Page 122 of Logan
“Yeah, and?”
“And I was thinkin’.”
“Uh, oh.”
He gives me a lopsided look, rolling his eyes. “Would you move in with us?” I blink in surprise, but before I can answer, he plows on. “But the apartment would be temporary. With the new bar manager startin’ soon I thought he could take theapartment. I wanna look for a house. Somewhere we can build new memories, be a family.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. God damn this man. “Seriously?”
“Seriously as in, you hate the idea?”
I close my eyes, shaking off the laughter as tears spring to my eyes. Jesus, I’ve never been this emotional in my entire life. Ever since everything went down, I’ve somehow become way more in touch with my feelings. My therapist says that’s a good thing, not to keep things bottled up.
“Logan?” I reach over and wrap my free arm around his neck. “Has anyone ever told you you’re the most pessimistic person in the entire world?”
“That’s just dumb,” he replies. “You haven’t met everyone in the entire world.”
I smile, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I’d love to move in with you.”
“You mean that?”
“Yes. I don’t usually commit to things I’m not sure about.”
“So you’re sayin’ you’re sure about me?”
“Didn’t say that, but I have to think of Dozer’s needs.”
He grins against my mouth. “Wise ass.”
“You love it.”
“We should go home and fuck instead of hangin’ out here.”
“Don’t even?—”
A loud tap, tap, tap makes us both jump and Dozer barks, jumping up from my knee.
My eyes widen as I see Logan’s mom banging on his window. Oh, holy fuck.
Logan clears his throat as he presses the window down. “Mom?—”
“Don’t Mom me, young man,” she scolds. “Making out on the curbside, Logan Ernest Dawson? With Mr. and Mrs. Benedict inside.” As if just noticing me she smiles my way, “Hi, honey.”
“Hi, Mrs. D.” I wave.
She glances back at her son, her smile dropping. “Inside, now, before we have the neighbors complaining.”
“We’ll be right there,” I say sweetly.
“And let me take that adorable grandbaby right now,” she goes on, wiggling her fingers at Dozer, who’s now wagging his tail like a mad-man because he loves his grandma.
Logan sighs, handing our fur baby over to her. She kisses his head, telling him he’s the sweetest little boy, then takes off up the drive.
“Jesus Christ,” Logan mutters, his head resting back against his seat.
“I think we better get going before she means business,” I laugh, loving how he, and both his brothers, fall into line when Mama D is in town.
He curls his fingers around mine, bringing my knuckles up to his lips. “What if I wanna break all the rules?”
