Chapter Eleven
~Clare~
“Just breathe,” I told myself for the hundredth time as I stood on Logan’s front porch staring at the brass knocker that adorned his door. While his words regarding the next time we were alone may have totally turned me on at the time, I was now a complete and total disaster. It had been a week since he slept in my bed and held me while I told him teary-eyed memories of Ethan. I don’t know how he knew, but I needed that. I needed him to know Ethan, at least through my eyes. I didn’t think I would ever find someone to care for after Ethan died, and now that I had, I didn’t want Ethan’s memory to fade. I knew I couldn’t be in a relationship with two men, but I also couldn’t forget the man who taught me to love in the first place. After all, he gave me Maddie, the ultimate gift.
When he met me at the cemetery, held me in his arms as I sobbed and let me grieve the man I had loved and lost, I knew. I may have already been there, or on my way, but seeing him so selflessly giving himself to me in my grief. That made it real. When I awoke the next morning, and found Maddie cuddled between us, his arm wrapped around her, in a protective embrace, I knew I wanted this man to be my future.
The front door I had been staring at opened, startling me.
“You gonna stand out here all day?” Logan asked, leaning against the door frame as he casually threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.
“Ah, no. Sorry. Scatterbrained.”
“You mean nervous?” he said, motioning to the overnight bag that was slung over my shoulder.
Blushing, I nodded. The overnight bag had been a huge cause of contention between Leah and me. She told me to pack it. I told her it was being presumptuous.
“Presumptuous, Clare?” she said “He invited you over for dinner. After telling you the next time you were alone, he was going to ravage you senseless. I think you’re being a little dense. Pack a bag so you don’t have to brush your teeth with your index finger.”
I gave in and did as I was told. But having never packed an overnight bag, I had no idea what to bring. When I dated Ethan, we were in college and in the same dorm. If I spent the night in his room, I just ran back to my own in the morning for a quick shower, and vice versa. I didn’t know what went in a “spending the night at my boyfriend’s house” bag. Did I pack pajamas? Or was that prudish? Did I bring shampoo, or should I just use his? I settled for the minimum. A change of clothes, a sexy nightie, a bit of makeup and a toothbrush.
“No need for nervousness, Clare. You hold all the cards tonight,” Logan winked as his eyes traveled the length of my body, making me instantly flush.
“Did I mention you look amazing? Downright f*cking beautiful,” he declared.
And every bit of nervousness I had evaporated as his pale blue eyes meet mine.
He could have me. Here. Now. Any way he wanted.
“Dinner, Clare. We have to eat first,” he breathed in my ear.
“Right. Food,” I said, blushing.
Chuckling, he led me in through the front door and I took a look around. I had only been here briefly to drop things off or to pick him up, so I had never actually been able to take a leisurely stroll through his house. You would expect a young bachelor like Logan to be somewhere downtown in a loft apartment, full of steel and high end furniture. Instead, Logan’s home was from the turn of the century and tucked away in an older neighborhood outside of Richmond, not too far from my house. I ran my hand over the hand carved banister that probably dated back to the nineteenth century as we made our way to the fully remodeled kitchen.
“Logan, your house is stunning. It’s definitely not what I would have expected when I first met you,” I admitted.
And now?” he questioned, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. He was dressed casually tonight, jeans, a black t-shirt that showed off his tight stomach and arms, no shoes. It was sexy.
“I can see it. It suits you.” And it did. I could see his trademark style everywhere. From the acoustic guitars that lined the living room to the global artwork and photography of places he’d visited that decorated the walls. He had created a home, and he probably didn’t even realize it. He didn’t spend much time here, but somehow he had created a space for a family. It’s like he was waiting for it to be filled, hoping the empty space in his heart will one day be filled as well.
“You’re cooking for me?” I asked as he moved to the stove and began stirring something in a pot.
“I did ask you over for dinner. Did you think we were ordering pizza?”
When my answer came in the form of a wry smile, he laughed, tossing a kitchen towel in my direction.
