With an awkward squirm, she rolled to her other side to face me, her expression hard.
I swallowed. If she wanted to, she could try and twist things around to make me look guilty. I wouldn’t let her tell lies, but even if she did, I knew Logan wouldn’t believe her over me. That small piece of knowledge was enough to keep me calm.
My eyes widened as a small, brittle smile appeared on her face.
“I know, Cassandra. Accidents happen, and I’m partly to blame. You do know I was just kidding about the sex swing, right?”
Finally, I could breathe. The tension began to fade, and her smile grew as she continued.
“When I left Logan, I only took a few things. A sex swing wasn’t one of them.”
“I know. I mean, it just shocked me, I guess, but the box…I should’ve held it better.”
As soon as she opened her mouth to speak, the curtain flew open. His back was all I saw as a man rushed past me and dropped down on his haunches beside the bed, taking Natasha’s face in his hands.
“What happened, baby? I told you I’d help you move. Why didn’t you wait?”
Natasha was unable to sit up, but she did lean forward and press her forehead to his. I stood, feeling suddenly awkward. They didn’t seem to notice me, so as I backed toward the curtain, I cleared my throat. The guy’s head snapped in my direction.
I knew him. Not well, but he was a buddy of Mark’s. All I knew was that he used to own what was now Haven, and that his name was Josh.
“Cassie, hey. What happened?” he asked.
“Um, she—” I started, but Natasha tugged on his arm, snaring his attention back.
“I’ll explain later, but it could have been worse,” she said before looking to me. “No hard feelings, Cassandra. I’ll see you around.”
I nodded, thankful she was going to be all right and appeared to be letting me off the hook. With an apologetic hint of a smile, I stepped out of the room and inhaled a full, deep breath. Feeling a little lighter, I headed to the waiting room, but was stopped dead in my tracks at the sight of Jax leaning against the nurse’s desk.
His smooth charm was evident from across the hall—not to mention how easily he seemed to have put the on-duty nurse under his spell. Her blush was bright, her expression almost as awkward as the doughnut-shaped pillow in her hand.
“Let’s go—now!” I snapped through his laughter, storming over and snatching his arm. I tugged him toward the double doors that led to the outside.
Jax’s teasing was the playlist of the ride as he drove me back to the apartments to retrieve his car. He was driving a flashy black Porsche I’d never even known Logan owned. Ignoring him had turned out to be the best defense.
“Good luck, Buffy the Bitch Slayer,” he snickered as I climbed out. “I’d love to be there to watch you explain all this to my brother, but unfortunately I’ve got plans tonight.”
I glanced back. “Logan will believe me that it wasn’t on purpose. He knows me.”
“Oh, I have no doubt about that. I just know that you’ll look hilarious, all nervous as you try to explain it.”
He had no idea what he was talking about. I could tell Logan without freaking out. It was Oliver I was worried about, and that was what had me wracked with anxiety.
My eyes narrowed to slits. “We’ll see. And you watched Buffy? A little before your time, wasn’t it kiddo?” I taunted.
Jax’s grin grew wider. “Ever heard of reruns? I grew up with a sister who watched anything with a so-called tough girl, and Buffy was smokin’ hot. Filled my spank bank with screen shots of that chick!”
I slammed the door, feeling how I always did when I left Jax: disgusted and irritated.
When I arrived back at Logan’s around seven, I still hadn’t found the right words to explain to Oliver what’d happened. The air was thick and sweet with the aroma of Italian food. I followed it to the kitchen, where Oliver sat at the table and Logan stood in front of the stove.
“There you are.” Logan turned around.
“Hi, Cassie!” Oliver called out, hard at work on a paper in front of him.
“How was your day?” Logan asked, pulling me into him.
“Good.”
His brows knit together at my hesitance. Yeah, I was nervous—embarrassingly so.
“Jax said you borrowed his car. I thought you’d have taken one of mine. They’re much safer. He always has his buddies working on his, and I don’t trust them.” Logan brought me in closer and placed his lips over mine for a quick kiss.
“Hopefully my car will be back soon,” I said, brushing our mouths together again. He smelled like home and everything else I loved.
“It will,” he murmured.
With my lips parted slightly, I stroked my tongue over his bottom lip before stepping out of his hold, earning me a wicked smirk at my tease.
With a smile, I walked over to Oliver, who was writing his numbers. I ruffled his soft curls as I sat beside him at the table.
“You have lovely handwriting,” I praised, watching his concentration on the number ‘8’.
“Thanks! Daddy says so too.”
I smiled over at Logan, who was busy at the stove once again but wearing a much larger grin than he’d had on when I walked in.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Logan said a few moments later as I watched Oliver focus on the number ‘9’. “Why don’t you go wash your hands, Oliver?”
“Not done yet.” Oliver drew an almost-perfect circle for the number ‘10’, then dropped his pencil. “I’ll be back. Don’t write on that, ’kay?” he said, pointing to his paper.
I held up my hands, smiling. “Promise.”
Once he was out of the room, I almost shrieked as Logan lifted me from my chair and backed me up until I hit the refrigerator. His mouth covered mine, ravishing it while his hands slid under my ass and yanked me upward. His tongue caressed my own while my legs wrapped around his waist, my ankles locking at his back.
As his lips trailed down my jaw and away from my lips, I panted, “I missed you, too.”
A growl was his only reply. His teeth seized my breast through the fabric of my shirt and lightly bit my nipple, which peaked at his demanding touch. Just as I became lost in my desire to have him right then and there, he dropped me to my feet abruptly and turned back to the stove. Oliver reentered not even a second later, rubbing his hands together.
“All clean!”
I stood there, struggling to catch my breath as Logan moved back over with a wicked smirk. “Excuse me, sweetheart. I need to get the milk.”
“Huh?”
A twinkle gleamed in his eye, and suddenly he was pulling me toward him—not for another go, but to gain access to the refrigerator.
“Oh, milk, right,” I said, composing myself.
He pulled it out and placed a kiss to my cheek. “You smell delicious. Promise me you’re mine the rest of the night,” he whispered.
“All yours,” I mouthed. The man had impeccable hearing. Maybe it was a parent thing.
Feeling giddy, I sat back at the table with Oliver. A few minutes later, Logan appeared with plates full of steaming-hot pasta and placed them in front of us. We ate together, enjoying each other too much for me to think of dampening the mood with details of my afternoon. I decided that as soon as Oliver went to bed, I’d tell Logan what happened with Natasha.