Page 11 of Consuming Logan

Ava’s eyes shot to Logan. “You didn’t tell me you had another interview with Kylie Rivers.” Accusation and anxiety coated her words. And her eyes, yeah—they said she was not pleased to discover his small omission. He could salvage this. Especially with so many onlookers.

With a quick kiss to the lips, he whispered for her ears only, “Come on, sweetheart. Show the camera how much you absolutely adore me.”

Ava burst into laughter. The desired effect accomplished, Logan pulled her into his arms. “Monique, Tyson, Susan, join us.” As each of them stepped in creating a semi-circle on either side of him and Ava, Logan said to the reporter. “Take your picture.”

Afterwards, hugs and congratulations were offered in ample supply. Kylie picked that moment to strike.

“Ava,” she smiled, her tone congenial, “just one question for you to wrap up Logan’s interview.”

“What is it,” Ava replied, but Logan heard the bite of irritation in her voice.

“One, Kylie,” he reminded.

Kylie gave a tilt to her head, as if surfing through a list of headline-grabbing items.

“Any plans to start a family?”

Ava stiffened beside him and Logan sprang into action. “That would be no,” Logan chuckled. “P is for planning, not pregnancy.”

Ava tightened her fingers around his, clamping them as if she were unsteady. He hadn’t forgotten that something bothered his woman, and she’d elected to keep silent on the details.

Chapter 4

“Hurry,” Ava muttered, her four-inch heels tapping a stenographer’s cadence on the polished marble. A favorite of the wealthy and powerful, the Tower Club’s custom designed skyscraper with its palatial floor-to-ceiling windows sat along north Florida’s Inter-coastal waterway. The gleaming lighthouse of smoked glass, with its steep membership dues crashed the hopes of the financially insecure while guiding the social elites safely through its ornate brass doors. Logan had simply called it a second playground throughout his childhood. His parents frequented the events hosted here. He and his younger brother learning to master, as it were, the allegiances forged in influence and status. Ava detested the place.

“Already bossing me around,” Logan teased.

She glanced over her shoulder; her mouth turned up at the corners. “If need be.”

Yes, they were late to the party, but to his credit, Ava sported a satisfied glow courtesy of a celebratory ride on the hood of the car. Man, he’d loved having a garage. After the impromptu 365 DNI sex scene on the Lexus, they’d ran upstairs, laughing, sweaty, and once again on even footing. Their showers happened fast. The wardrobe changes even faster. He wondered who or what had upset her earlier in the day, but her mood had improved. They still needed to have that talk. But he pushed his questions about Ava’s unexpected visit aside… for now.

Her steps slowed as they approached the archway outside the Palm Ballroom. “I can’t believe I let you talk me into ‘that’ an hour before our own party.”

“Don’t remember much talking,” he chuckled, lengthening his stride to match her pace. And if he had his way tonight, there’d be even less. Ava’s one-shouldered white column dress hugged her curves, the silhouette filled his imagination with wicked intent. Her figure had always appealed to him, but the fuller breasts and shapely contours had him salivating. She pivoted in his direction, the sweep of her dress fanned out giving him a clear view of toned, silky leg through the high slit.

“Can you at least pretend to be contrite?”

Pausing for a beat to drink in his woman, he reached for her hand and pulled her into his arms. Their bodies migrated together, a magnetic pull sealing them from chest to hip. Logan looked down into her upturned face.

“Slipping me the tongue in front of everybody, sweetheart,” he groaned low in her ear, “is a dog whistle for I want some ofthat.”

“Logan,” Ava huffed, “your mother will lock us out. Well,” she said reaching up to adjust his black bow tie before smoothing her palms over his lapels, “she’d let you in.”

History dictated he not broach the subject now. But allowing Ava to breeze past the real reason she felt the need to rush to their announcement party would open the door for her to minimize it later.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, tightening his arm around her waist, “Relax. Doctor’s orders.”

Three slow deep inhales later Ava’s shoulders dropped away from her ears.

“I know—it’s just—,”

Bending his knees, Logan brought them face-to-face.

“The only person who matters to me is you.” He tucked a loose curl behind her ear. “I want you for my wife so damn bad.”

But that was only half of Logan’s feelings. He needed to make Ava his. Maybe then the pit that threatened to snatch away his happiness would cease to exist.

Pressing her forehead to his, “I hope you feel,” she breathed, “the same about our baby.”