’s belly, then cradled her face in his big palms and touched a tender kiss to her lips.

The bittersweetness of the sight warmed Amy’s chest and tears welled in her eyes. She dropped her gaze, the cut on her side throbbing stronger than ever.

Cissy laughed. “Can we go home now?”

“Yep.” Dominic straightened. “I’ll help you get dressed and we’ll check out.”

Amy’s skin heated beneath the weight of Dominic’s scrutiny.

“Amy?” Dominic’s warm palm touched her arm. “Why don’t you and Logan head back home? It’s been a long day for y’all, too.”

Amy nodded.

“Do you mind checking on the boys for us when you get back?” Cissy asked.

“I’d be glad to.”

Amy moved to the door, pressing a fingertip to the corner of each eye as she turned away. Dominic’s heavy tread sounded behind her.

“Thanks, Ames,” he said, pecking a kiss to her cheek. “Thank Logan for me, too, okay?”

Amy left and joined Logan in the hall.

“The babies are fine,” she said. “And so is Cissy.”

Logan released a heavy breath. He shoved away from the wall and stepped close. His dark eyes hovered on her face. He swept the pad of his thumb over the wetness lining her lower lashes.

Drawing his hand away, he rubbed his thumb and forefinger together and his mouth drew into a tight line. “Let’s get outta here.”

His big hand engulfed hers and squeezed, pulling her to the exit.

The drive home was silent. Only the sporadic clicking of the truck’s blinker and jingle of keys hanging from the ignition filled the cab. Logan squeezed Amy’s hand for the length of the ride, releasing it to change gears or navigate a turn then clasping it tight again.

They pulled to a stop in front of the main house. The truck’s headlights flooded the front porch, highlighting the boys and Betty huddled on the steps under a blanket.

“Their little butts should be in bed.” Logan cut the engine and thrust the door open.

“Don’t be so hard on them. They had good intentions.”

Amy sighed at his glower. She trailed Logan to the porch, wincing as the boys’ eyes widened up at him. They scrunched together, tugging the blanket up over their heads.

“What are you two still doing up?” Logan pulled the cover down.

“They wanted to wait for Cissy to get home.” Betty stood and ran the back of her hand across her forehead. “We’ve all been worried. But, at least, we’ve been able to rest a little easier since Dominic called from the hospital to say they’d be on the way back soon.”

“Well, that’ll take some time, yet,” Logan said. “Everything’s fine. There’s no need to wait.” He steered Betty toward the door. “Take a break and put your feet up. We’ll look after the boys.”

Betty nodded gratefully, saying over her shoulder, “Pop and Traci are still out in the stables. They had a lot of horses to calm down but they should be in soon.”

Logan waited as the door closed behind Betty, then glared down at the boys.

“Do you have any idea how much chaos you created this afternoon?”

Kayden sat up, face twisting. “Uh-uh. Don’t look at me, Uncle Logan. I ain’t do it this time. It was all Jay—”

“You.” Logan snapped his fingers at Kayden, then pointed to the door. “Bed. Now.”

Kayden clamped his mouth shut, jumped to his feet and scurried inside.

“Hate to say it,” Logan murmured, “but Kayden’s right this time.” He narrowed his eyes on Jayden. “What were you thinking, Jayden? This is the kinda thing I’d expect from your brother. Not from you.”

Jayden’s lips quivered. “I wanted to—”

“Didn’t I tell you to keep your distance from Thunder and let us handle it?” Logan shook his head. “I told you he gets wild when he’s let loose. And, yet, you did the exact opposite of what I told you to do.”

Jayden’s eyes flooded, big tears spilling over his lashes and streaming down his cheeks.

“But he was sad,” Jayden whispered. “He wanted out—”

“He’s not sad,” Logan clipped. “He’s wild. So wild he almost ran you and your aunt Cissy over.” He bent, pinching Jayden’s chin between his fingers and tilting his face up. “Not to mention the babies.”

Jayden’s face crumpled, his sobs overtaking Logan’s words.

“Okay, Logan.” Amy removed his hand and stepped between the two. “You’ve made your point.”

She helped Jayden to his feet. Jayden wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his flushed face against her belly. His tight hold dug into the wound on her side. A fresh rivulet of blood trickled over her skin and dampened her sweater. Amy grimaced, shifting him to a more comfortable position.

“I j-just wa-wanted—”

Jayden’s muffled words stopped, his shoulders shaking.

“Shhh,” she soothed, smoothing a hand over his blond head and rubbing his back. “It’s all right now. Everything turned out okay.”