“You did think I was going to order a pizza! I’ll have you know that I can cook, woman!” Grabbing the kitchen towel he tossed on the floor, I walked to the stove to take a peek in the pot.
“Marinara? You’re making spaghetti?” I guessed.
“Ah, no. I'm making pizza,” he answered quietly
“You’re making pizza?” I said, doing everything I could to keep from laughing.
“I said I could cook. I didn’t say what!”
“All right,” I relented, heading over to the sink to wash my hands, “what can I do to help, Emeril?”
Shaking his head, he pointed to the cutting board filled with mushrooms and various other toppings, “Start slicing the toppings. God, you’re a pain in my ass!” he laughed.
We settled into a comfortable rhythm, while I sliced and he rolled out the dough. He spoke about his last shift at the hospital and the busy evening he had. I discussed how Maddie decided she needed to go to the beach. I had been looking up favorite destinations all week.
“We should go together,” he suggested.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he affirmed, “but not just any beach. We should take her someplace great. Pick someplace and we’ll go. Anywhere.”
“Okay,” I answered, a little out of breath. Had we just planned our first trip? Butterflies fluttered in my belly, and I tried and tame them by changing the subject, even though all I wanted to do was jump up and down screaming “He’s Mine! All Mine!” To absolutely no one. Maybe I’d save that one for a more public place. On second thought. Maybe I should keep that little cheer to myself.
“What are you smiling about?” he asked as I realized he was staring at me.
“Huh? Oh. Um. You.”
His sly grin shifted into a high beam smile, and wow. He was stunning when he smiled like that. I mean, he was always gorgeous, but when he smiled like he did right now, he was downright panty melting hot.
“Good,” he stated.
Once the pizzas were out of the oven we skipped the dining room table and instead opted for the floor in front of the fireplace in the living room. Logan gathered pillows, a few blankets and a tray, and we took our plates and wine and settled comfortably into our makeshift picnic.
“You really like picnics, don’t you?” I asked him.
“I really like picnics with you,” he corrected, before adding playfully, “They always go really well for me.” He took a bite of his pizza, and I did the same. I nearly moaned as the flavors hit my palette.
“Oh yum. This is good, Logan.”
“See, I told you I could cook,” he defended himself.
“I’m never ordering pizza again. I’m just calling you from now on,” I said, diving into my second piece.
“So that’s all I’m good for now? Pizza?” he mocked.
“Oh no, you have many, many uses.” Wow, look at me. Seductress extraordinaire.
After I finished off everything on my plate, I had the need for something sweet. “So, you made pizza for dinner. What are you making me for dessert?”
“Dessert? Oh crap. I forgot!” he exclaimed.
“You damn well better be joking, Logan Matthews,” I warned, folding my arms across my chest and pouting.
“Do you really think I would risk certain loss of limb and not have dessert for you? I’m many things, but stupid is not one of them. I’ll be right back,” he announced, jumping up, tray in hand, headed for the kitchen.
Moments later, he returned, with the tray again, but this time it was filled with ice cream, candy, fudge and whipped cream. I clapped my hands together like a five year old child.
“Ice cream sundaes!”
“It’s the best I could do. You don’t want anything I baked,” he confessed, as he rested the tray back down on the floor.
“It’s great! Absolutely perfect!”
I started to build my masterpiece, loading it up with goodies. He even bought coffee ice cream. He never missed a thing. Logan dug into the vanilla and we made our sundaes in a comfortable silence.
“Why didn’t you ever go back to teaching?” Logan asked as he added the finishing touches to his sundae.
“I honestly don’t know,” I admitted “I guess I had always planned on going back, but just never got around to it. When Ethan first got sick, the school was very supportive. If I needed a day off to be with him during chemo, they gave it to me without question. But then he got worse, and the days turned into weeks until I eventually had to take a leave of absence. I told them I’d return when he got better, but he never did.”
I remembered looking in on Maddie as she slept, days after becoming a single mother, knowing my life would never be the same. Knowing I couldn’t possibly leave her alone, and feeling like I needed her more than anything in the world.
