Mending Hearts: Logan's Story Page 3

  Lana – ick. Logan bit back the words that came to mind. Lana Peters was not a trustworthy sort. Why Candice valued her opinion so much he’d never know.

  “Where are you taking us?” Candice asked while tucking the phone back into her pocket.

  He glanced over. “Does it matter?” When she didn’t respond, Logan gave her a vague answer. “Nowhere in particular.” Which was true enough, though as he sped down the dark road, an idea came to mind. He’d head toward Betty and Grant’s place, see if the snowman he’d built with the kids was still intact. With that decided, Logan put his mind back on the topic at hand. “Sounds like – from what you’re saying at least – that your mom and Boyd have a good time together. Make the other laugh and all. That should be a good thing; right?”

  “I don’t know why you always have to do that,” Candice said, turning to face him now. There was that heat from her glare again.

  “Do what?”

  “Play devil’s advocate all the time. Whenever I have a point of view on something you have to swoop in and make me feel like I’m some… fun-spoiling prude.”

  Logan’s eyes widened. “My comment made you feel like a fun-spoiling prude?”

  “No, it didn’t make me feel like that, but I think that’s what you were going for.”

  “I wasn’t going for anything. I was having a conversation with you. Giving my perspective. Or is that not allowed?”

  A deep sigh passed through Candice’s lips. “This is why I’m happier without you.”

  Her comment was like shattering glass. Sharp. Dangerous. And a telltale sign that something was broken. Possibly beyond repair. It was the very mystery that had eluded him earlier. The puzzle he couldn’t quite piece, snapping into place before him: Candice looked happy. She had looked very happy in the small glimpse he’d caught of her when he had walked into Marge’s home. And it all seemed to drain away the moment she’d caught sight of him. Logan hadn’t even put a rational thought to it until now, yet the encounter had been just as piercing as the words still pulsing through the small, stuffy space between them. Happier. Without you.

  “Then what are we waiting for, Candice?” Logan cranked the wheel to pull the truck off the road. A pile of slush parted as he tore through it, bringing the truck to a stop. “If you’re so damn happy without me and completely miserable with me then why don’t we just get the papers going and make it official?” His heart picked up a mean beat. His body wanted to be in motion, pacing up and down the icy street, or hitch-hiking his way out of this mess, not sitting inside the stuffy cab of his truck with the woman he’d devoted the last decade of his life to.

  Candice looked down at her hands. “Because we’re still on the list.”

  Logan tipped his head. “Ah. The list.” No two words held more clout. They’d practically worshiped that blasted adoption list, done everything humanly possible to make themselves stellar candidates. “I thought that expired already,” he lied.

  She shook her head. “We’re on there until April twenty-third.”

  So that’s why she hadn’t moved things along yet. The acknowledgement only added to the lump of insults he’d endured that night. He shook his head, flicked on his blinker, and steered the truck back onto the road. “You know,” he said after a bit, “I don’t know why’d you’d even want to have a baby with me. If you’re so unhappy with me then why not pursue the divorce, get remarried, and get on the list with someone else?”

  “Because you’re not the problem, Logan. Marriage is. I’ve given it a lot of thought the last few months and I’m done trying after this. I won’t get married again, and I won’t put myself on any more lists. I’m happier when I’m not holding my breath.” She shifted in the seat, setting her gaze out the window. “And it feels like that’s what I’ve done throughout most of our marriage.”

  Her words were a sober blow. Logan gripped the cold wheel with clenched fingers, recalling the time his twin brother had challenged him to hold a handful of sand in his fist without letting it go. He’d been young and dumb enough to accept, only to find that no matter how tightly his fingers clenched, the small grains would always sift right through the cracks. His situation with Candice gave him a similar sensation. Watching helplessly as the woman he loved slipped right from his grip.

  He’d given Candice space since moving back home, just like she’d asked. But he’d been praying something would happen to bring the two together once more. He figured the agency would’ve called by now. Heck, he and Candice had gotten their first call mere months after getting on the list the first time. How was it that over a year had gone by without so much as an interest?

