When his hand cupped mine to bring the napkin higher so he could see it, I realized how close I’d stepped. The heat from his body diffused into mine as my skin buzzed under his fingertips.
He frowned. “Huh. That does look like blood.” The warm kitchen light fell across his hair and skin, making all of it glow golden. He glanced up, his eyes meeting mine, then flicking to my mouth.
The storm clouds were fully overhead, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.
His fingers shifted, lighting up the back of my hand as he drew a breath, slow and shaky. My hands started to tingle. My pulse thudded in my ears.
Logan moved toward me, and when my heart felt like it was attached to the other end of his jumper cables, a crash made me jump out of my skin.
“Shit.” Logan dropped my hand and peered into the sink. My plate. He’d knocked it off the edge of the counter where I’d set it.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have?—”
“No, it’s not broken.” His breathing was shallow and quick.
I stepped back, searching for the trash. There was a bin at the end of the island, so I beelined for it and tossed the napkin. “I should?—”
“Yeah,” he jumped in, rubbing the back of his neck. “I should take you home.”
“Right.” I turned in a half circle, then pointed at my shoes. “Thank you so much for dinner.”
“Oh, no problem.”
“And for saving my life.” I shot him a cheesy smile.
He huffed a laugh and snagged his keys from the bowl. “Uh, also my pleasure.”
I lost my balance and slammed a hand into the wall to keep from falling over. “Sorry.”
“Do you want to use the bench?” He pointed at the seat by the coat closet.
“No, I’m good. Just—it’s late, I guess.” I shoved my second foot into my shoe. “There. Okay. Ready.”
Logan nodded to the door. “After you.”
Chapter
Sixteen
I discoveredtwo things about Jenna the next day. One, her brother was a mechanic, and two, her brother’s shop was only a few streets over from Logan’s condo. He sent a tow truck over first thing, which left me free to make my weekly sojourn to Rob and Shar’s.
It didn’t disappoint. Carter was warm and heavy in my arms. He made a tiny sighing noise, scrunched his face, then melted against my chest like I was the safest thing in the world. His hair was soft, downy fuzz that made my heart do a ridiculousboopevery time I looked at him.
Shar flopped onto the couch beside me with the energy of someone who hadn’t slept since the Trudeau years. “He likes you.” She stretched her legs out and wiggled her toes. “How are you enjoying being a certified aunt?”
“I kind of expected a badge. Or a tiara. Maybe a pin?”
“No pins around babies,” she said automatically, then snorted. “Listen to me. I’m one week postpartum and already thinking about safety hazards. Do you know how many outlets are in this house?”
I glanced around the living room, but didn’t see plug-ins. Instead, my eyes caught on the laundry basket overflowing with tiny onesies and cotton blankets, a half-packed diaper bag by the door, and the textbooks stacked on the coffee table. “This is insane, Shar. I have no idea how you’re functioning.”
Shar leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “Honestly, neither do I. My boobs finally don’t feel like they’re about to explode, though, so that’s something.”
“Carter, did you figure out breastfeeding?” I cooed. A sentence I never in a thousand years thought I’d say before I graduated.
Shar shifted, adjusting the pillow behind her back. “Oh, he didn’t have a choice. Stubborn little bug.”
I laughed, brushing a finger over Carter’s impossibly tiny hand. “He is stupid cute.”