“After his death, I could have gone back. They hadn’t filled my position, and I had the entire summer to grieve, but the thought of leaving Maddie killed me. I never thought I’d be a stay at home Mom, but I just kind of fell into it. Thanks to Ethan’s meticulous planning, we have more than enough to live on for quite a long time, and I knew I’d never get these years back. I have considered looking for a position next year though, after she starts kindergarten. I do miss teaching. Teenagers are an interesting breed.”
“Oh, I bet,” he laughed. “I feel sorry for the boys in your classes,”
“What? Why?” I asked, confused.
“Having you as a teacher? They probably had to hide their mammoth size boners the entire class period. I know I would have.”
“Oh my God! That’s so not true!” I gasped, grabbing a chocolate chip from the nearby bowl and chucking it at his head.
He ducked and the chocolate sailed past him and landed near the fireplace. All laughing aside, his voice grew serious, “You have no idea how devastatingly beautiful you are, do you?”
“No,” I whispered as he angled his body toward mine.
His fingers brushed the burgundy colored curls off my bare shoulder as his mouth found my collar bone.
“You’re breathtaking,” he murmured, kissing the curve of my neck and nipping my ear lobe causing me to shudder.
“Absolutely stunning,” his lips traveled up my chin as his hands wrapped around my back to haul me closer.
“And so goddamn f*cking sexy,” he growled before he claimed my lips as his own, branding me with his mouth, and taking my very soul with his kiss. Our tongues moved together as he leaned forward, pressing me into the nest of blankets and pillows laid out before the fire.
He pulled back and his eyes quietly searched mine, “We don’t have to do this tonight. I’ll wait. For however long it takes, Clare. I’m yours,” he whispered like a prayer.
Being sure to never break eye contact, I carefully brought my hands to the buttons of the sexy green dress I’d worn, slowly unbuttoning each one. His eyes flared with heat, but they never left mine. Finishing the last button, I pulled the two pieces of fabric apart, hearing his hissed response.
“Touch me, Logan.”
He didn’t hesitate. He pulled me up around the waist, my legs instantly wrapped around his torso as his mouth devoured mine. Sliding the rest of my dress off my shoulders, his eyes seemed to memorize every curve of my body. I should have felt exposed and intimated in just my black lace bra and thong, but I didn’t. I felt seductive, confident and sexy as hell. Deciding Logan was a little overdressed for our party, I moved my hands under his t-shirt and felt the hard ridges in his stomach and his killer upper body as I pushed the shirt up. He took over, doing that hot thing guys do with their shirts, grabbing the back of it and yanking it off, leaving nothing but Logan. Every muscled sexy, edible inch.
He saw the flash of desire in my eyes as he reached a hand behind my back for the clasp of my bra. Oh so slowly, he slid the straps down my shoulders, letting the bra fall to the floor. Gently, he laid me back down on the blankets, and sat back on his heels to admire the view.
“God Clare, you’re perfect,” he said, looking at me like I was a feast and he couldn’t decide where to start first. Leaning down with his eyes still locked on mine, he took a nipple in his warm mouth, causing my body to bow off the ground. His hand cupped my other breast as he worked my nipple with his mouth, rolling it, flicking it and pinching it with his teeth. I moaned as his mouth shifted, working my other breast with the same lovely torture. Just when I thought I might actually come from this alone, his mouth traveled down my belly, stopping at my panty line. Glancing back up at me, he grabbed the two strips of fabric at my sides that made up my thong and slowly slid it down my body.
“Jesus,” he cursed, “Spread your legs for me, Clare,” he demanded, his voice low and rough.
I did as he said, spreading my legs wide, exposing myself to him completely.
“So f*cking beautiful.”
I felt his hands caress my ankles before they moved to my knees and finally my inner thighs, pushing my legs wider. His head lowered and he slowly kissed is way up my thigh, working his way closer to my core. I was shaking with need and wet with desire.
“Do you want my mouth on you, Clare?” he asked as he fingers grazed my slick folds, causing a wave of pleasure to zing through my body.
“Yes!” I pleaded.
“Remember how I said you hold all the cards tonight? You have to tell me what you want.”