  Sounds of the moment took over as he mused further. Slush splitting beneath the tires while he drove. The low hum of a country tune drifting from the speakers. And the quiet sniffles coming from her direction.

  There were things Logan wanted to say, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t get himself to speak. He let her words sink deeper instead. Candice had given up, that much was clear. While he’d been hoping things between them would change, she’d been silently counting down the days. Well he wasn’t ready to give up just yet. Logan gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling his resolve. No, he’d taken vows with this woman while promising her the world. He just needed a little more time to make good on it.

  ~ + ~

  The silence in the cab of Logan’s truck was painful. Candice had known her words would hurt Logan, but it still felt good to get them out. The only reason she hadn’t pushed through with the divorce was because of that list. Their last chance to adopt a baby. Of course, time had cured Candice of any real hope that they’d get the call, but she couldn’t live with herself if she ruined her chances by getting a divorce before their time on the list expired. Who could live with a what if like that hovering over them?

  A deep shudder rocked her limbs, making her tug the sleeves of her coat over her hands. She blew into the openings, warming her fingers with her heated breath.

  “You cold?” Logan sounded surprised.

  Candice glanced at him. “Yes. It’s freezing.”

  Logan pressed a few buttons on the brightly lit panel of his truck, and soon a blast of warm air poured over her. He reached toward her then, lightly nudging her leg with his arm as he opened the glove box. There, in the small, lit compartment, was a pair of gloves. Her gloves.

  “You still have these?” she asked, picturing them in his old car.

  Logan shrugged. “I wasn’t going to throw them away.”

  She nodded, reaching in to secure the soft, salmon colored gloves, and pulled them onto her hands. “Thanks.”

  It remained quiet until he steered the truck in front of Betty and Grant’s place. “What are we doing here?” she asked.

  Logan backed up before coming at the yard from a different angle. “Seeing if my snowman stood the test of time. Well, it’s not just mine. Made it with the kids.”

  Once pulled to a stop, he flashed the bright headlights onto a giant, snowy creation. Three massive snowballs – more like snow boulders – one on top of the next, created the largest, most magnificent snowman she’d ever seen.

  A genuine laugh escaped her throat. “Wow, are you kidding me? This thing is awesome.” She cracked open the door, ready to jump out of the truck when Logan piped up.

  “Wait. What are you doing?”

  “I’m getting out so I can take a look at it.” Candice stepped onto the floorboard and jumped. The snow at her feet was slippery, packed down from the tire tracks, but she caught herself with the help of the open door.

  Logan was at her side in seconds. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. “Fine.”

  He moved toward her as if he was about to take her hand, but then stopped short and cleared his throat. “Good.”

  “This is amazing.” She approached the glistening display with a reverent tone, appreciating – even more than its symmetrical appeal – the flaws. True marks of a child’s touch. It’s what she lov
ed about being a teacher. Allowing kids to do certain things themselves, letting them create with their own small hands and growing minds. “Who made this with you?”

  “Let’s see,” he said, “we had Blake’s twins, Jaxson and Jonah. Luke was here too.” Logan bent down, scooped some snow into his hand and began packing it into a ball. “I came out here Saturday to get the feed ordered with Grant. Betty told me the grandkids were all coming out for a snow day so I went back to get Sophie and Carter too, you know, Allie’s new niece and nephew.”

  “That sounds nice,” she said. “I met those guys at the wedding. They’re adorable.” Her gaze wandered over to the snowman. The face on the thing made her smile. A large, crookedly placed carrot in the center. A rose bud for one eye. An old, rusty penny for the other. A combination of leaves, pebbles, and metal bolts made up the mouth. She laughed out loud when she got to the buttons, the top one made up of a pale pink wad of chewed bubble gum. “Who put their gum in there?”

  Logan laughed. “Gross, huh? It was Jonah. The kids all got a good laugh out of it.”

