Chapter 8

LOGAN

“Mommy, I think there was a ghost in the hotel last night.”

Maggie turns around to look at her son, who’s racing the superhero off the dresser. “There are no ghosts, honey.”

“But there are,” Chase argues. “I heard scary moaning at night. ‘Oh, yes…Oh god…’”

Maggie presses her hand on her son’s mouth to shut him up. I pretend like I didn’t hear him imitate his mother.

“It was super scary, and you were in the bathroom, so I hid inside a blanket.”

Maggie huffs. She sneaks a look at me, but I continue pretending like packing my suitcase is the most interesting thing I’ve ever done in a while.

“It was probably just the wind,” she says.

“It wasn’t. I’m glad we’re leaving this haunted hotel.”

Maggie looks at me like she expects me to tell the kid that it was really the “wind” and not his mother riding his stepfather’s dick, but I will not open my mouth.

That kid might be my responsibility now, but I won’t transform into a father figure overnight and pretend to teach him manners, something I can’t do to save my life.

Speaking of manners, it’s painful to see Maggie struggling to keep the kid in line, and now she wants me to help.

The hotel staff loads our luggage into the car, and we’re driving back to my house.

Chase is in the backseat. His chatter momentarily pauses since Maggie gave him an iPad. He’s busy playing some car-racing games on the device.

Maggie hasn’t said a word to me since she left my bed last night, and I haven’t pushed her to speak. If she wants to pretend that nothing happened between us, that’s okay with me.

She avoids looking directly at me unless she wants to say something relating to Chase.

If it wasn’t for the child posing as a buffer, this could have been a lot more awkward than it already is. Maybe she didn’t enjoy the sex last night.

But that’s not possible. I can tell if a woman was faking it, and Maggie’s moans were a hundred percent real, so I’m not sure what’s this all about.

MAGGIE

I’ve been avoiding conversation with Logan, but not because I hated what we did last night.

It’s hard to look him in the eye knowing how I was desperately seeking that release, moaning shamelessly, even though my child was sleeping with a wall between us.

Sue me. I was a little drunk on the wine that I’d downed in the bathtub.

I didn’t know how to talk to him after that, so I left his bedroom and went directly to bed.

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, Chase opened his mouth and talked about the “moaning ghost” of the suite. Maybe Logan didn’t notice, but I’d seen him trying to stifle a smile.

Logan’s house is an enormous colonial mansion on the outskirts of town. This is his family home where he grew up and the house I frequented as a kid until he was sent to a boarding school.

During that time, I only saw him during his holidays for a short time. We used to be such good friends, and the age difference didn’t matter, as I always considered him a friend, and then shit hit the fan.

But I’m not going to recall all the painful memories, the time that I was so completely crushed that I had to move to another state for university.

We never talk about that past because it’s so much easier to just pretend it never existed, or the fact that we’re different people now.

“WOOWWW, am I going to live there, Dad?”

“Yes,” Logan responds.

“How many people stay here?” Chase fires another question.

“My dad lives here with me. Apart from him, there are about ten staff members.”

“What do these staff members do?”

I can tell that Logan is getting annoyed with all these questions, so I decide to put him out of his misery.

“Chase, what did I say about annoying other people with your questions?”

“But Logan isn’t ‘other people,’ he’s my dad now, right, Dad?”

Logan’s lips press into a thin line. “Of course, son.”

He’s forcing himself to be nice, I can tell. Logan didn’t ask for this. He’s only doing this because he wants to fulfill his father’s wish.

It’s only a matter of time before his cold exterior breaks and he loses it. When that happens, Chase and I will probably be FedExed back home with priority shipping.

“There’s a garden, too, Mommy!” Chase jumps out of the car when Remy opens the door.

The old caretaker smiles at me. “Hello, miss.”

“Hi, Remy! You look handsome as always.”

He smiles politely. “I’ll take your bags to your room upstairs.”

“Can we get a swing set, Daddy?”

“Sure.”

“How about a slide?”

“No problem.”

“I want to see my bedroom!” Chase races inside the house, nearly knocking over the plants on his way.

Logan leads me upstairs through a foyer where pictures of Logan’s college years hang on the wall. The house is the same as I remember, but it feels strange to be back here as his wife.

Remy puts my bag inside a master bedroom, which I know belongs to Logan. It feels surreal to call his bedroom mine.