Logan’s face darkened. “Amy—”

“He knows he did wrong.” She touched her lips to Jayden’s shiny hair. “Don’t you, Jayden?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” he choked out. He squeezed her waist and buried his face in her sweater again. “I’m s-sorry. I just wanted to...”

His voice turned small and trailed away.

“To help.” Amy smiled gently and peered into Logan’s angry eyes. “You just wanted to help Thunder be happy. Right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jayden whispered. He glanced up at Logan and scrubbed the heel of his hand over his cheek. “I just wanted to help, Uncle Logan.”

“He’s learned his lesson,” Amy stressed.

Logan’s mouth flattened into a hard line. His dark eyes moved from Jayden’s face to Amy’s and back again. She held his stare, determined to win this one. Logan shifted restlessly and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“When I give you a rule, Jayden,” he said, “I expect you to obey it from now on. Otherwise, I can’t trust you.”

“Yes, sir,” Jayden whispered.

Logan bent, cupped Jayden’s head with a broad hand and kissed his forehead. He opened the door and held it, gesturing toward the warmth emanating from inside the house.

“Put him to bed, Amy.” Logan glanced at her side and frowned. “Then come to the bathroom and let me change that bandage.”

She raised a brow and nudged Jayden. “Your uncle Logan’s kind of bossy. I don’t think he knows the magic word.”

Jayden smiled. He whispered, “It’s please, Uncle Logan.”

Logan’s mouth twitched. Those beautiful eyes of his lifted and locked on hers. “Please,” he said, voice husky.

Amy’s belly warmed. She ducked her head and slipped past him into the house. She was as much a sucker as he was.

Amy led Jayden to his bedroom, helped him and Kayden wash their faces and brush their teeth, then tucked them into bed. Kayden returned her good-night kiss, snuggled into his pillow and watched with interest as Amy sat on the edge of Jayden’s mattress, smoothing her fingers through his blond hair.

“What you did today was wrong, Jayden,” she said. “No matter how much you think you were doing right.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jayden hiccupped. “I won’t never do it again.”

“Promise?” Amy narrowed her eyes.

“Promise.”

“He deserves a butt whoopin’,” Kayden proclaimed. “Can I give it to him?”

Amy forced back a smile and cast Kayden a stern look. He shrugged and turned over to face the wall, dragging the covers up over his shoulder.

“Are you gonna give me a spanking, Aunt Amy?” Jayden asked. His blue eyes widened, engulfing his face.

She smiled and ran a finger over his forehead, tucking back a blond curl. “No. I think you’ve learned your lesson, don’t you?”

He nodded, expression earnest.

“Okay.” Amy stood. “I want you both to close your eyes and go to sleep. That way you’ll be well rested and ready to deliver a good apology to Uncle Dominic and Aunt Cissy in the morning.”

She crossed the room and flicked off the light, tugging on the doorknob as she stepped into the hallway.

“Aunt Amy?” Kayden poked his chin above the covers. “Can you leave the door cracked so we can hear when Aunt Cissy gets home?”

“Of course,” she whispered. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.

Amy released the doorknob, allowing a slant of light to pierce the dark quiet of the room. She took a few steps down the hall but paused when the rustling of bedsheets sounded.

“I’m glad we got two aunts now.” Jayden’s hushed voice carried into the hallway. “They’re better than a mama any day.”

A bed creaked.

“Yep. Aunt Amy’s cool,” Kayden said. “But you’re lucky she didn’t give you a butt whoopin’. A mama woulda burned your tail up.”

Jayden sighed. “Yeah, pro’ly. We’d both have us a thousand butt whoopins by now.”

It was silent for a moment.

“Maybe,” Kayden whispered. “But we ain’t got one yet.”

A burst of muffled giggles rang out. Amy grinned, covering her mouth to silence her laughter and cradling her side at the sharp sting running through the cut. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

The moment was so familiar. Full of laughter coming from little ones tucked in their beds. She’d imagined it a million times when she’d been pregnant with Sara. And, had her luck been as good back then as it had been for Cissy earlier, the laughter would be coming from her children. Hers and Logan’s. Safe in their beds. Loved and protected.

She’d been so sure back then that she could’ve made Logan happy. Could’ve won him over, earning a loving husband and strong family. But she’d gone about it the wrong way and ended up losing everything.

Amy sighed. All that was in the past. It was just a teenage crush she’d worked hard to overcome. She’d gotten over her unrealistic hero worship of Logan. She wasn’t that desperate girl begging for his attention any more. She was moving on.

