Page 30 of Tell Me Lies

When she walks past me, brushing her shoulder against my side unintentionally, I exhale. I can’t stop this pull toward her, but it’s clear she doesn’t feel the same way.

Twenty-four hours. That’s how long it’s been since I found my apartment robbed and vandalized. I can hardly get a load of laundry washed, dried, and folded in twenty-four hours, and yet Logan somehow managed to rebuild my office in the short time frame—only better. And bigger.

Much, much bigger.

I don’t say anything because, truthfully, I can’t find the words as my eyes sweep around the room, taking it all in. Taking in what he did for me.

“Logan,” I whisper, my eyes landing on the upgraded baby-blue Mac computer, along with the blue mat under it and the keyboard to match. “This is … you didn’t have to do this. Not for me.”

“Everyone deserves a spot to be their happy place.” He gives me a slight grin. “The ice is mine. I hope this can be yours.”

Sheer baby-blue curtains hang at the sides of the giant window, drawn open so as not to obstruct the beautiful view that overlooks Casco Bay. Hell, he even got me a new timer, only this one matches the computer.

“I don’t know what to say.” I barely choke the words out. “This is … unreal.”

Walking toward him, I catch him off guard when I throw my arms around his muscular body. “Thank you, Logan. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This is … more than I could have ever imagined.”

“Having you here the past few weeks has meant the world to Amelia.” He stops, like he’s unsure if he should say the next words. “It’s meant a lot to me too. We, uh … really enjoy you being around, Maci.” He nods his chin toward the stunning desk. “I guess I just wanted to try to make you feel as at home as I could.”

Stepping back, he kisses my cheek, and I swear it electrocutes me.

He gives me his signature dimpled grin. “Enjoy it, Maci. Get situated. I’m going to take Amy to the playground for a bit.”

Part of me wants to go with them over getting my office situated. But I really need to write today, and I have to hold myself accountable when it comes to my author career. So, as he leaves the room, I smile and head toward the computer.

Time to do some work.

I pull my truck into the three-bay garage, closing the door with the remote once I’ve killed the engine.

One good thing about my daughter is that she sleeps like an absolute rock. When she’s out, I’m pretty sure someone could drive a train through her room, and she wouldn’t hear it. I wanted to give Maci some peace and quiet in her new space, so I took Amelia to the playground until she got tired and cranky and clearly needed her beauty rest. We didn’t even make it out of the parking lot before she was dozing off.

Pushing my door open, I slide from my seat and close it as quietly as I can before opening Amelia’s. Carefully unbuckling her from her five-point harness, I pull her from the car seat, put her head on my shoulder, and cradle her body.

Closing her door, I head into the house and toward her room. Carefully, I set her down in her bed and pull a blanket over her little body. She rolls to the side, tucking her hand under her cheek and making my heart squeeze because, goddamn, my daughter is adorable.

I tiptoe from her room and head down the hall, and right away, I hear Maci’s voice. It’s muffled, and it is obvious she’s talking to someone on the phone. But the closer I get to her door, the more curious I get. And when I hear the wordsex, I come to a stop.

“It is going good, Holly. I promise.” She pauses. “But I just … I’m a romance writer who has zero romance in her life. So, yeah, all the … spicy scenes? They aren’t exactly coming easily to me.”

Then, she grumbles, “Over three years. Let’s just say, when I try to write those particular scenes, I’m like a teakettle on the stove that’s been boiling too long.”

She laughs. “Ha! No way, you pervert! I am not going to use the child’s father as a … sex toy. I doubt that’s even legal.”

She listens for a second before she laughs again.

“I have to go. Don’t worry; I will get it figured out! Even if I have to go onto a website and order some … self-care toys, I’ll write the dang smut.”

She giggles. “Yeah, yeah. Goodbye, Holly. I love you too.”

Once she sounds like she’s off the phone, I know I have two options.

Option one, I can walk away and pretend I’m not a fucking perv who was eavesdropping on her phone call. But, yeah, being subtle has never really been my thing. I mean, for fuck’s sake, she caught me jerking off, and I didn’t try to hide it.

Option two—and I really, really like this option—I rush in there and offer to help her through this pent-up stress.

Before I know it, my palm is pushing the door open. Because, yeah, like I said, I like option two.

“Logan,” she says in a squeaky tone, her cheeks flushed. “Hi. How long have you been back?”

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