Page 25 of Consuming Logan

Ava bristled. “Maribelle, our wedding is no longer your business. It’s ours. Now, if everyone would leave, Logan needs his rest.”

Logan stilled his eyes wide in disbelief. Well, believe it. Ava had had enough of people telling her what she was going to do.

Marianne chuckled. “Guess she told you, Belle.” The woman urged the room’s occupants to move towards the door. “Let’s go everybody.”

Ava smiled, happy to know Logan had an aunt who would do battle on Logan’s behalf. Not that Ava wanted to war with any of her future in-laws, but it was nice to know Darwin, and now Marianne supported them. Yeah, learning Maribelle had a half-sister who happened to be melanin-rich gave Ava some new insight into her personal struggles with the Masters’ matriarch. Logan’s mother was jealous. It didn’t escape Ava’s notice that she and Marianne Hollister had similar features. but Ava’s attention was reserved for her immediate family, Logan and the baby.

Maribelle and Robert Lee departed followed by a tight-lipped Darwin. Rebecca Lynn gave Ava a kiss to the cheek before joining her husband on the other side of the door.

Tyson lingered. And Ava tensed wondering if he’d picked this moment to reveal his true identity.

“We’ll talk when you’re up to it, Logan. Just us brothers,” the Irishman said, his accent made heavier with exhaustion. Ava looked at Logan wondering if he noticed how often the man had referred to him as a brother. Ava pitied Tyson’s situation. The man obviously wanted a relationship with Logan. “Take care of each other.”

“Sure thing,” Logan said. “This injury won’t impact my research.”

In truth, Logan was an expert with hand injuries.

Marianne was next. She touched Logan’s injured hand. “It’ll be fine.”

Logan smiled at his aunt. “You sound so sure.”

“I should know,” she winked. “I was the first surgeon in the family, Logan.”

“Truly?” he asked, baffled that his mother kept him from this accomplished career-minded woman. Marianne looked to be in her mid-sixties. Logan imagined the challenges she faced as a woman pursuing a surgical subspecialty. His curiosity piqued at this branch of the family now open to him.

“When you want to get your mother spun up, ask her who gave you your first toy medicine bag?”

And then she was gone.

Logan actually chuckled. “Will do.”

Bishop flipped the cover of his notebook closed. “I’ll be in touch, Logan,”

Logan went to offer his right hand, but the splint limited his movement. “Good deal,” he muttered, dropping his right hand, a furrow between his brows.

To Ava, Bishop said, “We’ll find this guy, but until we do,” he paused, “be careful.”

He departed with steps way too quiet for a big man. Once they were gone, Logan took her into his arms, pulling her in close with his uninjured hand. Ava crawled onto the bed. Safe. They were safe.

“Kicking everyone out. That was a pretty bad ass move,” Logan began.

Propping her head on his shoulder, she tilted her face up to him. “Well, I’m kind of a bad ass now.”

He laughed; the sound hoarse. “True, but talk to me, sweetheart. You’ve been worried. Not just about the attack.”

He yawned, letting his head collapse into the pillows. It was probably the drugs. She wanted to tell him about the baby. Could she wait until he was fully awake? Maybe. He needed to rest instead of fretting over her. She would be fine.

“I like your aunt.” The statement was designed to gauge his thoughts on the newfound discovery.

“Me too. She seems to be a needed addition to the family.” His easy acceptance surprised her. How much Demerol had he received? “My mom has met her match. Now stop stalling. Talk.”

“I don’t understand why this happened to us.” She should tell him. But he needed to focus on healing and leaving the hospital. Was she selfish for wanting the moment he learned of their child to be special? If Logan knew their baby had been in danger he would be up and out of bed ready to defend them. He was that type of man.

He dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Logan was always sure of his success. The man never considered failure. His hand slid to her derriere and squeezed. Glad his interest remained unaffected, she thought with a smile.

“Pack up our stuff, sweetheart. We are going home in the morning.”