“Oh God, do it Logan, please!” I begged. I had lost all control and had no problem with begging him to get what I so desperately needed.
“You need to be a bit more specific, sweet Clare. What do you want me to do?” He was taunting me, driving me wild with his sexy voice as much as with his fingers as they continued their lazy journey.
“Lick me, Logan,” I demanded.
Before the words were barely out, his head descended and I was in heaven, my body ignited in flames as his tongue and mouth began their dark dance. Licking and teasing me, he pierced my body deeper, driving me closer to the edge. I moaned and cried out as the pleasure grew, building, climbing higher until I screamed out my release.
Still reeling from my orgasm, I almost didn’t notice we were moving. With my arms and legs wrapped around his body, he carried me upstairs to his bedroom, carefully laying me on the bed. Done in dark grays, with splashes of red, Logan’s bedroom was very masculine and neat. But it could have been purple and covered in unicorns, and I probably wouldn’t have noticed as soon as he started to undo his belt buckle. I noticed the slight shake in his hands, and wondered how much he was restraining himself. The jeans and boxers came next and he let them slide the floor, leaving him bare before my eyes for the first time. Clothed Logan was sexy. Naked Logan was every woman's fantasy come to life. His body was flawless. Muscular and lean in all the right places, thanks to years of running and weight training, and lord, he was huge. Fully erect and begging to be touched. My tongue darted out to wet my lips as I thought about wrapping my mouth around his hard length. As if he could read my mind, or maybe my facial expressions were really that obvious, Logan groaned as he walked forward.
“I still have the taste of you on my tongue and if you keep looking at me like that, this is going to be over really quick.”
Stopping at his nightstand, he opened it to pull out a condom, and then hesitated before settling his eyes on me.
“Clare. All the other women before you,” he breathed out.
Uh, why are we talking about this? Now?
“I never brought them here. I’ve never brought a woman to my bed. Ever,” he confessed, looking at me with those stormy blue eyes. Trying to comprehend what he just said, it dawned on me.
“Wait, never? But you were married.” I said.
“We had separate rooms. I set it up that way in the beginning because I thought it would allow her more sleep with my crazy schedule. Looking back now, I realize it was my attempt to keep distance,” he recalled.
“But what about earlier, when you weren’t married? Surely, you had her over?” I seriously couldn’t believe we were sitting here naked talking about his ex-wife. I seriously couldn’t believe I could form a sentence right now, with him looking like that, other than “Seexxxxx.”
“Ah, no. We always lived apart, and when we were together, we were at her place. Never mine. I’m sure she noticed, but she never said anything.”
“Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.
“I wanted you to know, because you are the only woman I’ve ever wanted to share my bed with, or bring home. Clare, you are my home.”
And with that, I melted. Ex-wives and pasts are forgotten as I gave myself to him completely. Our bodies tangled together, as his hands and mouth mapped my body, taking over and fueling my desire.
Feeling his hard body on top of mine, I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, feeling him hard against me. Pausing briefly, he reached for the condom on his nightstand, but I grabbed his hand instead.
“I’m on the pill,” I assured him. Having had horrible cramps since the day I turned thirteen, I’d been a lifer.
“Are you sure? I was tested right after I met you, but I would still understand,” he said, doubt clouding his features due to a past filled with regret.
“I trust you, Logan.”
He closed his eyes, savoring each word, before kissing me slowly until we were breathless.
Breaking apart only to look me in the eyes as he vowed, “From this moment on Clare, you’re mine.” He sealed his words as he entered my body with his own, filling me completely. He paused briefly, allowing my body to adjust to his, running his hands up and down my thighs.
“So beautiful,” he whispered, pulling out and thrusting back into me, making me gasp and moan at the same time. Every move, every caress was slow and sensual and his eyes stayed constantly locked with mine. He gently stroked my hair and kissed me slowly as we made love. In and out, his body moved against mine, as I felt the pressure begin to build inside of me. As if sensing my climb, Logan’s thumb reached down between us to find my *, flicking it once, twice and I’m done, pleasure spiraling out of control.
With my legs still wrapped around his hips, he lifted me up in his lap, keeping us joined.
