Page 22 of Risky Game

“Can I ask you something else? About your mom?”

I took a hefty drink of my wine and groaned. “If you have to.”

“I guess it’s not about your mom, but your dad. I take it he wasn’t ever around?”

I should have known it was coming. It was still a surprise. Not that he was curious. Most people usually were. The surprise came from the fact Logan was no longer relaxed. At some point, he’d planted his feet on the patio and leaned forward, fully invested. Fully serious.

And while I usually blew it off, laughed about the completely shitty hand Jassen and I had been dealt, I couldn’t do it. Not with Logan being so intense.

“Jassen’s dad was around for a while. He came and went long enough I remember him bringing him bringing us Christmas gifts one year, but that was, gosh… I was maybe five then? I have no idea who my dad is. Not sure my mom ever knew.”

There’d been a time I would have lied. Would have hidden that truth. It was in high school when I told a friend’s parents about my parents and had seen the way they shut down around me. I’d gone from a friend of their daughter’s to someone they kept an eagle eye on whenever I was around. Too afraid I’d steal something, probably, but that had never been the case. It had, though, been my first introduction to knowing I’d be judged forever for the choices my mom made.

“I didn’t know,” Logan said, and his voice was a quiet rasp. Thick with regret.

“Jassen and I are all we’ve ever had, but that was always enough. He went to college and even with his scholarship, he worked. He sent me money until I was old enough to get my own job. Where we grew up, we knew a lot of people who had it a lot worse.”

The family who lived in the upstairs apartment from us had an asshole dad. Every night, he stumbled home and beat his wife and kids. We hadn’t been abused… we’d been ignored and neglected.

Some would say it was all the same, but I knew better.

I’d had it golden compared to a lot of the other kids in our run-down apartment building. At least my mom had always managed to pay rent, kick out any guy she brought home who leered at me. There were many I knew who wouldn’t do that. She might not have taken care of us, but she protected me from the worst things that could happen.

She was a shitty mom, but she wasn’t the worst. By far.

Campfires and pine trees surrounded me, smothered me in a cocoon of warmth, and then I was being settled on clouds. Weighed down by the soft, luxurious feel of them.

A deep voice rumbled in my ear, creating a cascade of shivers down my arm. “Go back to sleep, Ruby.”

Oh… oh… I was neither in the clouds nor near a campfire. This was Logan.

I forced my eyes to open and caught his gaze in the darkened room. He must have flipped on the bathroom light to let a glow light the room because the door was open behind him. “You… you carried me to bed?”

What the hell for?

Oh… the night. The patio. I’d talked about my mom and refilled my wine before he brought the bottle outside in a bucket of ice with a couple more beers. We’d spent more time talking about Amelia. About football. He’d chuckled at the basic questions I’d asked him and lit up the night sky with his smile when he told me stories about Amelia. And somehow, I’d fallen asleep.

How embarrassing.

“Thanks for keeping me company, Ruby. I had fun tonight.”

I blinked and forced my eyes to open. I was so sleepy, but he was standing over me, and oh dear… those lips of his.

Keep him company? That did sound nice. I’d had fun, too.

“Night, Logan. Tonight was nice.”

In the distance, a soft hum sounded. Maybe it came from him. Maybe me. Sleep was pulling me under and then I felt a warm brush over my cheek. I curled deeper into the pillow as he draped the covers over me.

“Night, Ruby. Sleep well.”

I woke hours later, to the sun seeping in through the lightweight blinds. The gentle hum of the air conditioner. It took me a second to remember where I was, and once I did, I immediately rolled over.

“Oh God,” I groaned into my pillow. I’d fallen asleep while talking to my boss, and he’d carried me to bed like I was some child.

What a horrible first impression to make. A nanny who couldn’t handle her alcohol and fell asleep in the middle of a conversation.

He was probably going to fire me. Especially after telling him all the stories about my mom. There was no way he’d trust me with his daughter now. I might as well pack my bags and slink back to Jassen’s. Hell, maybe Portland.

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