Indestructible (17 page)

I waited for almost an hour, debating between going upstairs to apologize again to Oliver before he went to bed or going home. My head shook; leaving wouldn’t help matters. I’d messed up, I’d screamed at the dining-room table, and I needed to deal with the consequences.

When Logan came down with a frown on his face, I felt worse. How that was possible, I wasn’t sure, but it was the truth. He stood in the doorway, which felt miles away both physically and emotionally. Looked like our first fight as a couple was about to hit.

I stood nervously, my clammy hands clutched behind my back.

“I’m so sorry. Jax just had me rattled, and…” I sighed, composing myself. “I don’t know what happened. I swear I just snapped. That’s not like me. Is Oliver all right? Did I scare him?”

Logan nodded once. “He’s fine. Worried about you is all. I’d hoped you’d come up to see him to bed.”

My heart dropped.
“Oh, I wanted to, but I thought…I didn’t want to make it worse. Is he still awake?” I moved forward.

He shook his head, and I stopped. I’d speak with him first thing in the morning and I wanted Logan to know that, but he surprised me with a sudden change of topic.

“What’s going on with you and Jax?”

“What? Nothing. He was just pressing my buttons.” I fell down onto the sofa.

“What buttons exactly? Is something going on with Hilary?”

This was it—now was the time to tell him—but I could never betray Hilary like that. It would also put Logan in an uncomfortable position. Would he tell Caleb? I could plead with him not to. No, in time he’d learn the truth and would have to understand how important loyalty was to me.

“She was over this morning, and we had a fight. She was mad I didn’t call her earlier this week.”

“That’s all?” he asked, unconvinced.

I was a horrible liar—even I knew that—but still, I nodded. “That’s all.”

He didn’t move as he considered me carefully. Would he call me out on what we both knew wasn’t the full truth, or let me keep my promise of secrecy to Hilary?

“Look, I know you’re angry over my outburst, and you have every right to be.”

Logan walked over, and my mouth closed. He stopped directly in front of me, his knees nudging my legs apart before he stepped between them. His heated stare bored into me.

“I don’t tolerate anyone except me raising their voice around my son. However, it was obvious Jax had provoked you. He’ll be dealt with tomorrow. As for you, if you don’t want me angry, then come upstairs next time. Oliver told me to tell you goodnight, and that he loves you.”

He loves me?

I bit my bottom lip as my smile grew, but the fact that I hadn’t been there to hear those words myself twisted my gut. I loved him, too.

Logan towered over me. “And for the record, I was more confused than anything else. I refuse to be in the dark with those I care about.”

I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” He bent down, brushed aside the wisps of hair blocking my eyes, and curled his finger under my chin. His kiss landed on my cheek, easing me out of my own anguish. “We all snap at times. Had Oliver not been there, I’d have kicked Jax out of the room and bent you over that damn table. Few people can shut my little brother up.”

My head reared back in shock. “What?”
My outburst had turned him on?

“It took all the strength I had to keep my hands to myself.”

My smile grew. “Really?”

His fingers slid under my legs, gripping my ass and pulling me into him. “You have no idea how hot you are when you get angry, do you?”

I giggled under my breath. “Hot?”

Apparently, I’d been completely off base with my expectations for the conversation. I'd spent an hour worrying for nothing.

“Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.” My legs wrapped around his waist, his erection digging into my center. “I could have devoured you whole right where you sat.”

“Nothing stopping you now,” I murmured as his lips nipped my neck.

He leaned back enough to meet my lustful gaze, taking me by surprise when he grabbed my shirt and ripped it open. I shrieked and his mouth crashed over mine, silencing me.

I giggled against his ravishing lips. “I want to try that tub of yours upstairs.” He kissed me harder, his lips trailing down to my breasts where his palms cradled and teased the sensitive flesh. “It’s bigger than mine. You ever use it?”

