Page 40 of Living at 40

“Hey,” he whispers, reaching out for my hand.

“Hey.”

“You okay today? You were pretty quiet during dinner.”

Glancing away from him, I blurt my thoughts. “Am I making a mistake?” I turn back and continue with a fountain of questions. “Am I doing the wrong thing? Should I just accept that it’s too late?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Logan says, reaching up for a section of my hair and brushing it behind my ear before sweeping his hand under the weight of it and circling my nape with his warm palm. “Why would you say all this?”

“Is Ben right? Did I leap before looking? I have a habit of doing such a thing. It’s how I ended up taking care of Kevin, then Kenneth, and most recently, Rick. I average five years each. Do I lack commitment?”

“Hey,” he says again, squeezing my nape and ducking his head, forcing me to look at his eyes. “Let’s get out of here.”

“I was going to read,” I tell him, weakly lifting the book.

“Run away with me instead. Lorna’s with the kids in town. Let’s take a walk on the beach.”

I nod though I feel guilty he’s taking me away from here. Or maybe it’s that I’m taking him away from his daughter. What was I thinking falling into bed with a man who already has a child? I thought it would mean a lack of responsibility for him, but he’s one of the most committed guys I know. He knows the difficulties of raising a child and the attachment one should feel toward their own kid.

Logan takes my hand, and I willingly follow him as he leads me down the staircase. Entering the kitchen, we find it empty, and Logan helps himself to beers in the mini fridge in the bar alcove. Clutching two bottles between his fingers, he takes my hand again and leads me down to the beach, where we walk a bit to remove ourselves from the immediate space below the house.

Eventually, Logan stops and folds down to the sand, tugging me down after him.

“Here.” He pops the top of one bottle, handing it over to me, and then unscrews the second bottle for himself.

“To you,” he says, tapping the neck of his beer to mine. He salutes the lowering sun with the cold brew and lifts it for his lips. Following his lead, I take a small pull from mine and then settle the bottle between my crisscrossed legs.

“What if I can’t do it?” I whisper. “What if I’m not a good mother?”

“Autumn, you will be. I saw you today with Oliver and Trevor, and those kids are hellions.”

“But I can return them to Zack.”

“I’ve also seen you with Lorna and Mila. The nail painting. The cartwheels. You were braiding their hair earlier tonight.”

“That’s just girl stuff.” I snort, dismissing my actions as I pick at the label on my beer.

“It’s mom stuff,” he offers. “And before you say that’s the easy part, I know you’ll be great at the hard stuff too.” He pauses to take another drink of his beer. “Look, I don’t really want to get into your past relationships, but obviously, you’re loyal. Ben mentioned how you took care of those guys, doing everything for them, and it leads me to think you’re nurturing.”

“To a fault,” I mutter.

“Why is that a fault? So you like to take care of people? That’s admirable.”

“But Ben would think it’s irresponsible because I let them walk all over me.” I’d heard the unspoken. Ben blames me for enabling the behavior of the men in my past, allowing them to live rent-free, job-free, commitment-free with me.

“It’s different with a child. It’s not enabling. It’s teaching and learning. Lorna’s taught me so many things about people and life. Her attitude and behavior are humbling sometimes. But parenting is a commitment where you expect to give not receive. You’ll receive in so many other ways. In different ways.”

I nod as I know what he means. I’ve seen it with my nephews and niece. It’s all the little things they do with Anna and Ben—the hugs, the apologies, the helpfulness, and the small gifts of gratitude. It’s a trade-off that’s unbalanced but still rightfully weighted as a parent should give more than a child.

“Would you really be able to walk away?” I ask. “Am I asking too much of you? What if I do get pregnant by you?”

I glance over at him as I speak, taking in his casual posture. He sits with his knees raised, arms dangling loosely around them. In profile, he’s magnificent with a strong jaw, firm nose, and high cheekbones. His dark eyes sparkle, reflecting the sunlight dropping in the distant sky.

“I’ll do anything you ask of me,” he says, turning to face me. “I’m not saying it won’t be difficult to know you have my child and want to raise him or her on your own, but I don’t think I’ve mentally gotten to that step in the process. I only want to give you what you ask of me now. Making it happen is the first step.”

“You’re a good man, Logan Anders.” He snorts, and I tip my head to his shoulder. “I didn’t really plan to do it all alone. I’d always hoped one day I’d find the right man who would love me and want to be with me, want to have a family with me. I’m sorry if I’ve asked too much of you.” I hate the pity party I’m having for myself. He turns and presses his lips to my head.

“You haven’t asked of me anything I didn’t want to do for you.”