  She shook her head. “I’m surprised it stayed in there. Bet it froze the moment it hit the snow.”

  “The funny part is that it stuck to him first. He had to pry it off his glove while I created that little groove so it wouldn’t fall. Nearly knocked the whole thing over.”

  Candice tilted her head, noticing the indent he spoke of. “All that just so a kid could stick his nasty gum on a giant snowman.”

  Logan shrugged. The action drew her eyes to his shoulders, had her wondering if they were larger than she remembered. Had he been working out? Her eyes traveled up to his face next. From the humble-looking smile at his lips, to the finely trimmed facial hair accenting his strong jawline. His dark hair, lightly streaked with hints of sun, was longer now. The tousled strands giving him that slightly-messy appeal. Her heart did a strange, out-of-beat clunk, reminding her of its fragile state.

  She took a step back. Logan must have every available woman in town after him now. “Do you ever think about dating?” she asked.

  His smile faded. “What do you mean?”

  Candice turned away from his gaze, affected by the hurt she saw in his eyes. “I mean, don’t you have people telling you they want to set you up with this person or that if things don’t work out?”

  “Do you think about dating?” He sounded horrified.

  She turned back to him. “I already told you I don’t intend to have a relationship with anybody after this.”

  He motioned between the two of them with a pointed finger. “This, being us. You and me? As soon as this is out of the way you’ll be free to go on with your happier-than-you-ever-were-with-me life?”

  “Look,” Candice snapped. “I don’t think this is going well. You keep misunderstanding everything I say.”

  Logan took a step forward, the beam of the headlights casting a dark shadow across one side of his face. “Maybe that’s because we haven’t spoken to each other in months.”

  Maybe he was right. Logan held her gaze, drawing her into some deep pit of longing. Longing for him. “It’s probably best if we just … if you just take me home.” She spun around and headed toward the truck, suddenly anxious to get back to the warmth of the cab. She’d been through enough today, hadn’t she? It was time to –

  “It won’t be your home for long,” Logan said.

  Candice froze in place, thinking of a response. It was a low jab, and she couldn’t believe he’d stooped to it. She was about to turn around, give him a nasty glare, and say the first horrible thing that came to mind when an icy chunk of snow pelted her in the back.

  “Ouch!” She spun around quickly now, ready to chew him out when she got hit again, this one smacking her shoulder. “Stop that,” she hissed.

  Logan bent down, dug into the snow once more and grabbed another hunk of it. “I don’t want to stop.” He tossed this one underhand, like he was pitching a softball.

  Candice lowered her hands and caught it in her gloved palms. Logan was baiting her. He wanted her to play, did he? Fine. She’d join in long enough to pelt him in the face and then she’d go to the home that – as Logan so eloquently pointed out – would not be her home for long. With a narrowed glare set on him, Candice wound her arm back, pressing the tips of her fingers into the packed ball of snow. Through the gloves, she could feel it condense into a tighter, more solid structure.

  At last she let it fly. A wide smile pulled at her lips as it sped right toward Logan’s face. She cringed when it got closer, surprised that he wasn’t ducking or moving out of the way. Just before the speeding ball struck his face, Logan’s hand flew up to block it, breaking the snowball into a hundred little pieces. Several icy parts splattered his face.

  He chuckled, deep and hearty. “That’s my girl.” He was picking up more snow. Candice did the same. Turning her back to him, she patted the heap into something she could throw. The feel of a light thud on her back said Logan had just let his go. Now it was time to get him good.

  She barely recognized the sound of her own laughter as it floated through the air, accompanied by one flying snowball after the next. Some went beyond the headlight’s beam, seeming to vanish altogether. For Candice, it became an unspoken rule to stay within the lights, and she told Logan as much when he slunk into the shadows.

  “Hey, get back where I can see you. That’s cheating.” With a loose heap of powdery snow in her hands, Candice slowly spun in place. “Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sang with a laugh.