She made her way to their old bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was exactly as she remembered. The small fireplace on the far wall was still charming and the deep polish of the cherry furniture shone as bright as ever. Her purse sat on the dresser and her overnight bags were lined up against the wall by the wide, king-sized bed.

Amy rubbed her hands over her arms and crossed to the dresser. She rifled through the contents of her purse, pulling out the crumpled divorce agreement and smoothing the creases.

The bathroom door opened and Logan exited, his bare feet whispering over the carpet as he crossed the room. He reached out, plucked the papers from her and flicked them down on the dresser.

“Come on.” His strong hand wrapped gently around her elbow, tugging her to the bathroom.

He’d discarded his shirt and the thick muscles of his bare back tightened with each of his movements. Amy swallowed hard. It was a physical reaction. Nothing more. She tried to convince herself she’d have the same response to any other well-built man she came across.

Logan stopped in front of the sink. He sifted through the medicine cabinet, retrieving alcohol wipes, fresh gauze and tape.

Amy flicked her eyes around the bathroom, trying to focus on anything other than the broad expanse of his chest. A sprinkling of dark hair arrowed down his abs toward unsnapped jeans hanging low on his lean hips.

Logan’s tanned hands gathered the hem of her sweater.

“I can do this myself,” she said, stilling his thick wrists.

“You can’t reach it properly.”

“Yes, I can. Clear out and I’ll take care of it.”

“Amy, it’s been a hell of a day. Just let me do this and let’s get some decent sleep. In a bed, this time.” He raised a brow and flashed a crooked grin. “Please.”

Her body sagged, his gentle expression melting her defenses. She raised her arms, squeezing her eyes shut as he lifted the sweater over her head and dropped it to the tiled floor.

“I swear, Amy, you’re about as hardheaded as those boys...”

She glanced up. His eyes clung to the ring dangling from her necklace and the strong column of his throat moved on a hard swallow.

Her face flamed. She should’ve taken it off long ago. Her hand shot to her chest, pressing over the metal. The stone cut into her palm.

“Logan—”

“Lean to the side,” he said, voice hoarse and strained.

She sighed and twisted to the side.

His broad hands moved slowly against her skin, peeling off the old bandage and sweeping an alcohol wipe across the wound. Amy winced at the sting. Logan lowered his dark head, blowing gently across the cut until she relaxed.

“There,” he whispered, pressing the last bit of tape over the gauze and a kiss to her rib cage.

Amy tucked her chin to her chest, cheeks burning under his scrutiny. “Thanks.”

Logan rose, running his hands along her sides. The heat from his sculpted abs and wide chest pulsed against her front. His fingers caressed her hips and tugged her closer.

She tensed her stomach, trying to ignore the warm flutters spreading beneath her skin, waiting for the moment to pass. It was a physical reaction, nothing more.

Logan’s calloused fingers slipped underneath the ring and lifted it.

“You still wear it,” he murmured.

Amy blinked, eyes tracing the gray grout outlining each of the square tiles on the floor.

“For how long?” he asked, tugging the ring. “Since you left?”

She looked up and nodded.

Logan’s brow creased. His dark eyes clung to hers. He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, voice finally emerging in a choked rasp.

“There’ve been no other men?”

Amy cringed. She wished she could lie to him one more time. Tell him he no longer mattered to her. That what she’d felt for him had never been real. That she’d forgotten him long ago and fallen for another man along the way.

That would be enough for him to give in, give up on their marriage and let this go. Then she could move further into her new life. Away from her past sins and embarrassments.

Only, that’s how they’d ended up here to begin with. Her past lie still stood between them, casting a shadow and undermining his faith in her. She’d forced his hand back then and didn’t deserve his trust now.

Still, she wanted it. Even if she wasn’t worthy of it. Amy recoiled, feeling as small as Jayden. Wanting to do so much good and failing in every respect.

Logan’s face flushed, the redness flooding his lean cheeks and racing down his broad chest. The muscles in his abs rippled on an indrawn breath.

“Amy?”

A soft tremor shook his voice, highlighting the dark uncertainty in his eyes and deepening the lines of pain on his face.

Amy sighed, shoulders sagging. It was just as Cissy had said. There was never any winning with a Slade man. Especially Logan. He wouldn’t let this go. And she couldn’t lie to him again. Or to herself. No matter how much she wished she could. Like Jayden, she’d learned her lesson.

