Page 44 of Consuming Logan

“No,” Logan whispered, unable to disguise the disbelief in his voice. His father loved his mom, of that he had no doubt. Maribelle was stubborn, demanding, self-serving, and the fiercest ally he’d ever known.

“There’s a serious power imbalance in their relationship. Mom has to give more than she takes. And Dad, he needs to come clean about the past.”

His brother’s face twisted into an unreadable mask. In a fight, Maribelle Masters served as a powerful ally. She investigated her opponent, always had her details confirmed before a confrontation, and she never attacked without a plan. His father had lived with the woman’s flaws and perfections. What could she have done to force his hand? And Logan was sure his mother had done something. But, what did Darwin mean about cleaning up the past. He frowned. There was something his brother wasn’t telling him. A secret between his mom and dad. Logan’s gut churned. He opened his mouth to pull the thread but was interrupted.

Tyson leaned forward in his armchair, placing his tumbler on the center console. “It’s good to see you up and out of the hospital.”

“How’s the hand?” Maximus asked, his brogue more nuanced compared to the older brother.

Logan gave the ace wrap covering his right hand a casual glance. “Fine. I removed the splint this morning.”

Guilt nagged him. Dr. Pierre hadn’t explicitly told him to keep the limb immobile. The pain had reached a tolerable level and… last night Logan had needed his hand for more pressing needs. Ava’s pleasure would be any future punishment.

“How’s Ava?” Maximus asked.

“She’s freaking amazing. How she keeps smiling through all the crap thrown at her because of me…she’s destined for sainthood.”

“Spoken like the man who loves his woman,” Tyson raised his glass in salute.

Through the second-floor window, Logan overlooked Shell Cove’s historic downtown district. On the corner of Main Street and the Boulevard, Gage and Rourke Alexander’s second restaurant, Drury’s café, served the last of the lunchtime crowd.

“She’s the air in my lungs.” Logan aimed the now empty plastic bottle at the recycle bin. He took the shot, smiling when it hit the rim before sinking into the circular basket.

Tyson nodded. “Nice. You know how to handle a ball?”

Logan smirked. “I’m my father’s firstborn son. He taught me every sport known to modern man before that one,” he pointed at Darwin, “could walk.”

Next to Maximus, Darwin leaned back on the couch, arms folded behind his head. “You talk a lot of trash for a man with a bandaged hand.”

Logan chuffed. “Yeah, well. As soon as I finish physical therapy, I’ll take on all three of you.”

The conversation drifted into a comfortable rhythm of comedic ribs and masculine exaggerations to rival the Guinness Book. Time passed quickly and the stress of mettlesome mothers, changes in life plans, and stork deliveries faded.

The lobby elevator dinged. Two polished panels slid open with a soft swoosh and in walked a third pair of brothers, Lina and Janna’s husbands. When they spotted him, Gideon and Dawson gave each other a conspiratorial wink. Six years ago, when the former Marine, now combat psychiatrist had joined the SCMC staff, he’d told Logan of his five adopted brothers. According to Gideon the bond of brothers was stronger than blood because they had chosen to be a family.

“Just the surgeon I was looking for.” Dawson’s diabolical laugh boomed in the cavernous space.

A screaming Gemma Noelle flailed against her daddy’s chest, her cheeks puffing like a red balloon seconds from bursting. Dawson held Jonah’s hand, while the little one twisted like a top ready to bang into every object in its path.

Logan and Darwin glanced at each other, not believing their eyes. Would this be him in a few months? Logan was almost afraid. Dawson looked like he’d been through a car wash…without the car.

“Man,” Logan laughed. “Where’s Janna?”

“Daddy,” Jonah sniffled. “Will Notso’s kittens be okay?”

Dawson patted his son’s head. “What do daddy Marines do?”

“They protect their families and the country,” Jonah shouted.

Oh, the crazed kitty had given birth. Janna must have stayed home to make the new mommy comfortable. It still didn’t explain why Dawson had both kids.

“That’s right. Me and your mommy will do everything we can to protect Notso and the kittens.”

Dawson glared at Logan. “Thanks to your Sunday dinner my football free time has been usurped by daddy daycare. “Here,” he said, thrusting Gemma Noelle into Logan’s free hand.

“Whoa,” Logan said. A rainbow of food colors covered Dawson’s Polo shirt. “Gideon, help your brother.”

Gideon started backing away. “I’m allergic to digested food particles.”