Page 17 of Shattered
Like the way my boy's face lit up when he saw Logan, or how he couldn't stop talking to Logan on the drive home. How was it possible that Flynn felt so comfortable with this man we barely knew, and I so uncomfortable? So out of my element.
When we pulled to a stop in my driveway, I couldn't get out of the truck fast enough. I watched as Flynn high-fived Logan before sprinting up the steps. The thing that caught me was the way he was looking at my son. There was longing all over his face and for a split second, I wanted to take his face in between my palms and kiss that look away.
Whoa.
When he looked my way and his gaze locked onto mine, I was unable to look away. My heart started beating at an alarming pace as he moved toward me. When he was so close that I could feel the warmth of his body fill the space between us, he made a move to reach for my hand but stopped mid-way.
Holding the key to his truck up between us, he said, "You two have a good night now."
Like the idiot he'd turned me into, I just nodded and took the key from him. When he made no move to walk away, I managed to croak out a weak, "Thank you… for the truck."
Logan's eyes narrowed and roved over my face before he gave me that smile again. "Anytime, Sugar." With that, he turned and finally gave me breathing room. But no matter what I did I couldn't get that smile out of my mind.
It was the smile I saw late that night when I slipped into a deep sleep filled with fever dreams.
I was pretty sure it would be that same smile that would shatter me into a million pieces too.
Useless.
Trying to sleep with Harper making her rounds in my brain was useless. Figuring that woman out was just as useless. There was no mistaking the fact that there was at least a mutual attraction between us, but for reasons she alone knew, Harper wasn't acting on them.
I'd seen the little hitch in her breath a few days ago when I'd given her the keys to my truck. I knew she'd felt the same electrifying feeling I had when our hands touched. Of course, it had me imagining how intense it would be if I sank into the warmth of her body and felt her breath on my skin.
I pushed my head back into my pillow and stared at my ceiling, images of Harper immediately blurring my vision. I imagined her looking at me with affection, smiling brightly. Her big, green eyes shining as she leaned in and kissed me. I swear I could even feel her lips yield to mine.
My ears were filled with the sound of my name on her lips in a breathless whisper. If you thought my fantasies about Harper only involved the physical stuff, you'd be dead wrong. I wanted everything! I wanted her mind, body, and soul.
Tired, irritated, and mostly confused I shoved the sheets off me and stalked to my bathroom where I washed my hands and splashed my face with cold water. With my fingers curled around the edge of the cold porcelain, I locked eyes with myself in the mirror. "The hell are you doing?"
I didn't know anymore. There was a small part of me that wondered if I'd still be this obsessed with Harper if she didn't have a son. I would like to think it wouldn't have made a difference. Sighing heavily, I pushed off the basin and decided I needed a change of clothes then coffee and advice.
With my coffee in hand and my cell pressed against my ear, I stared out of my kitchen window. I wasn't bothered that I was calling at 6 am because I knew the man I was phoning was awake. I wasn't wrong because he answered on the second ring.
"It's early, son. Is everything alright?"
And that was Charles Jackson for you, no-nonsense and straight to the point.
"Nothing wrong, Pop. Just wanted to check in."
Dad's chuckle was chased by a bout of coughing; no doubt he'd been smoking in secret again. "If you'd wanted to check in," he eventually said when the fit was over. "You'd have climbed in your truck and done it in person. What's bothering you, Logan?"
I squeezed my eyes shut. The times I'd had a heart to heart with my dad could be counted on one hand. I wasn't the type of person to spill my guts or ask for advice. But if anyone could help me make sense of this storm brewing inside me, it was Pop.
"How did you know that momma was the one for you?" I asked, almost whispering the question. I fully expected my dad to give me the third degree or make fun of me.
He didn't do either of those things.
"Well, son. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that she was my missing piece. I felt it in my bones. I was sweaty from cleaning her daddy's stables and most likely didn't smell too good either, but she still offered me a kind smile and a glass of lemonade." I felt an ache in my chest as my dad's voice took on a wistful tone. I wanted that. I wanted what my parents had.
But I couldn't have all of it, though.
My dad's rich chuckle reached my ears and forced my attention back to what he was saying. "Of course she didn't know it then. That momma of yours made me work for it."
"But it was worth it."
"Yes, son. It most certainly was." There was a pause and then, "I know this has something to do with that lady working at your brother's clinic-"
"Pop."
