Page 44 of Tell Me Lies

“What?” she whispers, but her legs carry her toward me before I even answer.

Reaching my arm out, I wrap it around her waist and pull her toward me. Not so that she’s on my lap because I know Amelia is going to come back at any minute and I don’t want her to be confused, but enough so that I can pull Maci’s face toward mine.

Planting a kiss on her lips, I grin. “I’d say, in this chapter, you’d be the one people swoon over, Maci McKenzie.”

She surprises me when she kisses me this time, smiling against my lips. “Happy birthday, Logan. Thank you for letting me be a part of this day with you and your amazing kid.”

“You’re welcome,” I mutter. “But it’s my birthday, and for my last present, I want you in my bed with that jersey on and nothing else later.”

Her pupils grow a bit bigger, and she quickly sucks in a breath, but when she hears Amelia’s feet coming back down the hall, she straightens herself and takes a few steps away. For a moment, I just take her in because my eyes can’t stop looking at her in that Sharks jersey with my name on the back. Her jeans hug her thighs so perfectly, like they were painted on by the world’s most talented artist.

“What is for dinner anyway?” I ask as Amelia climbs onto my lap. The scent of something good hits my nose for the first time, and now, I have a second to think. “Because it smells amazing.”

“Your favorite!” Amelia squeals, and I wonder if she actually knows what my favorite food is or if she went ahead and chose pizza.Herfavorite. “’Pagetti! We used Grammy’s recipe!”

My eyes shift to Maci’s, who suddenly looks uneasy. “So, your dad called the house this morning. He was afraid to call your cell in case you were in the middle of practice or training. Anyway, I told him Amelia wanted to help with your birthday dinner, and I asked if there was anything he could think of that you’d like.” She pauses, her eyes moving to the ground for a second before finding mine again. “He said you always asked your mom to make you spaghetti for your birthday each year, and then he gave me the recipe. I hope you don’t mind. I just … I wanted to make something you liked, but I understand if it’s too much.”

I don’t say anything right away because, honestly, everything she’s done for me tonight is more than anyone outside my family has done for me my entire life. And even with them, it’s never beenthisthoughtful.

“I should have asked you first.” She talks faster, her cheeks the reddest I’ve ever seen them as she takes a few steps backward. “I’m sorry, Logan.”

Gently, I set Amelia down and walk up to Maci. I don’t want to be too affectionate and throw Amelia off, but I also need Maci to understand that what she did … is incredible. And the closer I get to the pot on the stove, the more I realize just how much it smells like my mom’s recipe.

I put my hands on her shoulders. “Hey, listen to me. I love everything you and Amelia did for me today. And I love that you made me spaghetti with my mom’s recipe.” I smile at her. “I promise, Boston, tonight, I’m a very happy man.”

She swallows thickly. “Okay. Also, it’s probably not even going to taste like hers or be nearly as good. So … I’m sorry for that in advance.”

“It’s going to be perfect, Mace,” I utter, looking down at Amelia, who has now wedged her body between ours. “What do you say, baby girl? Ready to eat dinner so that we can dive into that cake?”

“Yes!” Amelia squeals.

“Good. Go get in your seat, and I’ll bring you your food,” I tell her, and she quickly pushes her way through our legs and rushes back to the table.

Maci waves toward the seats. “Go on and take a seat, birthday boy. I’ll even be nice and serve you tonight.”

Leaning closer, I bring my lips to her ear. “Oh, yeah? Are you going to serve me on your knees?”

Stepping back slowly, I eat up the suddenly dazed look on her face before heading to the table.

And whether or not she ends the night on her knees or in my bed, wearing that jersey … it’s the best birthday of my life. And all I needed was the two ladies who are right here.

“You know, you really don’t have to help me clean up your own birthday celebration,” I mutter at Logan as he loads the dishwasher.

I offered to read Amelia her bedtime story tonight, and she demanded we both read it together. And after she dozed off, I insisted on cleaning the kitchen—because let’s face it; I can clean it correctly—and he refused to let me do it without helping. It’s his birthday, and yet he wants to help.

And that’s why he really would be a top-tier book boyfriend if he lived within the pages of a book. But he doesn’t. He’s in thereal-life freaking world. And that makes this thing we’re doing all that much more difficult.

“I know you can’t go to sleep with a mess like this,” he says softly. “So, I figured the quicker this gets cleaned up, the quicker I can have you in my bed.” He leans over me, grabbing a cup. “The jersey, sweet thing, it’s driving me fucking wild.”

“One of the things Maddie left behind,” I say, giving him an amused look when I gaze down at the hard bulge in his jeans. “Did she get the same sort of reaction?”

“Fuck no.” He scowls. “Don’t be gross. She was like … my sister.”

I try to hide the look on my face, but his answer gives me joy even though Maddie already told me something similar before she left. I guess, in some way, I always wondered if there ever was a spark or anything between them.

Closing the dishwasher, he grips my hips before spinning me around to face him. “What I really want is you. In my bed.”

“Really subtle, Sterns.” I shake my head. “Way to play it cool.”

---