Page 21 of Bittersweet

She wished she could say all of those things to him now, but she couldn’t get the words out. Instead, she pushed gently against his arms and said, “Thank you for telling me the truth.”

He raised his head to look in her eyes again.

“I just need to think about things. It’s a lot to take in all at once, ya know?”

“I know.”

“We can talk more tomorrow, after we get a little sleep.”

“Of course.”

She touched his arm. “Goodnight, Logan.”

His weak smile revealed sadness and disappointment.

Her heart ached as she moved into the living room and sat down on the couch. She watched him walk down the hallway to her bedroom with his head hung low, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, and all she wanted was to run to him and throw her arms around him. She wanted to hold him tight and tell him all was forgiven, but she couldn’t.

She lay back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. There was no way she was going to be able to sleep with all she had just learned. She only hoped he and Kayla would get a good night’s sleep.

Her mind returned to the reason they had come there in the first place. A shooting in their neighborhood? Where were they living? It had to be closer to downtown in one of the more crime-ridden parts of the city. She wondered if he’d chosen the area because he was struggling financially. Starting a business wasn’t easy. She and Savannah could attest to that. It worried her that they might not live in the best neighborhood, and that Kayla might be around the kind of bad elements Logan had grown up with. There had to be better, safer places for them to live. Even on a budget.

She didn’t doubt that Logan would do anything to protect that little girl, though. He was a good dad, of that she was sure.

A good, strong, handsome dad. With hair like smooth dark cocoa, the most amazing hazel eyes—emerald green with deep milk chocolate bursting from the center, a smile that would make any girl swoon, lips as soft as marshmallow and just as sweet. Oh, those lips. Just the right amount of pressure—soft at first, melting together with hers, blending, more pressure, angling, turning, twisting … stirring? The image in her mind suddenly morphed into her looking down into a bowl of batter, holding a hand mixer, whipping together chocolate and melted marshmallow.

Okay. I’m tired.

10

A sliver of morning light sliced the living room in half, straight across Harper’s face, making her squint awake.

What time is it?

She didn’t hear any movement in the apartment yet. Her phone showed that it was seven-thirty.

I’m late!

She groaned at her lack of sleep, rolled over, and tumbled onto the floor with a thud.

“Ugh.” She sat up and rubbed her elbow. Just what I need. More bruises.

She stood and shuffled down the hallway, realizing she needed to get into her room to get clothes for the day before she showered. Her door knob had a tendency to squeak when she opened it. She’d been meaning to oil it for weeks. Now she wished she had.

Turning it as slowly as she could, she cringed as it squeaked loud and long—longer than it would’ve if she’d quickly turned the knob. What a relief when the door finally gave way and silence returned to the room. She pushed it open an inch at a time, hoping she hadn’t interrupted Logan and Kayla’s sleep. The morning sun was just starting to light the room, so she didn’t bother turning on the bedside lamp. She tiptoed across the floor, grabbing an outfit from her closet, before moving quietly to the stand beside her bed, which held her delicates. She slid the drawer open and reached in, grabbing the first pair of underwear she found.

“Morning,” Logan whispered.

She jumped and covered her mouth to hold in a yelp.

Logan smiled up at her.

“Sorry,” she whispered back. “I didn’t mean to wake you.” Her eyes landed on Logan’s bare chest, and she quickly averted her eyes.

“Red.”

Huh? She looked at him and realized his eyes were locked on the underwear in her grasp.

“Sexy.” His smoldering eyes met hers.

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