Page 92 of Bad Love

I lean back on him on the couch. "I saw my mom. She's getting better. But she invited Blakeover."

Logan stiffens under me. "How did thathappen?"

"Well, we were planning to see him today, I just didn’t expect her to ask him for tea. She probably figured it made perfect sense since he moved next door tothem."

"What?"He's staring at me as if I just dropped a bomb, and I realize that might not have come up. “Why didn’t you tellme?”

“We’ve been busy.” I sound defensive, and I’m not surewhy.

The tight exhale from Logan is his attempt to calm down, but from the rough edge in his voice as he continues, I don’t think it worked. "How wasRory?"

"Okay. I thought it would be hard for him, but he didn’t seem upset. It’s not like a custody situation. But Blake has a history of getting grandiose, then bolting. He likes to play the hero—at least until it comes time todeliver.

“It confused Rory last time, but he was little. I still don't think he really understood. Now…” I swallow. “Now he would, and I don’t want to see him gethurt."

Logan's fingers thread through my hair. It's oddly intimate. Under me, his chest and abs are rocksolid.

"Don't let him in," he says atlast.

"Keeping Blake out of Rory’s life completely might make things worse. I'm not sure that's right forRory."

"I'm not only talking about Rory's life. I'm talking aboutyours."

The tone of his voice has me shifting off his chest to look him in the eye. "What?”

His face is hard. "Come on. Your parents invite him over? They still like him after everything? They’re not trying to give their grandson back a father. They’re trying to give their daughter back a husband.” I turn it over. “The guy would be a moron not to try to get back withyou.”

I wish I could argue with him, but seeing my ex today gave me the impression Logan might be right. “The easiest thing in the world is wanting what you can't have. Especially forBlake."

Hunter's eyes flash as his fingers dig into my waist. "Up."

Surprise jolts through me. "We were relaxing," Iprotest.

"It's not working." He grabs my wrist and starts down thehall.

I stumble after him, him steering me into myroom.

Though Logan’s been here a handful of times, I realize it's our first time inhere.

My hand hits the switch by the door reflexively, and the overhead light comes on. I don’t have time to judge my stuff or to tidy, and the effort would be wasted anyway because Hunter’s not taking it in. He’s looking at me. And he lookspissed.

"Logan," I whisper, conscious of my son down the hall, "what'reyou—"

His fingers thread through my hair, and he kisses me, drugging and deep. "He can't have you back, Peach. Not now. Notever."

His mouth crushes mine, and I melt against him. I take his face between my hands because even though I don't like possessive, there's something startlingly attractive about Logan beingunnerved.

"I'm not with him, you idiot," I pant. I almost add, "I'm with you," but stopmyself.

That would raise thestakes.

More than the fact I called him on theweekend.

More than him showing up at our door with pasta forthree.

My back hits the wall, and he's already streaking a hot trail down my neck with his lips, his tongue. The barbell and the scratch of his beard contrast with the slick heat of hismouth.

I should make him stop going caveman when my ex-husband is none of Logan’s business. We haven’t made any commitments to one another. His lifestyle makes it clear that’s not what hedoes.

---