He shook his head, humor in his tone when he released my captive mouth and replied, “Never—I prefer the shower. But with you, always the tub.”

Before I could respond, I was in his arms, being hauled up the stairs as wild anticipation filled me. His tub was built for making love, and I was more than ready for a long night in it.

Chapter Twelve
Enigmas

Passion, pleasure, love—the previous night had it all. This included lavender-scented bubbles that had splashed over the marble floor in Logan’s bathroom, which was exactly where we found ourselves when the sun came up.

Wrapped in his arms, I was wonderfully and utterly satisfied. My limbs were wracked with beautiful exhaustion, but I was still on my feet the moment his alarm buzzed from his bedroom. With a low chuckle, Logan opened his eyes. His stare was all I felt as I skittered around, throwing my hair in a messy high ponytail and hopping into a pair of jeans from my bag.

To say I was anxious to be the one to wake Oliver would’ve been an understatement; I
needed
to be the first person he saw when those little blue eyes peeked open. I tugged on a shirt and decided to forgo socks—or anything else, for that matter. Oliver wouldn’t notice, and I couldn’t bear the thought of Jax getting there first.

“Might want to try again,” Logan said, rising to his feet.

“Huh?” I asked, nearly tripping over myself in my rush to the door. I stopped and twisted back, sucking in a rapid breath at the close proximity Logan had acquired so quickly.

His finger dipped inside the neck of my shirt and pulled up the tag that was supposed to be in the back.

“Backwards,” was all he said, but his hands were already taking care of the issue. I lifted my arms and he reached down, gripped the fabric, and dragged it over my head.

He held my shirt in his hands, his held tilting just the slightest, eyes filling with a deep-rooted desire. He had that look again, and now was so not the time.

“No, no more!” I snatched the shirt, made sure the tag was in the back, and pulled it back on.

“Not even a kiss?” he teased, a soft pout on his lips.

Lord help me, I’m doomed.
As I was about to lean in to give him the best damn kiss he’d ever experienced, I heard a door creak open, followed by heavy footsteps.

Jax!

Spinning around with not so much as another glance at Logan, I yanked the door open and flew out into the hall, sprinting to Oliver’s room.

Jax stood a few feet away. He was stopped mid-step, his tired eyes wide, gaping at me.

“In a hurry to get somewhere?” he asked, stretching his arms out at his sides.

“I’ve got Oliver this morning. You can go back to bed.”

“I was just heading out. Unless Logan’s running late, I’m not one to wake the little prince. He can be a terror in the mornings.”

“I doubt that.”

“Uh-huh. See you around, doll face.” He tugged a strand of my hair as he walked past.

Turned out Jax was right: Oliver wasn’t much of a morning person. After I weaved through landmines of dinosaurs covering the floor, it took multiple wakeup announcements and a few minutes of rubbing his back before those little baby blues finally peeled open.

“Cassie!”

“Hey, little man! Or should I call you little prince?” I sat beside him on the bed.

“Uncle Jax says I’m the prince of the house.” He looked extremely pleased by that.

“You sure are. Now, what would the prince like for breakfast?” I scooted over as he sat up, wiping his eyes. His blonde curls were adorably wild.

“Pancakes!” His words were a high-pitched squeal, abolishing any last hold of sleep that clung to him.

“How about oatmeal? I can see what fruit we have lying around to add to it.”

“Um, no, I want pancakes.”

So here it was: the moment I had to be the bad guy. I could either cater to his every whim, which would only end badly in the long run, or make it clear that as much as I adored him, I wasn’t a pushover.

“How about scrambled eggs and toast?” I suggested, hoping he’d make it easy for me.

“Pancakes! I like your pancakes.”

“Oliver.”

It was Logan’s voice that interrupted, but I who took Oliver’s hand and, with nothing but kind sincerity, told him, “I’m not making pancakes. This weekend we can have them, but not on a school day. The other day was a special treat. So what do you normally eat before school?”