She closed her eyes, curled her fingers into his tousled hair and tugged him close. His forehead was warm against hers and she smoothed her palms down to cup his jaw, the only fair words there were leaving her. Honest ones.

“There are no other men, Logan. Not like you. They don’t exist.”

A strangled groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating against her lips as his mouth plundered hers. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, bending beneath his tender advance.

She should stop him. Should finish this before it started. But the hard heat of his chest and the rough rasp of his stubble-lined cheek against her skin renewed old longings.

The longing to be seen by him. To be desired by him. To be loved by him.

His tongue parted her lips and his fingers pressed through the fall of her hair to knead the back of her neck. His hands slid down her back to cradle her bottom, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist.

Her chest swelled and a lick of heat curled low in her belly. His masculine scent and gentle touch enveloped her, permeating her senses and settling back into their rightful place in her heart. And, God help her, she’d had no idea how empty she’d been.

She hugged him closer as he carried her into the bedroom and tossed them both onto the bed, the plush bedding cushioning her back and his hard length spanning her front. The moist warmth of his mouth left hers to travel across her skin, lingering on her breasts, thighs and everywhere in between, dispensing with their clothes along the way.

Gasping, she nuzzled the hard curve of his bicep as he settled between her thighs. He pressed deep and a soft cry escaped her, body adjusting, remembering.

He murmured warm words of apology against her lips, then continued with extreme care, body rigid and quaking. She tucked her heels around his thick thighs and pressed her nails into his muscular buttocks, urging him on.

“I won’t break,” she whispered, kissing his temple. “Let go. Make love to me.”

He sucked in a strong breath and moved with greater strength and purpose, limbs steadying. Her hand moved of its own accord, pressing tight to his chest, absorbing the comforting pound of his heart and taking everything he would give.

“Make love to me,” she repeated. “Make love to me.”

The phrase fell from her lips with each of their movements, hovering on the air between them. She didn’t know when the mantra changed. Didn’t notice when the words rearranged or when some dropped away.

She only realized it after they both found release. When he rolled to his back, arms wrapped tight around her and she followed. When she replaced her hand at his chest with her wet cheek. Just as she had the first time they’d been together.

The plea lingered on her tongue, breaking the silence, just as it had all those years ago. It echoed around them and within her, mingling with the thundering beat of his heart and the searing heat sweeping over her skin.

“Love me. Love me.”

And she wanted him more than she ever had before.

“I’M SORRY.”

Logan grimaced. He knew it was the wrong time to tell her. Could feel it in the stiffening of Amy’s spine beneath his fingertips and the slow lift of her face from his chest. But he needed to say it. Needed to pry it from his gut and put it down. So they’d at least have a fighting chance.

“For everything,” he said. “All the way back to the very start.”

Amy rose to her elbows and faced him. Her brow creased, her lush mouth parting on shallow breaths. The light sheen of sweat on her flushed cheeks glistened in the lamplight.

His body tightened. He dropped his gaze, studying the raven tangles of her hair pooling against the white blanket beneath them.

“I remember the exact day things changed between us.” He dug deep for the right words. The ones he’d arranged so carefully. “I was twenty. Had finished a good day’s work and took off on my own. Rode hard. Decided to stop off by the creek to let the horse take a breather. I was half asleep propped up against that old oak tree when I heard you coming.” His mouth curved, a small smile fighting its way out despite his unease. “Your feet snapped a twig or two and I figured you were sneaking up on me. Pulling a prank like you always did. So I kept my eyes shut and played along.”

Amy’s flush deepened. “Logan—”

“But that’s not what you wanted.” His mouth tightened. “You kissed me, instead.” He tapped a fingertip to his lips, warmth spreading from the spot and heating his face. “Right here.”

She squirmed against him and he curled his hand over the curve of her hip, stilling her.

“I was just to practice on, you said. That some guy had caught your eye and you wanted to be prepared.” He laughed, the sound grating over his ears. “You turned beet-red. Just like now.”

Amy winced and looked down. The long sweep of her hair cascaded over her shoulders, hiding her face.

“I was still a kid,” she whispered.

“You were sixteen. Had that beautiful hair and flirty grin. And I knew you were lying.” He reached out, brushing her hair back and rubbing the strands between his fingers. “It caught me by surprise. I’d only ever thought of you as a friend and was under the impression you felt the same way about me.” His gut churned. “I remember wishing you’d shift that attention to Dom or some other boy closer to your age. Because all I could think was...if I don’t put a stop to this, I’m not just gonna lose my best friend, I’m gonna break this girl’s heart.”