My gaze shifts to the bed. It’s king-sized and dominates the center. There’s a small shelf of books on the left with two doors on the right side.

As if he reads my mind, he opens the doors and shows me that one is a long walk-in closet, more like an attached dressing room with clothes hanging, formal suits, and casuals.

Shoes lined up on the other side, a collection of his expensive watches, ties, bow ties, cuff links, and things I didn’t think men bothered to use.

But Logan’s different. He cares a lot about his appearance, mostly in public, so it’s not a surprise that he’s such a clean freak.

“Dad, where’s my room?” Chase asks for the millionth time.

“Chasey, you have to be patient.”

Logan ignores Chase and shows me the master bathroom. It’s the size of my bedroom back home. It has a big-ass shower and a bathtub facing the front yard.

Chase’s room is on the same floor, with a few doors on the right. As soon as he enters the room, he squeaks with joy.

The room is twice the size of the bedroom he had back home, and there are tons of books on a small bookshelf, action figures lined up at the top of it. There are also stars stuck on the ceiling.

Chase is already busy opening his new toys.

“You’re the best dad in the world.”

“You’re welcome,” Logan says. His face is devoid of emotion.

“Mommy will be in her bedroom unpacking, okay, sweetie?”

“Okay.” He doesn’t even look at me.

Since Chase is no longer with us, it’s the suffocating silence that’s bothering me. I’m relieved that Chase likes moving here, and he’s not being difficult about changing his school.

When we’re back inside my new bedroom, I turn toward Logan. “I didn’t get a chance to say this, but I’m really thankful for everything that you’ve done for us, for Chase, mostly. He loves his room.”

Logan shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I hired an interior designer who took care of everything.”

“It’s still very thoughtful of you.”

He doesn’t say a word, and it bothers me.

“Is there a reason you’ve been so quiet?” I ask him.

“I didn’t expect you to leave my bedroom last night after what happened.”

“Oh.” I have to act surprised. “I was just worried that Chase would wake up and come find me.”

“I understand that you’re very protective of Chase, but you need to be a little stronger. It seems to me like you go easy on him when you don’t need to.”

“I’m going easy on him?”

“Yes. You let him do whatever the fuck he wants, so he thinks if he cries or throws a fit, he gets his way.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “What do you know about parenting?”

“Nothing, but I know what you’re doing isn’t correct.”

“Chase is—”

“Don’t expect me to treat him the same way. I find my patience running thin at times. When that happens, I’ll do what is best according to me.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to bother with him too much. He’s my son.”

I shouldn’t have said that.

He scoffs. “Right.”

“Where’s John?” I ask about Logan’s father.

“He’s resting. You’ll see him at dinnertime.”

And then he leaves the room and slams the door behind him.

***

Logan doesn’t show up at the table at dinnertime, which is what I expected of him. I think he wants to avoid conversation with me.

On second thought, he’s not very enthusiastic about Chase and me being part of his family now.

John, Chase, and I sit around a table for ten people.

Chase passes a piece of chicken onto John’s plate. “This is for my grandpa.”

John’s eyes crinkle with affection. He already loves Chase, which is a relief.

“Why isn’t Dad at the table?”

John looks at Remy. “Where’s Logan?”

“He’s in his study. There’s a lot of pending work that needs to be done.”

“Are you making excuses for him?”

“Not at all, sir.”

There’s mashed potatoes and gravy, roasted chicken, baked salmon, and lamb chops with some creamy mushroom sauce. The family cook is exceptional, but I have little appetite left.

John gives me an apologetic look. “I have to apologize for my son’s behavior.”

“It’s okay, John. I know how Logan can be sometimes.”

“I’m so happy to have you and Chase as a part of our family.”

“Me too.”

***

I put Chase to sleep in his room. It’s hard to put the toys away and get him in bed.

When I’m back in my room, I’m nervous because Logan is already there. He’s wearing sweatpants, and my gaze travels up to his taut abs and trim waist.

A few hours ago, that mouth was sucking on my breast, and those hands were exploring my body.

He looks at me, and there’s a heated look in his eyes, or maybe I’m imagining it.

“Is Chase asleep?” he asks softly. It’s nearly a whisper.

“Yeah, he usually sleeps through a hurricane.”

Logan nods. “I hope he does, because I’m going to take my time with you.”