Page 59 of The Cutting Edge
Logan barks out a laugh. “One gigantic juicy cheeseburger coming up. We know just the spot, don’t we Popperoni?”
“Yes we do,” Poppy pipes up from the backseat. “And a milkshake. Strawberry. With sprinkles, and extra whipped cream. And THREE cherries.”
“Of course, how could I ever forget the milkshake?” Logan says, eyes twinkling with good humor as he meets my gaze.
Warmth blooms in my chest, spreading through my veins like liquid sunshine. I’m with two of my newest favorite people, embracing my freedom and normalcy again, and it’s the best feeling.
After stopping at a diner and devouring the most delicious burger and milkshakes, banana for me, chocolate for Logan, and strawberry with sprinkles for Poppy, she glances between Logan and me, a mischievous grin playing on her lips. “We should get pedicures! All three of us. It’ll be fun.”
"Does your dad like pedicures, Poppy?”
"Oh yeah, he loves them." she nods reassuringly.
Logan gives Poppy and me an exaggerated grin, "I loooooove them."
“What?” She blinks at me, the picture of innocence. “Dad's nails look like bear claws. Don't you think he needs a self-care day? I know I do.”
I bite my lip to keep from cracking up, while Logan coughs to hide his chuckle. “Bear claws? What do you mean? RAWWWWWR.” He nudges Poppy with his elbow. “Nice try, kiddo.”
Poppy playfully rolls her eyes and throws her arms around her dad with a grin, "Come on, Daddy! Let’s get our glam on!"
“I think you watch too much Disney,” he laughs.
“That’s from Real Housewives,” she says matter-of-factly. “It’s Rosie’s favorite.”
Logan roars with laughter and Poppy and I quickly join in. “I think I might need to have a little chat with Rosie about age-appropriate TV viewing.”
“A pedicure sounds nice,” I stretch my legs out, wiggling my toes. I'm always up for a little pampering. Plus, more time with Logan and Poppy, that’s just a bonus.
“Great!” Poppy jumps up from the booth, clapping her hands together. “Daddy, please go get the car. We’re going for pedicures.”
Logan shakes his head at his daughter’s antics, paying the check for lunch and leaving a $50 tip in cash for the waitress. There's no way our lunch costs anywhere near $200, and as someone who constantly has one eye fixed on my checking account balance, I feel the warmth of appreciation for the way he nonchalantly overtips.
The salon Poppy chooses is just a few minutes from the diner, bright and cheerful, and scented with lavender and lemon.
As we walk in, it’s impossible not to notice all of the women do a double-take or just outright stare at Logan as he strides confidently through the salon.
Poppy grabs my hand and pulls me down to her so she can whisper something in my ear.
In a hilarious falsetto voice she whispers, “Logan Rivers, you’re a famous hockey player!You’re so handsome! Oh Logan Rivers you’re so fast with your big stick!”
I snort-laugh involuntarily, and she rolls her eyes dramatically at the long line of ladies in the pedicure chairs, whispering, “You’ll get used to it. It’s like that everywhere we go.”
Logan seems immune, keeping his attention focused on Poppy and me, but Poppy’s not wrong – every woman in the place and even a couple of the guys keep staring at him, trying to make eye contact.
I’ll confess, he makes it pretty tough to ignore him.
I sink into a plush massage chair while a technician soaks and exfoliates my feet.
Logan settles into the chair beside mine. Pretending to read aPeoplemagazine, I subtly glance in his direction like it’s my first day on the job as a brand new spy in a CIA comedy. His large frame is draped across the massage chair as it purrs like a house cat. I’d purr too if Logan were draped over me. His eyes are closed, lips curved up at the corners—he looks utterly relaxed.
Just as I sneak another glance at him, he catches me and winks, making my cheeks flush with heat.
LeeAnn, the nail technician, buffs my calluses, and files and shapes my nails. I find myself drifting, thoughts wandering to Logan and how natural this all feels, being together with Logan and Poppy, almost like... well, let’s say I didn't realize how much I've missed this feeling, being part of a family, since my parents got divorced.
A loud chuckle from Logan startles me from my reverie. He’s peering down at his feet, where Poppy has provided the nail tech with detailed instructions on exactly how to paint Logan's toes and fingernails -- an alternating combination of teal, black, and pastel purple polish.
“You're a trouper.” I tease. “But won’t the other players be jealous?
