Page 12 of Consuming Logan

Logan’s heart thudded in his chest at the same time the blood rushed to his head. “Ava mine,” he stammered, “are we—are you pregnant?”

Ava carried his child. His woman carried his son or daughter. His protective instincts pulled out the Universal Soldier gear. Nothing and no one would hurt Ava or their child.

“I am,” she smiled. “You’re going to be a daddy.”

Soaking up her words like a sun-dried sponge, his lungs expanded, life-changing purpose entering his body. How pathetic was he? He wanted to whisk Ava away. Protect her and the baby. Nothing was after them. So why did he feel like he was running an unchartered race he had to win? He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go tell the world I’m the man and we’re getting hitched.”

Ava cradled his jaw, scrubbing manicured nails through his beard. “Have I told you how cute you are when you’re excited?”

“Cats are cute,” Logan grinned. “My lioness is carrying my cub. That makes me king.” When he slid his hand lower to cup her bottom, Ava reached around and pried his fingers off.

“You utter one syllable about this baby before I tell my parents and it’s no sex for a week.”

“Hey,” he protested, “that’s cruel and excessive punishment.”

Releasing him, she said, “There’s more where that came from, king.” He let out a laugh. “Now let’s go before I have to slap your multi-million-dollar endowed hands again.”

“When we get home, I’m going to strip that catch me-screw me dress off you,” he nipped at her ear, “and make you pay.”

She gave a wiggle of her derriere. “I hope so, daddy.”

The saucy woman actually wanted him to spank her ass. Behind his zipper, Logan’s cock pulsed, eager for the private party he had planned. Down boy. He’d give the party three hours, and then ghost. They strode forward, greeting members of the Shell Cove elite with a wave and a smile. Logan reached for the brass door ring, flexing his biceps to swing the massive hinges open before guiding Ava inside with one hand at the small of her back. Inside the ballroom, LED balloons lined the spiral staircase to the roof. A giant storyboard with the words Happily Ever After Party listed his and Ava’s special dates — the date they met — their first date —that first kiss — the day he popped the big question. The last entry had a golden question mark formed with interlocking wedding bands with a blank line next to the words, I DO. Logan ventured a glance in Ava’s direction. Quiet and still she absorbed every detail. Waiters circled tables depositing salad plates, removing stainless-steel plated entrees of filet mignon with balsamic glaze, braised lamb shanks with parsnips, and wild sea bass with sautéed bacon. His mother had planned a society page worthy affair.

“It’s beautiful, Logan,” she said, her voice as far away as her thoughts. Family was paramount to Ava. Being with him, she witnessed firsthand that all mothers were not nurturing and supportive like Ariss Walters. Honestly, after Ava’s initial encounter with Maribelle he thanked everything holy that she still spoke to him. The pianist hit a note and the refrain of The Way You Look Tonight. Logan glanced down to see Ava smiling. Maybe, Maribelle was trying to make amends. She knew how important this woman was to him. How could his mother create this fairytale night if she didn’t care for Ava? And soon, she’d be Grandma Maribelle.

“It is,” he murmured, his gaze on her. Forcing out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, he disconnected from the widening pit in his gut. Ava looked happy. That’s all that mattered.

Logan spotted Darwin standing with his back propped against the exit door. Six feet of toned muscle, with his blond strands sheared to a military high and tight made his brother look more like hired security than an invited guest. Rebecca Lynn, his wife of eighteen months, stood close by. Tugging Ava’s hand, he led them between makeshift serving lanes offering minimal conversation as they went.

The men clapped each other on the back while the women embraced.

“Ava,” Rebecca Lynn beamed, her blonde hair in a sleek chignon. “You look fabulous.”

Logan grinned. Yes, he had the total package with Ava.

“So, do you. The green makes your eyes sparkle,” Ava said in reply. “Have you seen my folks?”

His sister-in-law and former girlfriend wore a satiny green mermaid cut dress with over-the-shoulder lace and sequins. Darwin had paired his black tuxedo with a complementary bow tie, ribbed cummerbund pairing.

“Your parents and Granny Lou are mingling,” Rebecca Lynn gave her husband a co-conspirator glance. “We all thought it better to scramble and cover the entire room to keep Maribelle from searching for you. She’s busy eavesdropping on everyone’s conversations.”

“Oh my, seriously, thank you,” Ava laughed.

Looking at the adoring glances shared between Rebecca Lyn and his brother, Logan was glad he’d ended his platonic business arrangement with the woman. Again, their allegiances had been encouraged, sanctioned even, by his mother. She wanted a permanent Masters-Holbrook allegiance. Unbeknownst to the family, Darwin had seduced the slightly older Rebecca in high school.

“Late to your own party, brother?” Darwin laughed, his Caribbean blue eyes crinkling at the corners. “And is that a glow on your face.”

Damn, he wanted to tell everybody he was going to be a father. Should he mention the baby? Nope. Ava asked him to hold his tongue, but he wanted to whip that smirk off his face. As the younger sibling, Darwin had inherited the obligatory smart mouth. A concession not afforded the first-born. Not expecting an answer, Darwin gave him a knowing smile.

“Better late than sexually repressed.”

Darwin gave a hearty laugh, thumping Logan on the chest. “See,” he cocked his head, “I wasn’t going there.”

Returning the gesture, Logan grinned at his best ally when it came to Maribelle. “Nothing like the love of a good woman.”

“Agreed. But I’m sure our mother will be underwhelmed with your explanation.”

Logan relaxed. “Nothing new there.”