“Logan—”
“Millie, not asking a lot.”
I stared at him.
Then I shared, “I offered Justine a job yesterday.”
His head tipped to the side. “Say again?”
“I’m always booked,” I began to explain. “I sometimes turn down clients. I can stop doing that and use the extra income to take on a part-time worker. I can also shift some of Claire’s responsibilities to Justine. I can then shift some of mine to Claire. I ran the numbers and it works. I take a minimal hit to my personal income that I’ll barely feel. And I’ll have more time.”
I stopped talking and Logan just stared at me.
So I kept talking.
“I called her last night before you got home and Justine was ecstatic. I could afford to give her a raise in salary to what she’s making now, not much but everything counts, and working with me, she’ll rarely have to put her son in day care. Same with Claire, who’ll take on more responsibility. I talked to her too. She’s on board. It’s all fixed. Justine is putting in notice today. She’ll be on payroll by Thanksgiving, which is my busiest time. Bonus to that, the two Christmas clients I had to turn down I could pick up. I called them yesterday and did that too. They were almost more ecstatic than Justine.”
I again stopped talking.
Logan again just stared at me.
So I called, “Logan?”
“My girl,” he whispered, and I felt warmth flow through me at his tone.
“Logan,” I whispered back.
“She wants somethin’, she doesn’t fuck around.”
He was right. I didn’t.
I wanted to graduate early so we could start a family; I did it.
I wanted to contribute, even minimally, to our life financially; I worked my ass off and accomplished that.
I wanted to be a success at my own business, completely renovate a fixer-upper house so it was inch by inch all mine; I did that too.
I wanted to make a statement that Logan was important and I intended to show him that by making time for him; I absolutely did not fuck around.
The only thing I’d wanted that I didn’t get was to make babies with my man. And it hit me right then that finding out I couldn’t when I knocked myself out to make everything so I could was something I couldn’t cope with.
As huge as that was at the time, and how deep it still burned, I realized, in the end, I hadn’t done half bad.
“Come here, beautiful, give your man some love so you can get to work.”
Voiced tender and sweet, that was an order I would obey. So I set my coffee mug aside and moved into his arms.
I wrapped mine around him, rolled up on my toes, and touched my mouth to his.
When I rolled back, we both kept hold.
“Got the girls this weekend,” he told me.
A sliver of cold fear pierced the warmth in me but I ignored it and asked, “Yeah?”
“You got a problem with them stayin’ here?”
I went back to staring.
When he said no more, like taking back that crazy question, I asked, “Here? With me? And you?”
“Here. With me. And you,” he confirmed.
I moved an inch away, still within his arms, and stated, “Low, that’s too much too soon for both of them.”
I meant that.
I also meant for all of us.
Namely me.
“I start the night on the couch, go to you when we know they’re out. They sleep for as long as they can on the weekends. We’ll be up before them. They won’t notice.”
“Low, that’s too much too soon for both of them,” I repeated, then included, “And it isn’t just about the sleeping arrangements.”
“I live in my RV outside Boz’s house,” he declared.
My chin jerked sideways at this insane news. “You do?”
“Since the split, been lookin’ at houses—seems I looked at hundreds of ’em. Wanna move and do it permanent. So it’s gotta be perfect for me and my girls,” he explained.
Oh man.
I had a feeling I knew what he was saying, that he intended to move in with me.
I had more than a feeling that it was way too soon too.
I wanted it to happen. I wanted forever with Logan.
But we had a lot of catching up to do, so I wasn’t sure about that starting now.
“You... I... ,” I stammered, not certain what to say.
“Now, havin’ you back, I’m not layin’ down a load of cake on a pad only for us to consolidate. And I’m guessin’, the way you are about your house, you’re not gonna wanna leave it.”
“No,” I said hesitantly, because I didn’t.
But it was mine. All mine. Inch by inch.
And it was a woman’s home.
Inch by inch.
And Logan was very much a man.
“Right,” he said. “So it’s big enough for all of us for a while. We’ll need to add on later. Another bedroom. Dining room ’cause can’t have decent Thanksgivings and birthdays sittin’ at a bar in a kitchen.”
My heart started beating fast and not in a good way at the thought of changing my space after I’d gotten it just how I wanted it.
I mean, I wanted Logan more than anything.
But living in a house under renovation sucked. I knew this all too well.
“Girls share a room,” he went on. “But Deb and me promised ’em, when they got to be teenagers, they’d get their own rooms. So we’ll need another one because I figure you’ll wanna have one for guests.”
“I... well, I think we need to discuss this at a time when I don’t have to get to work,” I evaded.