“Ride me. Like you did in the car, Clare,” he instructed.
Placing my hands on his broad shoulders for leverage, I moved, sliding up and down his hard shaft, riding him as his arms wrapped around my body and our eyes locked.
“That’s it, Clare. You feel so f*cking good,” he moaned before devouring my mouth again, palming his hand on the nape of my neck. With a growl, I was instantly on my back again, Logan moving us around the bed as if I was weightless. Like a guitar string that snapped, the last shred of Logan’s control disappeared as he pushed my knees forward with his palms and drove into to me, sending me into a second orgasm as he came apart, letting out his own release with a roar. Both still breathless and unable to form words, he gathered me in his arms, pulling the blankets over us, as he began stroking my hair. Soon, the exhaustion of our lovemaking took its toll and sleep claimed me.
~Logan~
I awoke the next day, finding the room filled with sunlight as it streamed through the old windows, illuminating Clare’s beautiful red curls who slept against my chest. She’s was so beautiful. I kept telling her that, but I don’t think she would ever understand the world through my eyes. Her beauty radiated from every pore. It wasn’t just one feature, or characteristic. It was her, entirely. Her body, the way she carried herself and the kind of person she was made her beautiful.
Unable to stop myself, I ran my hand down her cheek, loving the feel of her skin, reminding me of how it felt to have her body moving with mine. Last night had been life altering for me. I had joked with Clare that once she was with me, all other men would be ruined in her eyes, but it was the opposite. I would never want another woman the way I wanted Clare. After experiencing something so cataclysmic and monumental, I could never go back to my old life of bar hopping and one night stands. Clare and Maddie were my future, and I would give anything to become the man they deserve and needed.
“Hey,” Clare said with a faint smile, her voice groggy and full of sleep.
“Good morning, beautiful.” I answered, bending down to kiss her full lips.
“Last night was...” she began.
“...amazing,” I finished.
“Well I was going to say ‘absolutely f*cking amazing’, but yours works too.”
Grinning, I shook my head. “Such language, Clare.”
She rolled her eyes and started laughing. I began laughing with her.
“So, are you going to cook breakfast for me, too?” she asked sweetly.
“Of course. But first I thought we should shower. You know, because being dirty is bad,” I suggested as I slowly pulled the sheet down exposing her perfectly rounded breasts, causing her nipples to harden instantly.
“Yes, wouldn’t want to be dirty, would we?” she agreed, obviously playing along with my ridiculous game, as her eyes darkened with desire.
Ripping the sheet off her body entirely, I rose and threw her over my shoulder. She squeaked as I headed to the bathroom.
“Logan! Put me down!” she squealed.
“Nope, sorry. Gotta make sure you get to the shower properly. I’ll have to join you, too. To make sure you do a good job.”
She giggled, smacking me on my bare ass, before I sat her down in front of the massive shower.
“Holy shit, this place is huge!” she exclaimed.
“Yeah, I wasn’t a fan of the granny style the previous owner had, so I had it completely gutted and redone. Doesn’t exactly fit with the age of the home, but I figured they didn’t have bathrooms back then, so who cares?”
I loved this bathroom. I had always secretly envisioned sharing it with someone, which is why it had double sinks and an extra-large shower, both of which would come in handy today. I ducked my head in and turn on the shower, and waited for it to warm up before we entered. I didn’t waste a second, pulling Clare flush against my body, letting her know how much I wanted her. Last night our lovemaking was slow, a buildup of two people getting to know each other’s bodies, but today was about passion. As soon as our bodies collided, I had her pinned against the shower wall, spreading her legs wide.
“Wait,” she said. I stopped completely, not knowing if I had hurt her or taking things too quickly.
“Turn around, with your back against the wall,” she commanded, her voice full of purpose.
So f*cking hot.
Letting her legs slide back to the floor, I turned around, and followed her orders, keeping my eyes on her, wondering what she had planned. I found out seconds later, when she immediately dropped to her knees, taking my hard cock into her warm wet mouth.
