Page 79 of Consuming Logan

Ava met his anger with her own righteous fire. “I get that you’re angry, scared, and feeling sorry for yourself. At this point, I don’t really care which. But there is nothing ill-timed about my babies.”

Those warning bells, the one’s she’d ignored with Marcus blared to life. She couldn’t repeat the same mistake. This time had to be different. She’d matured, knew better, made the right choice in a man. Ava had followed her heart and her instinct. Logan couldn’t have fooled her like Marcus had. Yet, the longer he talked the more she felt the familiar sting of a man using her heart as a punching bag.

“My hand is better. You need to make some decisions.” He raised his right hand to his ear as if he hadn’t heard her correctly “Your first job is to us.”

He meant to him. What he wanted for them. It had always been about his plan. Not their plan. Logan wanted the perfect life of his adolescence.

“Grow up, Logan. It hurts me to seeing you unhappy; to see the life you want being threatened. But, we’re not children anymore. Real life happened. It’s happening to both of us. Everything isn’t just about you and your feelings. I’ve been by your side. I’m still standing with you.”

Her lip scar started to pulse. The impact of that first blow making contact, the electricity of her nerve endings firing with pain, and the salty taste of blood filling her mouth. If his end game was making her hurt, he had won the game.

“Babies and brothers.” He gave a humorless chuckle, gripping his head like it hurt. Ava’s heart crumbled. “I suppose this is why those wedding vows add for better or worse.”

Knowing her man was self-centered was infinitely more tolerable, than witnessing it. In the end, she couldn’t be sure if emotion or hormones fueled her response. Like Logan, the results and winning was what mattered. She had herself and two babies to protect. And where she had failed herself by giving love to the wrong man, she would never fail her children. Ava did what Logan seemed incapable of doing. She let go of her illusions.

“You win,” she yelled. “The wedding is off. That is my contribution to making your life better. Get back to your plan,” she spat, looking him in the eye.

Ava’s chest ached with every word. A beat passed while she struggled to suck in oxygen. She’d actually cancelled her wedding. If she expected Logan to plead with her, it didn’t happen. He actually smiled, kicked off his boots, and unbuttoned his shirt. Grabbing a nearby throw pillow, he perched it on the sofa arm, and laid his head down.

“Good,” he said. A note of hopefulness filled his voice. Ava fought launching her foot in his gut. She’d probably twist her ankle “We can file everything at the courthouse, have a small reception and be done with it.”

The perfect guy and the fairytale wedding were stories best left to the romance novelists. If she lost the man she loved because she refused to follow him into the darkness of his soul, she’d land on her feet. She would not hate because he hated. She might bend in the bedroom, but she would stand in a battle. Her children would need their mother, not a hollow shell of a woman. She could be courageous for them. In an odd sense, Logan had given her that as a parting gift. The rest of what he offered, she would leave behind.

“I am done,” Ava said a second before her stomach rebelled. She closed her eyes, swallowing back bile, devastated that the man she loved considered his winning plan more important than her love and commitment.

Logan didn’t see the tears streaming down her face. He probably didn’t care. Neither did she. Not anymore.

Chapter 29

Cracking an eyelid, Logan grimaced at the bright light. “Ava mine.” He called not expecting a reply. Her final dress fitting with Lucy was scheduled for eight. “Alexa, what time is it?”

Logan rolled his neck, massaging the cramp from his muscles. He still wore his black button down, wrinkled from sleep, and his jeans. Why the hell had Ava left him on the couch?

“It’s eleven o’ three am,” came the automated feminine reply.

He heard the rush of cars outside. The neighborhood was alive with activity, but he ached worse than the living dead. The stale taste of bourbon coated Logan’s tongue and he groaned in regret. His skull rang in a musical discord of drums, horns, and cymbals. How much had he drunk?

“Granny Lou?” Making his way into the kitchen, Logan frowned at the stillness of the house. He was sure Granny Lou had agreed to stop by and help him stitch the finishing touches on Ava’s wedding gift. Expecting to find a pot of coffee waiting for him, he froze when he spotted Ava’s personal cell phone. The military had provided her with an I-everything for official business, but she always carried both devices.

He brewed a single French roast K-cup taking a sip. The warm liquid normally soothing, soured his stomach. He deposited the full cup in the sink, bewildered by a plaguing sensation. A wave of panic washed through Logan. He sensed more than saw a disturbance within the quiet. He surveyed the countertop looking for something, anything out of place. That’s when he saw it. The baby bottle warmer Ava had been so excited to have on display was gone. His heart began to race.

“No.” Logan sprinted across the floor. Reaching the bedroom, he threw open the door. Ava’s perfume bottles sat on the dresser, undisturbed. He breathed a sigh of relief. When she’d left him once before, she’d taken clothes, shoes, the very air out of the house. He chuckled, trying to ignore the shaky undertone in his voice. But that didn’t explain where Granny Lou was? Padding on bare feet back into the living room, Logan lifted newspapers, peer journals, and bridal magazines until he found his phone. Even though nothing seemed out of place, an eerie feeling still rode him. He quickly dialed Ava’s cell phone only to get the voicemail.

“It’s me. Sorry if I said anything crazy last night, sweetheart,” he said, straightening his shoulders. She couldn’t see him, but he wanted her to hear how damn sorry he was for shifting his anger and disappointment to her. Oh man, he’d made false comparisons, told her about Brooke and the baby. He and Brooke would have never worked. They both took from each other, neither willing to be vulnerable enough for true love to flourish. Had he projected sincere regret at the awful things he’d said? “Give me a call.”

She probably had details to finalize. He’d give it an hour and call again. Decision made; Logan formulated a plan. Today he would do something just for the two of them before their guests started to arrive later this evening. Maybe a surprise foot massage followed by a bubble bath. He grinned already working his plans in his head.

Replaying everything that he said the previous night Logan realized he needed to get a better control of his anger and his drinking. Ava shouldn’t have to pay the price for his dark mood.

He dialed another number. The phone picked up at the Walters family house. Logan raised a brow in question when the person on the other end of the line stayed quiet.

“Hello?”

“Logan, you shouldn’t have called.” It was Granny Lou and she sounded like she’d been crying. Blood began to roar in his ears. “You sound upset. What’s going on over there?”

“What happened last night between you and Ava?”

“Nothing.” What did she think he’d done? “I called because I want to run out and grab some fresh roses for Ava. Save the final stitches for me. I want to do them myself.”