Page 89 of Forgiving Her First Love

Was she trying to prove she could live without him? She could. She had already done it. And, as painful as his coming back into her life had been, it had also been the most alive she had felt since he’d left it eight years ago.

As for Biyen, she trusted Logan to be a good surrogate father to him. He was already knocking it out of the park with his kid sister. He might not have much faith in himself in that role, but she did.

“You don’t have to ask,” she said gently. “I make up my own mind, and I’ve decided that I love you. I’ve always loved you.” Her heart was swelling too big for her chest, constricting her throat so her voice grew thin and strained. “I’m going to stay with you. We will. When things change, we’ll make a decision together to do something else.”

“Sophie—” He was holding her arm too hard. Her muscles were twitching in protest, but she understood he was hanging on tight because he was scared. Terrified. “What if love isn’t enough? It wasn’t enough for Mom. It sure as hell didn’t fix Dad.”

“You’re right,” she said with a little laugh. “Love isn’t a magic potion that fixes everything. If only! All it does is cushion you against the hard reality of life. Did Glenda loving the shit out of you and your brothers fix you guys? Heck, no. You’re all a walking disaster, but imagine how you would have turned out if you hadn’t had her.”

“And you.” He finally released her arm and brought his hands up to cradle her face. “Your love shaped me. I know that because when I lost it, nothing felt right. And when I had you back, really back in my life and my heart, the world made sense again. I will do anything for you, Sophie. Anything. I thought if I let you go, it would give me time to get my shit together. To become the man who deserves your love, but… I don’t think I care who or what I am if you’re not here for me to want to be better.”

“Why don’t you think you’re enough as you are?” She cocked her head, genuinely baffled by this. “Look at all you’ve accomplished, Logan. You’re ready to go to war for a baby you didn’t know a few months ago. You were right there for me, every minute, when Gramps died.”

“I should have been with you when you lost your mom. I should have been better sooner.”

“Me, too,” she assured him. “Do you want me to start wondering if I’m good enough for you?”

“No.” He scowled and folded his arms around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His lips touched her brow. “You’re perfect.”

“See, that’s how I know you really love me.” She smiled shakily into his collar. “You have become oblivious to the fact I’m actually very catty with messy hair and I smell like diesel most of the time.”

“I love the smell of diesel on you.” He drew back a little, expression shifting between tender and grave. “Do you really think we have a shot at forever, Soph? Because that’s what I want. You. Forever.”

“Oh God, you idiot.” Tears rose in her eyes. “It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Still?” he asked very, very softly while his thumbs grazed her cheeks and his mouth lowered to hover against her lips.

“Always,” she repeated.

His mouth settled across hers and something cleaved open in her chest. Not breaking. Blossoming. Opening and offering herself to him even as she felt something huge emanating from him. His chest swelled against hers. His breath hissed as though he was enduring something equally cataclysmic.

He slid his hands low in her back, arching her into him as he feasted on her mouth, but he gave, too. It was back and forth, greed and generosity, lust and love. Rough hunger that turned fond and soft as he stole a few last kisses before lifting his head.

“We have more to talk about, but I should…” He cocked his head toward the stairs.

“Yeah, I should get back to work before my boss docks my pay.”

“Your boss is too scared of losing you to do any such thing. You’ve kind of got him over a barrel, actually.”

“Oh? Good time to ask for a raise, then.”

“You realize you take home more than I do, don’t you?”

Because of all the overtime, she presumed. “That’s nice to know, but I still want a raise.”

He rolled his eyes. “We’ll talk about that later, too.”

Chapter Twenty-One

They came upstairs to find everyone had moved into the kitchen. Storm was in her high chair. Emma was sneaking spoonfuls of orange mush into Storm’s mouth around the plastic spoon she was clutching and sucking.

Trystan and Cloe were sitting at the small kitchen table, each with a cup of coffee before them, each wearing an air of tension like a pair of cats that were pretending the other didn’t exist and wanted them to know it.

Logan recalled again that Trystan had been checking her out this morning, which actually wasn’t like him. He could have the sex life of the average rock star if he wanted it, but he never had. So what was going on here? Hmm.

“We thought you two left.” Reid was leaning his hips on the counter by the coffeemaker, holding his own cup of coffee.

“I am leaving,” Sophie said. “My boots are up here.” She motioned to the door.

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