“Wow. I had no idea,” Meg says, tilting her head as she looks at Carson.
“Trust me, there is a lot of things you don’t know about me, beautiful. First one is, I’m very patient.” He winks before carrying the bread to the table. Leaning with both hands braced on the counter behind her, she looks over at me beside her with wide eyes.
Ducking her head, she whispers, “Was he just flirting with me?” Her face is flushed, and she looks completely scandalized.
Patting her arm, I say, “He’s always flirting with you, Meg. You just haven’t been paying attention.”
Scrunching up her nose, she looks down at herself and back up to me. “But why? I’m old and married.”
How does she not see what the rest of us do?
“You are a beautiful woman, and you are only five years older than him. Remember when you said you’re married, not dead? It’s just harmless flirtation, enjoy it,” I say, leading her by the hand to the dining room where Carson has saved her a seat next to him.
Dishes have already been placed in the centre of the long harvest table. Logan took the lead and organized who was bringing what and everything smells heavenly. As I watch our chosen family fill their plates and break off into smaller conversations, Logan slides into the seat beside me. Taking my hand in his, he places it on his thigh and squeezes it a couple of times. “Hi baby. Are you having a good time?”
“I am, thank you for doing this.” I lean further into his side, and he kisses the top of my head.
“It feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispers, beaming with joy.
“Yeah, it really does.” Leaning back, I peer into his loving brown eyes, and ask quietly, “Do you ever wonder if we were meant to go our separate ways so we could find each other again?”
“What do you mean?” His eyes narrow in confusion.
“I don’t know. Just how different our lives would have been if we stayed together, away at school and,” I trail off, knowing I don’t need to say the rest because he already knows. “I love this version of us and the people we have surrounded ourselves with.”
“Me too. I just wish this version happened a lot sooner.” He gently places a kiss on my lips before we are pulled into conversation with our friends.
After asking Logan endless questions about garden gnomes, I convinced a very sleepy Ben to cuddle into the spare bed and watch a movie on my tablet. Claire, who’s always prepared, had packed his favourite Spiderman pyjamas in her magic bag and by the time I left the room, he could barely keep his eyes open. He is such a sweet little boy, I’m grateful that I get to enjoy these quiet moments with him.
I’ve just reached the bottom of the stairs when I hear a firm knock at the front door. “I’ll get it,” I call over the sound of laughter coming from the kitchen. I can’t imagine who could be here unless Sam changed his mind and brought his new friend. That would be amazing, I would love to meet them.
Opening the door, I am shocked to see Logan’s doppelgänger on the other side. Jackson. The brothers could be twins but everything about the younger man is darker and not just in appearance.
He’s dressed in black from head to toe: leather jacket open over a tight-fitting T-shirt, ripped jeans, and Doc Martens. Behind him, I can see a street bike parked on the side of the road. Where Logan’s hair is lighter brown and a little grown out, Jackson’s is dark and cropped close to his head. Logan’s eyes are warm, chocolate brown, and his brothers are dark and hard as stone. His tattoos extend up his neck and down the back of his hands to his fingers.
“Oh, Jackson. Hi, it’s nice to see you.” Standing in the open door, my voice sounds a little too cheerful for how uncomfortable I feel. Should I invite him in? What’s the protocolfor inviting your boyfriend’s estranged, convicted felon brother into his home?
“Is it?” Narrowing his eyes at me, he looks me up and down with his legs spread and arms crossed. “Where’s my brother?” he demands.
Awkwardly, I gesture behind me. “Umm he’s inside. We just finished up dinner, I can go get him.”
“My invitation must have gotten lost.” He snarks, shaking his head.
Okay, what the fuck is his deal? I didn’t expect he would be thrilled to see me, but his rudeness is a little much.
“Who’s here, baby?” Logan comes up behind me, looping his strong arm around my waist, peering over my shoulder. “Jackson, what are you doing here?” He straightens. His body immediately becomes tense as he pulls me back, putting some distance between his brother and me.
“Are you not going to invite me in? That’s kind of bad-mannered, don’t you think?” he taunts humorlessly.
Ignoring his question, Logan presses firmly, “What are you doing here?”
Jutting his chin forward, he asks, “What? Am I not allowed to visit my big brother on the holiday?”
“We haven’t seen each other in years – holiday or otherwise.”
“Well, you knew where to find me, it’s not like I could go anywhere.” He glares back without blinking.
“And whose fault is that? You could have text or called me if you wanted to talk, you didn’t need to just show up.” Logan’s voice is cold and harder than I have ever heard it before.
