Page 27 of Daddy's Heart

I drive to work with his taste still on my lips and the absolute certainty that I'm already in way over my head. But for the first time in years, I can't bring myself to care.

Nine

Emery

"You're glowing."

Logan’s voice cuts through the cloud of lusty distraction that’s been hovering over me since sunrise. I’m knee-deep in the third reorganization of the supply closet, and I still haven’t found inner peace or whatever the hell I’m looking for in these damn bandages. Mostly, I keep seeing Colt’s hands. His dick.

God, his dick was…gah, beautiful. Dangerous. Chef’s kiss.

“I’m not glowing,” I lie, like a liar who is absolutely glowing.

“Honey, you’re practically radioactive. And you’ve been humming that Ed Sheeran song for half an hour.”

Logan leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, smugness leaking from every pore. “So. That storm. How’d it go?”

My neck starts heating like a stovetop. “It was fine. No problems.”

“Mmmhmm. And where’d you weather said storm?”

“Logan—”

“Because your car? Not in your driveway when I did my definitely-not-creepy morning wellness check.”

“Wait, youdrove by my house?”

“Don’t change the subject, Emery Rose.” Full name. Oh, he’s serious now. “Where. Did. You. Sleep?”

He’s relentless, so I give him the partial truth. “Colt’s cabin. Roads were dangerous.”

“And?”

“And what?” My cheeks are basically infernos now.

“And did the grumpy, hotter than Hades’ left nut sheriff finally make his move?”

My silence is apparently a full confession, because Logan lights up like a kid on Christmas morning, if that kid was extremely nosy and emotionally invested in my sex life.

“Oh my God. He did.You slept with him.”

I feel the blush spread over my cheeks before I can turn away to hide it, remembering how good it was to justsleepwith a man for the first time in my life. And how Colt wanted just that. It honestly was perfection.

Logan slow claps with a full tooth smile. “Girl, you look like you got thoroughly ransacked and possibly eaten like a midnight snack. In the good way.”

“Logan!”

“What? I'm thrilled. About damn time someone reminded you you’re a woman and not just Legend’s mom.”

Cue stomach punch. Guilt crashes in like a wave.

I’d been so caught up in the Colt vortex of hands, dirty talk, and that scowl that somehow counts as foreplay, I’d let myself pretend the small, wonderful human I’ve been centering my life around is part of a parallel universe somewhere that will not collide with this one at some point.

“He doesn’t want children,” I confess, the thrill of the past couple days suddenly feeling like a drunken Vegas weekend that needs some cold morning after perspective.

Logan’s expression softens. “Did he say that?”

“I asked if he had any. He said, and I quote, ‘Hell no.’ That felt like a statement.”

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