  Breaking her own rule now, she wandered slightly beyond the light, listening for his footsteps. They came in the soft, squeaking sound of crunching snow. She froze in place, unwilling to make a sound as he neared her. She heard his breathing next, constant and evenly paced, each measure bringing him closer. She turned her back to him, shrunk her neck into her shoulders, and giggled in anticipation, feeling like one of her students at recess.

  Just as the breaths and footfalls neared, Logan’s strong hands gripped around her waist. The feel of them sending an involuntary thrill to rush through her. Candice ducked her head to one side, tossed the snow over her shoulder, and laughed when she heard him groan.

  “Aw, man, right in the face.” She could hear the smile in his voice. Couldn’t fight back a grin of her own at the confirmation that she’d gotten him. Logan brought his mouth to her ear, speaking in a throaty whisper. “You’re going to get it.”

  A mass of goosebumps spread over her arms and legs, the effects of his warm breath and teasing threat making her limbs go weak.

  He brought her down gently, cradling her as they fell to the snow. And then he was above her, shouldering his weight as their laughter fused into one, glorious sound. A familiar one that made her recall good times spent with Logan. Like when the two were dating. A time when all they had to do was fall in love. It felt nice. And so did he. The warmth of him above her.

  Candice’s mind raced. She didn’t have time to dissect what was happening. Not even a moment to slow things down. His cold fingers found her neck, teased her skin as he brought his mouth close to hers. Bells were going off somewhere in her head. Warning bells. This is not what she’d been working toward all these months. She’d been planning to let go of Logan Emerson forever. But the thought only made her want him more.

  He leaned in, causing a wild spell of euphoria to spill over her body.

  So close. So good. She licked her lips, desperate to drown out the distant warning at last. Dying to satisfy the need building within her.

  Logan ran his parted lips along her ear lobe. More goosebumps.

  Come on, Logan. Just kiss me before I get ahold of myself.

  When the waiting became too much, Candice returned his affection, letting her warm breath graze the muscled edge of his jaw, kissing him just beneath it. His skin there was warmer than she anticipated, and slightly rough, like sandpaper. When she kissed him there again, he groaned. A deep, masculine sound that had Candice grasping
for more. Logan always did know how to own her, and in that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be owned by him.

  At last it came – the slightest touch of his lips to hers. A memory of their very first kiss. Mmm. Yes.

  She lifted her head, ready to take more when Logan spoke against her lips.

  “Move in with me.” The raspy sound of his whisper, deep and needing, almost masked the words he’d said. It took her a moment to sift through the rapture, get to a point that she could make sense of it.

  Had he actually asked her to move in with him? If the feelings he’d stirred in her were rising fast, they had fallen flat at his request.

  She pulled away, backing her head against the snow. “What?”

  “Just think about it.” His mouth went to her ear, almost rousing the emotions once more, but she resisted, lifting her shoulder to block him.

  The thrill continued to dissipate as she stayed in her rigid state, stunned by the events of the night. Logan showing up. Her mother getting engaged. Logan stealing a kiss she was actually begging for. And now he was asking her to move in with him?

  Logan grunted as he shifted to his side. He sat up, ran a finger over her knee. “Your mom’s getting married. You’ll need a place to stay.”

  She jerked her leg away, not wanting to be affected by his touch. “Where are you living now?” It was something she hadn’t wanted to know. The less details of his current life the better. But now her curiosity was winning out.

  “Allie’s place,” Logan said. “They moved into Braden’s. I’ve considered buying the home, actually. Earl will put cash toward the purchase since he won’t need to give up any more of his land for us to build on. Might be a good idea.”

  “Hmm.” Candice had always loved Allie’s home. Her and Terrance built just what she and Logan would have, had they stayed and assumed the land from his dad. She pictured Allie and the girls moving out of their home after the wedding. “Was it hard for Paige and Jillian to leave it?” Moving out of the house she was raised in after her father died was one of the most difficult things Candice had ever done. Of course, Terrance hadn’t died. He’d simply divorced their mother and left.