“F*ck!” I cursed, as she slid her mouth down my entire length, and pulled back, sucking me root to tip. The delicious torture continued as she rolled her tongue over the sensitive head of my cock, then slid back down, taking all of me. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked in and out, over and over, my hips involuntarily thrusting to meet her welcoming mouth.
“Clare, I’m gonna come,” I called out, giving her a warning if she wanted to pull away. But she just wrapped her hands around my ass, pulling me tighter against her mouth and continued. My balls tightened, and my cock grew ever harder until I came. Hard. Panting, I stared down as Clare took every last drop I gave her, and then looked up as she licked me clean.
Holy f*cking shit.
Without thinking, I knelt down, grabbed her around the waist and wheeled us around to our previous position against the shower wall. After watching her lick me clean, I was already hard again, and I wasted no time, surging into her as I wrapped her legs around my waist. I relentlessly slammed my body into hers, driving us both to ecstasy.
“Oh God, yes!” she screamed as I thrusted into her over and over again.
I felt my balls start to tighten again, and I knew I couldn’t hold on for much longer. Clare’s inner wall started to squeeze my cock and I knew she was about to come.
“Logan!” she yelled, and I felt her release, as her body tightened even more, gripping my cock like a vice, sending me into another endless orgasm.
After I caught my breath, I carefully slid us both down to shower floor, afraid my knees might buckle.
“This is by far the best shower I’ve ever had,” Clare said, breathless.
“I agree. We should do this every day.”
She laughed, shaking her head, and smiled. And there it was, the new reason for my existence.
To make her happy. No matter what.
We finished our shower, letting the water slide down our slick skin as we washed each other’s hair and bodies. I left her in my bedroom to dress as went to the kitchen to make breakfast. Seeing her in my house and in my bedroom brought something out in me. It was foreign, and unlike any other feeling I’d known, but I recognized it for what it is. Pure male possession. She was mine now, in every way, and each minute she was here in my bed and my arms, made that feeling grow. I had never felt possessive of Melanie. When I discovered she was cheating on me, I lashed out, finding Gabe and taking my fist to his face, but only because I thought that was how I was supposed to react. In reality, I understood why she strayed. I was never there to anchor her in the first place.
As I began heating up the griddle, I heard her walk into the kitchen and felt her arms wrap around my waist from behind.
“You’re making me pancakes?” she asked, resting her head against my back.
“And bacon,” I added, pointing to the package of bacon sitting next to the stove.
“Mmm..you’re my hero.”
Turning so I could face her and see those vivid green eyes I’d become enchanted with, I laughed before asking, “I could really get you to do just about anything if I used food as the incentive, couldn’t I?”
“Well, it really depends on the type of food you’re offering. Veggies? Probably not. But if you offered me a chocolate cake with peanut butter frosting? Well then, yes. I’d probably become your sex slave for life. Wait, where are you going?”
Walking over to my cell phone, I picked it up and start punching buttons.
“Finding a bakery obviously,” I answered.
She thought I was kidding.
“You are not!” she squealed.
“Oh, I so am. And then I’m going to lick every bit of frosting off your delectable body.” I promised darkly.
“Um.”
She was speechless. I don’t think I had ever reduced her to speechless before. Score one for Logan.
Just as I was about to punch in the number for the bakery I found, a call came in on my phone causing me to groan.
“Shit,” I muttered.
“Who is it?” Clare asked, her voice was full of concern and she stopped pouring the pancakes to check on me.
“My mother,” I told her before I hit receive, bringing the phone to my ear.
“Hello Mother,” I answered.
“Oh Logan darling! How are you? It’s been so long since I’ve heard your voice.”
Well, I did have a phone. She could call me. But I didn’t say that. I had learned that even when I did speak to her, my mother only heard what she wanted to.
“I’m well, thank you,” I said politely, as I started pacing the kitchen. Whatever reason she was calling for, I hope she got to the point soon. Her voice was ruining my mood, and Clare didn’t need to get caught up in the f*cked up mess that was my family.
“Good, good,” she replied, before continuing. “Listen, I have wonderful news! You’ll never guess!” Oh I was sure I already knew. Before I could even respond, she blurted out, “I’m getting married! Again!”
