Indestructible

“How about you just look at it and tell me if you like it?” No way was I getting into a fight today.

I sat up, pulling him with me until he was leaning back against the headboard with me straddling his waist. It was a position we’d been in a lot lately.

“It’s an arrow,” I said sheepishly.

“I see that. Cute. Any reason for it, or just seemed like a good idea at the time, seeing as you had consumed half your weight in tequila?”

I would’ve been offended by his tone if I wasn’t suddenly embarrassed. “It’s you,” I whispered, placing my hands on his shoulders and raising myself up to give him a closer look.

“Gonna need a few more details here.”

“You came into my life out of nowhere: sharp and deadly, but so unbelievable and beautiful, full of so many possibilities and fears. I felt like I’d been shot the first time I saw you standing out on your porch, but I loved it. And I love you.” I curled my arms around his neck and added in a hushed whisper, “And yes, I was also drunk.”

Logan didn’t laugh along with me. He simply continued to trace the simple arrow with his finger, his eyes focused on the smooth line.

“Why only three nocks?” he asked. “Jax to blame for that? He forget to add a fourth to even it out?”

I shook my head, my cheeks warming. “No,” I murmured, staring down at the tattoo. “They represent you, Oliver, and me.”

“Leaving room to grow?”

I smiled to myself, unable to meet the penetrating stare I could feel on me.

He continued, letting the question drop. “I know the feeling of being struck—pierced through the soul. You do it to me every single day. It’s why it’s so important for you to meet my family next week.” He kissed me softly.

“So will your father be there?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yes.” His voice was neutral. He rarely spoke of his father, which left me curious.

“That’s nice. Your parents are still friendly, I take it?”

I always wondered whether, if my father had divorced my mom and stuck around, they would’ve eventually become friends. Probably not as long as my babysitter was bearing his children. The thought made me sad.

“Tell me about him,” I said, wanting to know as much about Logan as he’d offer up.

With me cradled against his chest, he didn’t seem to mind. “He’s a hard ass—works a lot, and always provided for us.”

“When did they split?” I traced lazy circles on his skin with my fingertips.

“Right before Jax and Julia were born. He had an affair.”

I lifted my head to meet his thoughtful gaze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” His hands skimmed down my spine. “He loved her—my mother. Tried to make it work after she found out. So cliché…he was screwing his secretary.” He snorted. “My mother was pregnant, and too good to put up with it. She kicked him out, and Lawrence and I went to stay with some family for a little while until she gave birth.”

He grew silent for a moment—reminiscing, I assumed—and I waited patiently, giving him the time he needed.

“I remember hearing her cry at night, sitting in the nursery. It was only in there that she let herself be vulnerable. I always thought she was sad because the twins slept all day and were up all night. I tried to help her out. I was about eight or so, and it made me feel useful. My dad would come around on the weekends, but he wasn’t allowed to take the babies with us when Lawrence and I stayed with him.”

He cleared his throat, his hand stopping its caress at the center of my back. “You don’t want to hear all this. I’m going to bore—”

“No, keep talking,” I reprimanded, arching back to demand he keep touching me. It was the closest to him I’d ever felt. “I want to hear more.”

His hand began descending down my back, and he continued.

“Lawrence was the one who told me why she was really crying—explained she had a broken heart. It made me want to help even more. By the time the twins were one, the divorce was final. My mother’s a strong woman. You remind me of her at times—especially at the ridiculous speed-dating night Caleb still thinks was a hit. I knew then she would like you.”

“I know I’m going to like her, too. She raised an amazing son.” I felt him press a kiss to my shoulder. “So, do they get along now—your parents?”

Logan chuckled, the rumble in his chest catching me off guard. “That’s the other side of the story: my father’s. He’s always loved my mother, and he never forgave himself. He gave her everything: the house, the vehicles. Still paying her alimony, despite her trying to refuse it after all these years. On top of all that, he bought the house right next to her. Overpaid the owner that refused to sell.”

My laughter joined his. “Now I know who you take after. Persistence runs in the family, it seems. So, does your mom date?”

He snorted. “No.”

“What, is your mother not allowed to have a life? A boyfriend? A lover?”

He sat up, pulling me with him while keeping me nuzzled in his neck.

“No, definitely no lovers for my mother. My father would never allow it.”

I was the one snorting now, appalled. I knew how lonely my mother had been until she found George. No one deserved that.

“They’re divorced. He hardly has a say.”

“Believe me, I know my father. He’d never let someone date my mother.”

“Has any guy ever tried?” I felt even deeper sympathy for the woman now. They’d divorced almost twenty years ago, for crying out loud.

“Not that I know of, but then again, my mother’s private life has always been just that: private,” he said, either losing interest in the topic or not wanting to discuss whether his mother had had sex in the last couple decades.

“Well, I think your father should want her to be happy.” I rolled over to face him.

“He does—with him.”

What? My face pinched. “They’ve been divorced for how long, and he still wants her? Has he dated since?”

“Yes,” Logan sighed, his hands now slipping lower. I swatted them away, wanting to better understand his parents’ dynamic. My business or not, I needed to hear it.

“Okay, let me get this straight: He cheated while she was pregnant, even though he was so in love with her, and now even though she’s divorced and free to date, he won’t allow her to. Am I hearing this correctly?”

“Beauty and brains. God, I’m a lucky son of a bitch.” His headed dipped, mouth looking for some company when I flew up, pushing him back.

“Wait, no, that’s just…wrong. Your dad’s an ass.”

Logan burst out laughing, nodding his head. “You’re adorable when angry, you know that?” A spark of wicked desire lit his eyes. I held him back, my palms flat against his chest.

“Sex after you admit your mother deserves to move on and find a man to make her happy.”

He shook his head, which stunned me even more. “I can’t. I agree with him wanting to hold out hope for her. And even thinking about making love to you while we’re talking about my mother’s sex life is…not okay.”