Logan gently pulled them away. “She probably shouldn’t do that.” He wrinkled his nose. “You know, germs and all.”

I chewed on my lip to stop from laughing. There were two ways to look at it, after all, and I didn’t want to tell him but I was certain worse things had been in her hands.

He pointed his finger at me. “Don’t say it,” he said, grinning.

With a shrug, I set my coffee down and walked into the bathroom to grab the diaper bag.

“Does Clementine eat regular food?” he asked. “I ordered eggs, pancakes, and toast.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “Yes, she does. Let me change her and we’ll be right out.”

He nodded. “There’s a whole pot of hot coffee, too.”

I smiled at him. He smiled back. When I turned around with Clementine on my hip, he had just reached the door.

His smile widened when we appeared back in the bedroom and he gave a slight wave before walking out. It might have been for Clementine, but I returned it.

I don’t know why.

He slid his tongue around his lips in a heated response.

And my heart skipped a beat.

Logan disappeared into the next room and I set the baby down, all the while my pulse aflutter. Before I changed her, I took a few deep breaths and then sipped on my coffee to try to calm it down.

What was this thing between us?

I wasn’t about to overanalyze it, but I knew we needed to eventually talk about it. Something was causing him to war with his emotions, and he should know that he didn’t have to worry about me.

I wasn’t looking to attach myself to him.

I wasn’t looking to attach myself to anyone.

Once I’d changed Clementine, I decided to at least brush my teeth, but then I looked at myself and thought a comb would be a good idea too.

The mirror had a crack down the center and I wondered what had happened, but not for long as Clementine led the way into the living room. I had her bag, which contained her sippy cup, the fail-safe Cheerios, and her toys, so she was all set.

Logan was sitting on the couch with what I could only call “old school” Vans up on the table, reading something on his phone. A cart of overflowing food was next to him, along with one of the small cartons of milk he had ordered last night.

He peered up at me.

With his eyes on me, I poured the milk into the cup and made Clementine a plate. I didn’t have a high chair, so I set everything on the coffee table and let her pick at her food while she played. I knew it wasn’t ideal, but it worked and it made her happy.

Once she was settled, I poured myself a hot cup of coffee and added some cream, then took a piece of toast and went to sit on the chair.

Logan patted the seat next to him. “Sit here.”

I shrugged casually, surprised but not. Hot and cold seemed to be the beat in which he breathed. “Okay.”

After I sat, he pulled his feet from the table and leaned forward, turning his head to see me. “So here’s the thing, I’m not really good at anything when it comes to women except fucking.”

I practically spit my coffee out. “That was . . . honest.”

His eyes caught mine and trapped me. Hazel irises that looked more green than brown today had so much more to say than what he had just said.

There was something in them, something that made him the way he was.

I wasn’t one to judge.

The napkin was close and I wiped my mouth. “Logan, I’m attracted to you, and I think I can safely say you’re attracted to me.”

I heard the smile in his voice. “That’s an accurate assumption.”

My words came out very matter-of-factly. “We fucked. If we fuck again, I wouldn’t mind it and if we don’t, that’s life.”

Logan’s gaze darted toward Clementine. “Should we be saying fuck?” He’d lowered his voice to a whisper.

I looked at her happily busying herself transferring the pancake squares I’d put on her plate to the table and then whispered, “Probably not.”

He leaned close to me. “You didn’t let me finish.”

Was he dismissing what I’d just said?

“There’s more to it than that,” he continued.

I put my finger on his lips. “There always is. Thank you for comforting me last night. I’m sorry I lost it on you. There’s just so much going on right now, I’m having a hard time keeping my emotions in check.”

He opened his mouth and licked my finger. “You haven’t mentioned the shower.”

Heat crept up my cheeks from his words.

I was really getting tired of my schoolgirl reaction.

Logan glanced over at Clementine, who was now sitting on the floor with her toys, not paying any attention to us, and crashed his lips to mine. The kiss was short this time but it was rough, sensual, and took my breath away.

I gasped, as that strange feeling coursed its way through me.

“In case you needed reminding,” he added.

I took a few deep breaths and cursed the desire that was running through my veins. No, I certainly didn’t need reminding. I needed more. And now was so not the time to get all hot and bothered. The question was—would there be another? I looked at him. “Has anyone ever told you, Logan McPherson, you’re a contradiction of emotions?”

His expression fell. “More than once.”

Confused by not only my own emotions, but also his, I nodded. “Well, at least we’re on the same page,” I said, and then I stood up. “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

His eyes darted to mine and the heat that I saw in them was almost volcanic. “Yeah, sure,” he managed to say through a voice full of gravel.

His mind was right where mine was—somewhere it couldn’t be right now.

With one hand on my back, I bent to scoop up Clementine.

“You can leave her here. She seems perfectly content playing in between bites of food.”

I looked at him. “You sure?”

“We’ll be fine.” He looked up at me. “And there’s some Advil in my bag on the bathroom vanity if you need one.”

I headed for the bedroom. “Okay. I’ll be quick.”

“Hey,” he called.

I glanced over my shoulder.

“It will happen again.”

For a moment, I was confused.

But then what he meant clicked at the same time he mouthed, “The fucking.”

Shivers ran up my spine as arousal flooded me even more. If the words were meant to be a promise, I found myself looking forward to it. This man was complex and yet I felt I understood him. I didn’t know what drove him, but I knew the multitude of emotions behind his reactions were complicated for a reason. Defense mechanisms of some sort was my guess. I think I got him because he was a lot like me.

As soon as I entered the bathroom, memories from last night, his hands on me, his cock inside me, the way he moved, were everywhere. Once the water was hot and steamy, I stepped in and palmed the bar of soap I knew he had rubbed over his skin. I did it until it lathered and then I smoothed it all over me.

It was odd.

I was certain that we would fuck again, too, but everything else in my life held a chilling uncertainty. The words I had spoken to him were true, though. I wanted to be with him again, but that was all there was to it. I was damaged goods. My father so much as told me that the first time he saw me in the hospital after the surgeries. He had said, “I told you not to do this, Gabrielle. No man will want you now.” I think he might have even had a tear in his eye. It was the only one I ever saw him shed, although I did hear him crying many nights after my mother’s death.

In his own way, he truly believed what he had told me to be true. At the time, I hadn’t believed him, but years later his words rang true with Charlie.

The water cascaded over me and I turned my face into the spray. Once I rinsed all the soap away, I quickly toweled dry and dressed in the running clothes I had thrown in my bag yesterday when I thought I’d be staying at Michael’s. My plan was to get up early and run in the park, but that was before I knew I’d have Clementine with me.