Yep. I knew it.
“To whom?” I asked, mustering up as much excitement as physically possible. I had no idea why I even bothered.
“Robert Erikson. He’s a banker. We’ve been seeing each other for a while now. Surely, I’ve told you about him?” She hadn’t, but it didn’t matter.
“Well, that’s wonderful mother. When’s the big day?”
“In four weeks! You have to come! It’s going to be lovely.” She continued on, telling me about wedding colors and the venue, and a million other things I didn’t care about. I heard about half of it as my focus centered back on the beautiful redhead currently making pancakes in my kitchen.
“Well, that’s really soon. I’ll have to check my schedule at the hospital,” I said, fully planning on doing the exact opposite, with a follow up call a week later apologizing for my absence.
“I know we would both love for you to be there,” she emphasized.
We said our goodbyes, and I walked back to where Clare stood in the kitchen. I wrapped my arms around her waist, feeling myself settle, and center.
“So, your Mom? You’ve never talked about her,” Clare asked cautiously.
“That’s because she’s a gold-digging, self-centered woman who cares more about her next purse or pair of shoes than she does about her children,” I answered bluntly.
“She’s getting married?”
I nodded my head, saying “Don’t get too excited. I think this is number four, maybe five. Weddings are her thing. Marriage...not so much.”
Scrunching her brow, she asked, “What do you mean?”
“I don’t know all the particulars because no one in my family talks to each other, but from what I’ve gathered over the years from various household staff and family friends is, at some point, my parents actually loved each other. I’m guessing that’s how Eva and I came about.”
I couldn’t imagine my father feeling warmth toward anyone, but apparently for a short time, my mother was his world.
Sitting down with our breakfast, Clare looked at me with those bewitching green eyes that begged me to continue, and so I took a breath and carried on.
“A short time after Eva was born, my father caught wind from some family friends that Mom’s flamboyant behavior was not going unnoticed in their social circles.”
“Flamboyant?” she questioned.
Pushing the food around on my plate, I answered, “See, the type of social circle my father belonged to, and still does is refined, full of old money. Traditional. My mother showing up with pink high heels would have been considered scandalous.”
“He left her for being different?”
I nodded. “He quietly had divorce papers drawn up, and less than a year later married my robo-stepmother. There is nothing more important to my father than image.” The words rang so true in my head. I hadn’t spoken with the man since I moved. Since he told me I’d f*cked up, and was an embarrassment to him. It wasn’t like I was arrested for DUI. My wife cheated on me, and yes it made the papers. Shouldn’t a father be supportive and be there for a son in a situation like that? Not mine. Nope. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Is that what he did with you?” she asked.
“What? Cut me off? Yeah, but I wasn’t living on his money anyway. Every dime he’s ever given me, I’ve put away and invested. I worked throughout college to pay for all my expenses, and have been living off my own income ever since. I knew my father wasn’t reliable, and didn’t want to ever be financially dependent on him,” I explained.
Apparently I had inherited one thing from him, a good financial sense. Planning for my eventual banishment was the best thing I could have ever done, but it meant that I always knew he would eventually do so. Well I had news for him, if he ever wanted to take a look at my stock portfolio he would find out that I’d learned quite a lot from him over the years. The small amounts of money he’d given me for graduations, living expenses and other accomplishments had grown exponentially. I was worth millions.
Thanks Daddy.
“So are you going to your mom’s wedding?” Clare asked cautiously, leaning back in her chair as she sipped her cup of coffee.
“No,” I answered immediately.
“Logan. She’s your mother.”
“Only on paper. She gave up all rights to me and left me with that man. Alone.” I snapped.
Her elegant fingers wrapped around my arm tenderly, making me regret my bitter words.
“Just think about it, okay? We could go with you. I’d like to meet her, to know someone in your family.”
That was the last thing I wanted. Bringing her and Maddie into the batshit crazy world of the Matthew’s family? Hell no. But more than that, I wanted to make her happy. So I just nodded.
“Okay, we’ll go.”