He understood and even smiled, despite a small twitch to his lips. It was more of an ‘Oh well, I tried’ expression than an actual frown.

“I like oatmeal. With apples cut real tiny.”

“I can do that.” I drew him in for a quick hug and whispered, “Sorry I didn’t say goodnight last night.”

“It’s okay.” He leaned back and swung his legs off the bed, knocking over a giant T-rex in the process.

“You gonna introduce me to these dinosaur friends of yours this weekend?” I asked, standing.

Oliver jumped up, excitement bright in his eyes. “Will you play with me?”

“Of course, but right now you need to get ready for school.”

He leapt up, grabbed a stack of clothing sitting on his dresser, and headed into the bathroom.

“Brush your teeth,” Logan called out to him just before he shut the door.

When I finally looked his way, Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed. It wasn’t a smile that greeted me—more a thoughtful stare.

I walked over to him. “I’ll go start chopping apples.” I lifted myself up on my toes and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you.” He took my hand and brought it to his lips. “You’re too good to be true.” After a kiss to my knuckles, he walked past me toward Oliver’s bathroom door.

I left them to their morning routine, a peaceful calm settling into a place in my heart I never knew existed before that moment.

I couldn’t have asked for a more perfect morning. Once my boys were out the front door, all smiles, I crawled into Logan’s bed that had been neglected overnight and fell quickly into a slumber. With no alarm set to wake me since I was still out of work for a while longer, I could’ve napped the day away if not for the piercing scream that bounced off every wall in the house and smacked me square in the head.

My body shot up, and on pure instinct I whipped the blanket off and leapt up. There was no time to think or process—only to react. Adrenaline roared through my system, fueling my movements as I scurried out the bedroom door in nothing but a long button-up of Logan’s.

Once in the hall, I followed the sobs and curdling blubbers until I found myself outside Jax’s bedroom door. The cries quieted and I took a moment to catch my breath. After I took a fretful look at the knob, my brain fired to life, processing that something was very wrong on the other side of that door.

My pulse quickened as realization sank in. I knew opening the door could lead me to see something I’d rather not if on the other side of it lay some sordid roleplaying episode, but the next words that rang through the door left me no choice.

“Stop! Please stop!”

My head spun as I flung open the door to find a gangly teen boy broken down in tears, laid out on a folding massage table. Jax sat over him, a tattoo needle in his hand.

It wasn’t what I’d expected—at all.
Guess Jax isn’t playing for both teams after all.

“Ah, shit!” Jax grumbled, switching off the needle and placing it on a tray beside him.

The boy sat up with a wince. “I’m sorry. You’re gonna finish, right? You can’t leave it like this!” he bellowed, staring down at his side where the word ‘Jam’ was etched.

“‘Jam’?” I asked, more so reading it aloud than asking. I poked my head closer, tilting it to the side for a better look. The script was perfect—Jax had talent—but ‘Jam’?

“Jamie! It’s Jamie. I just…I need a break, okay?” the kid explained, breathing hard.

Jax looked annoyed and unimpressed. “I’ll give you ten minutes. Then either pull it together or I’m rescheduling you to finish it. Last thing I need is you passing out.” Jax stood, pulled off his gloves and threw them in the trash, then stalked toward me. A dipped brow framed his heavy scowl.

On instinct, I stepped back into the hall, my eyes on him. I waited as he closed the door, giving the kid some privacy.

As soon as the latch sounded, I screeched, “How old is he!?”

“Eighteen,” Jax replied with easy confidence.

“Are you sure? Did you see his ID?” My face screwed up as I began pacing the hall, questions firing rapidly through my mind.
Is this legal? Could the kid’s parents sue Logan, since it was his house? How many times has Jax done tattoos here? Is it even hygienic?

Jax chuckled. “Calm down. I check every ID. Caleb even taught me how to spot a fake. The kid in there’s a freshman on campus—just a pussy, that’s all. I get them from time to time.”