Logan trails off, shaking his head.
“He’s told me about Amy,” I say, keeping my voice gentle. “I’ve only heard his side of the story, but it sounds like she did a number on him.”
Logan gives one of his humorless laughs. Mac doesn’t seem to have those in him and I’m glad because I wouldn’t want that cold laugh aimed at me.
“You’ve got no idea,” Logan says. “Amy eviscerated Mac. I don’t know what she’s like now, but I met her several times while they were married. She was sweet and soft-spoken and never argued and never broke a rule and all the while she was destroying Mac’s fucking soul, cheating on him with everyone including Mac’s own base commander. You wouldn’t believe the things Amy told Naomi to turn her against Mac. Maclivesfor that kid. We’d be in the middle of a mission and the whole world would stop because it was time for Mac to call his daughter. He never missed an occasion in her life. He spent eighty hours on cargo planes flying back from Africa just to spend four hours at her high school graduation. He risked a dishonorable discharge after eighteen years of service to go to her the first time she overdosed. And all the while, Amy’s telling Naomi that Mac abused her.”
I nod. I’m so glad Mac told me about that, even though it was hard to hear and made me question the foundations of our relationship.
“I’m not trying to get between you and Mac, Bren. I just want you to see that he’s different from Ten or the other Doms you’re used to?—”
I hold up my hand to stop him.
“I would never compare Mac to Ten.” Particularly after Ten’s freaking tantrum. “I know Mac’s a very good guy. I know he’s devoted to his daughter and I’m sorry I was pissy he left to deal with her when I was dropping. I’ve apologized and I’ll try not to be an asshole about it again.”
Logan’s lips twitch. “You have no idea how badly I want to discipline you for that mouth.”
“You have no idea how grateful I am you’re not my Dom.”
Logan chuckles. “About that. You know I’ve asked Mac to move in with us once the third floor’s finished.” At my nod, he says, “You’re welcome, too. Emily would love to have you live here anyway, with or without you seeing Mac, but if you’re exclusive, then it makes even more sense. I can show you the blueprints if you’d like to see what we’re doing, but Mac’s going to have a suite of his own.”
“Mac mentioned you want this to be a family house. Are you sure I wouldn’t be stepping on your toes, sir?” I clear my throat before I clear the air. “I always got the impression that you didn’t like me very much.”
Logan nods. “Your brand of smart-assedness rubs me absolutely the wrong way in a scene, but I have no issue with you outside of one. You’ve been a good friend to Emily, and for Emily. She was feeling displaced when she first moved down from Syracuse and you helped her settle in and feel a part of the club. I haven’t thanked you for that, but I should. Whether or not you decide to move in, don’t be a stranger, Bren. And don’t ever think that I don’t like you. I’d have to beat you unconscious in a scene, but otherwise, we’re good.”
His grin tells me he’s kidding about the beating part. Mostly.
I’m an absolute bag of nerves as we approach the sunshine and rainbow-covered doors of New Horizon Rehabilitation Center. I shouldn’t be. Mac and I have had two great days together, between his recovery of my design book, the ride up through the fall foliage with Napa, Wreck, and Tiana on the giant vibrator Mac calls a bike, pizza and head-to-head Frogger last night, to say nothing about the four orgasms he gave me this morning, making love, and it was making love, for hours. I should be as chill as if I’d just come out of the spa.
But the anxiety swirling around and around in my belly is going from cold to hot to cold until I feel like I have the fucking flu and the IHOP French toast and hickory bacon strips I had for breakfast are in serious danger of making a reappearance.
What if Mac’s daughter doesn’t like me? What if she thinks I’m trying to replace her mom, or take Mac away from her?
I scowl at my reflection in the glass doors as Mac opens them. It’s not that I look bad. My dreads are under control in a long braid down my back. I’m pink-cheeked from the riding and orgasms, so I’ve kept my makeup understated: just eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss. A blue and black sweater Bebe J gave me fits under my leather jacket without being too tight or revealing. I don’t want to be flashing my tits at Mac’s daughter. I’ve paired the sweater with black leather pants that are comfortable for riding. Now I’m worried they make me look too young, too edgy. Is Naomi some preppy college kid who will hate me on sight because of my dreads and Docs? I chew at my lip, tasting the faint peppermint of my lip gloss, and switch the bouquet of Black-eyed Susans I’m holding from hand-to-hand while I wipe my sweaty palms on my ass.
Mac glances at me, slips his hand under my elbow, and draws me off to the side of the two-story reception room with its round desk, empty seating groups, and a cheerful fire crackling in a central fire pit.
“Tell me what’s wrong, girl.”
I bite my lips. “Just stressing, Sir.”
“About what?”
I glance at the lady in blue-and-white-striped scrubs sitting in the receptionist surround. “Aren’t we on the clock, Sir?”
“Doesn’t matter if we are or not. What’s important here, girl?”
I blow out a long breath. I’m still getting used to being important to Mac.
“Sorry, Sir. I’m just a little nervous to meet your daughter.”
“What’s making you nervous?”
“I just hope she doesn’t hate me. Have you ever introduced a girlfriend to her before?”
“No, I haven’t.” Mac smooths his knuckles down my cheek. “Do you think I’m going to think any less of you if Naomi doesn’t take to you, girl?”
My stomach settles a little. Mac doesn’t let other people’s opinions influence his decisions; I’ve seen that again and again. “No, Sir. I mean, I hope not.”