Waiting for Always (Beautiful Surrender #5)(14)
Author: Ava Claire

Her frail arms wrapped around my midsection. "It’s going to be okay."

The emergency alerts blared in my head, my arms jutted out awkwardly, unmoving, afraid that if I moved, if I wandered down this road, the only thing left would be tears that I refused to cry. No weakness, no prisoners, no—

Use.

She was holding me tight, not letting me go.

Not just Rose. Not just the foster parent that didn’t send me away. She was the woman that chose to be my mother. The woman who saw past my scowls and fights at school and saw the cry for help. The kid that was just begging for someone to give a damn.

When I turned back to her, she lifted her fingers to my cheeks and smiled. I cleared my throat, standing up tall. "Allergies."

"They say it’s especially terrible this year," she said with a sly grin. She pulled her cardigan close and worked her way towards the living room. "I know enough about all the ugly in the world to know something good when I see it. You’re a good person, Logan. And I saw the way your face lit up when you talked about Melissa." She stopped in front of the mantle with a sigh. "I can still remember you walking through that door, so angry. So sure you didn’t deserve anything good, or to be happy." She looked back at me, tears glittering in her eyes. "You know one of the last things Johnny said? ‘Don’t let Logan believe that it’s okay to put love off. Love is worth more than all the riches in the world.’"

I loosened my tie, loneliness circling my heart. Tightening its hold on me. "I had love. I was the one that threw it away, because I was too stubborn to let go of my anger."

"And have you called her? Tried to make it right?"

She said it so simply. So casually.

"It’s not that easy."

She looked puzzled, dusting her hands off. "I thought technology advanced over the years? Whole phone books in the palm of your hand." She gave me a stern look. "You still have her number? Call her up. Better yet, go to her. Don’t live a life of regret, son. Life’s too short for that nonsense." She moved back into the kitchen like she was on a mission. She pulled a cloudy-looking Tupperware container from her cabinet and went back to the table, putting the cookies inside.

"Cookies for later?"

"Cookies to go." She clicked it shut and held it out to me. "You came to see me for a kick in the rear, so here it goes. You can’t wait for divine intervention. If you want love, if you want Melissa, go get her."

I couldn’t help but laugh until I realized she was being dead serious. "Just like that, eh?"

"Just like that." She beckoned for me to lean down and planted a kiss on my cheek. "Maybe I’ll come see you two in the city sometime."

I wasn’t completely on board with this scenario yet, but my heart was already on a plane, flying to SMF International Airport.

She shepherded me to the door, reminding me to not send a bunch of people to be a nuisance and disrupt her organized chaos.

I gave her another hug, holding tighter this time. "It was great to see you, Mom." The word sprung from my lips and when I realized what I’d said, a sob cut through me.

She reached up and fixed my tie, her lips quivering. When she stepped back, she was beaming. "It’s about time."

Chapter Eight

Melissa

I’d given countless presentations before my colleagues and complete strangers, and I still got butterflies right before a pitch meeting. I threw back my bottle of water, running through the generic fact sheet about Kaleidoscope. We were far from the biggest firm in the Greater Sacramento area, but that gave us the flexibility to treat every client like a VIP. We’d helped clients weather all sorts of PR disasters, from product recalls to CEO gaffes. My team and I usually spent the days leading up to our first meeting with a new client researching and finding the right angle to help them see Kaleidoscope was the perfect fit. This client was a last-minute addition, a local CEO interested in media coaching.

I polished off my water and rose from my chair, smoothing my hair back and running my hands over my skirt.

"Ready to go?" Dad stood in the doorway, smiling from ear to ear.

"We’re going to knock ’em dead," I said brightly.

"With you at the wheel, how could he not fall in love?"

I frowned as I followed him toward the conference room. Since our dinner, Dad had been more approachable, less intense. But he never used pronouns to describe our clients. They were always Dietnem Motors. The Gale Brook Foundation. Roberts Cola. He was always the consummate professional.

I shook it off as the marketing team filed into the room and I followed. I was just nervous. I’d get into the zone once the client sat at the end of the table and we got the ball rolling.

I pulled out a chair in a neutral position and sat down, with paper to jot down notes that had a few talking points scrawled at the top. I scanned the room curiously, picking up on everyone seemingly in a great mood. They all flashed me toothy grins when they met my gaze.

"Weird," I muttered, heat stirring in my cheeks.

"He’s here!"

"Can’t believe he’s actually coming to this building."

"This is like something straight out of a movie."

When my father pulled out a chair beside mine instead of his usual spot at the head of the table, I knew something was up. He covered my hand with his.

"I know the last time I tried to call in reinforcements, it was the wrong choice. But I talked to him." He stroked his chin. "It dawned on me that I never had such a conversation with Jason. That was remedied—this one will be the last one because I informed him if he breaks your heart again, I’ll break his legs."

Oh my God.

The room spun and flipped upright.

It couldn’t be.

I looked over Dad’s shoulder and met the deep green eyes that always seemed to look right into my soul. To know everything about me. To hold all the passion, love, and hope that I thought had gone out of the world the minute I walked away.

"Logan," I whispered. How was it possible that I felt faint and at the same time, I could run laps around the building? I wanted to leap for joy but stayed right where I was, just in case this was a trick. Just in case I was dreaming.

But in my dreams, he didn’t smile. And there it was, his thick delicious lips spreading, and anyone with a pulse let out a collective sigh, completely enthralled by him.

I tracked him with my eyes. Black suit, crisp white shirt beneath, and a slender gray tie. His hair was cropped shorter than I remembered, but the wisps still spilt on his forehead, giving him a playful air. But his eyes were molten and the games we’d play weren’t for children. They involved rope and blindfolds and paddles and moans that shattered me until he drove inside and put me back together again.