She glanced up, gorgeous green eyes welling.

“And, damn me to hell, Amy,” he choked, “that’s exactly what I did.”

She shook her head and placed her palm to his jaw. “You tried to let me down easy. I know it had to be awkward for you, and you did your best to set me straight over the years.”

“My best wasn’t good enough.”

“You tried. That’s the important thing,” she said, looking away. “What happened later was my fault. And none of it matters now.”

His throat tightened, heart bleeding for her. For the innocent girl she’d been. And the guarded woman she’d become. He lifted his hands, cradling her cheeks and dropping gentle kisses across her face.

He may have made mistakes by eventually giving in to Amy. By not keeping his distance. But when he’d learned of the pregnancy, he’d chosen to marry her despite the fact that she’d deceived him. As her husband, it’d been his job to protect her and he’d failed her. His throat closed. It’d been his job as Sara’s father to protect her, too.

Sara.

Logan froze. A wave of nausea swept through him, flooding his mouth. Just their daughter’s name was enough to bring the pain back. Enough to remind him of how much they’d lost.

“It doesn’t have to all be for nothing, Amy.” His voice sounded strange, even to his own ears. “However we got here, this is where we ended up. We still have a chance to build something solid. Something real.” He looked up, hating himself as much as he hated the hard glint in her eyes. “You’re not still looking for a fairy tale, are you?”

Her mouth tightened. She turned away again, gazing blankly beyond his left shoulder.

“No.”

Logan sighed. “We can make this work.”

“No. We can’t.”

Amy pulled against his hold. His hands shot out, tugging her back against him.

“Why not?” He pressed his forehead to hers. “We were best friends once and can be again. That alone will make our marriage strong. We’re good together. We proved that earlier with Thunder and just now.”

“What just happened was a mistake. One we’re not going to repeat.”

A mistake. Logan’s chest burned. “We’re still married.”

“Not for much longer.” She tossed her hair over her shoulders. “I’ve been truthful with you this time around, Logan. You knew exactly what my intentions were coming here.”

“I heard you say it. But I can’t believe it’s what you really want. Raintree is your home. Your family’s here.” He curved his hand around her jaw, her skin warm under his palm. “I’m here. I want you with me and I want this marriage to work.”

She shook her head. “Only because you feel obligated. You didn’t want to be married to me. Didn’t love me that way—”

“I cared for you.” He gathered her against his chest. “I still do. I know that doesn’t sound impressive. But love is just a word, Amy. One that people throw around as an excuse for reckless behavior.”

Logan’s mouth twisted. His mother had used it often enough. She’d said it every time she’d placed her needs before his or Dominic’s. Had whispered it when she’d wanted to manipulate Pop into giving in to another one of her selfish demands. And, eventually, had used it as an excuse to abandon her family for a richer man, shrugging off all responsibility for her actions.

Amy had used it, too. She’d said it to him over and over again after getting pregnant. As though that justified her deceiving him and trapping him into marriage.

He shook his head. “It’s just a word. A fantasy. The friendship we had was strong. It was real and my loyalty is, too. We’re a good team. Always have been.”

Her brow creased, eyes roving over his face, dull and heavy. “As good as Dom and Cissy?”

He clutched her hard and nudged a thigh between hers. “Better. We have history.”

A scornful laugh burst from her lips. “Bad history.”

“I remember the good. The rest can be forgiven.”

“And have you? Forgiven?” Her lips trembled. “And forgotten?”

He stiffened. He wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear. Ease her mind and put the light back in her eyes. But he couldn’t.

“I’m trying, Amy. We’ll try together. Take things slow. Work at forgiving and trusting each other again.”

The forgetting he wasn’t so sure about.

Her breasts lifted against him on an inhale. “Let’s just be for now. I’m tired.”

She sounded it. The husky note in her tone and heaviness in her limbs proved it.

Logan moved to his back, holding her close and trailing his fingers in wide circles over the smooth skin of her back.

“Then go to sleep,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

And he would be. Every day. He could get things right this time. Remind her how good they could be together and prove their marriage wasn’t a mistake. That their daughter hadn’t been a mistake. He owed it to Amy and they both owed it to Sara.

He shifted, bundling Amy against him and sliding beneath the covers. She drifted off before he tucked the sheet around her, hand resting over his heart and quiet breath whispering across his chest.

Logan tried to follow. Closed his eyes and tried to dream. But he couldn’t silence his thoughts. Could only continue wondering silently how Amy could be right in his arms but still feel a million miles away.