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When You're Ready

When You’re Ready (Ready #1)(40)
Author: J.L. Berg

I awoke again, this time with the sun shining through the windows, the smell of bacon and the sound of laughter drifting up from the stairs. I could listen to that sound for the rest of my life and never grow tired of it. Quickly rising to change back into my clothes from the day before, I rushed downstairs and found a pajama clad Maddie, wooden spoon in hand, bouncing up and down to…is that Usher? Clare was at the stove flipping pancakes and shaking her hips, which made Maddie burst into fits of laughter.

I leaned my long frame against the side of the fridge waiting, wondering when they would notice the intruder, hoping I could catch Clare off guard.

Clare danced over to one of the kitchen cabinet and retrieved a plate. Still dancing, she turned, gliding over to me, completely unsurprised by my presence.

“Good morning,” she said smugly before placing a chaste kiss on my lips.

“How?” I tried asking.

“Mom.” She shrugged as if it was enough of an explanation. She laughed, realizing I still looked confused and elaborated. “I have eyes in the back of my head. I see everything,” she said, making it sound like it was one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

“It’s true,” Maddie confirmed.

I chuckled and began helping Clare dish up breakfast. I had never done this before. Had a family meal. It was the most normal thing I’d ever done.

Taking a moment from her cooking duties, Clare pulled me away from the prying ears of Maddie “Thank you. For last night. For yesterday, for everything,” she stumbled out the words, obviously trying to find the right ones.

“You don’t need to thank me, Clare. There is nowhere else I would rather have been.”

I meant it. These two had managed to bring more joy to my life in the last month than I had in the entire thirty-two years of my life. Seeing both of them yesterday lost, grieving and hurt…it will never happen again. They had a new protector, and it was me. I would keep them safe. No matter what.

Chapter Eleven

~Clare~

“Just breathe,” I told myself for the hundredth time as I stood on Logan’s front porch staring at the brass knocker that adorned his door. While his words regarding the next time we were alone may have totally turned me on at the time, I was now a complete and total disaster. It had been a week since he slept in my bed and held me while I told him teary-eyed memories of Ethan. I don’t know how he knew, but I needed that. I needed him to know Ethan, at least through my eyes. I didn’t think I would ever find someone to care for after Ethan died, and now that I had, I didn’t want Ethan’s memory to fade. I knew I couldn’t be in a relationship with two men, but I also couldn’t forget the man who taught me to love in the first place. After all, he gave me Maddie, the ultimate gift.

When he met me at the cemetery, held me in his arms as I sobbed and let me grieve the man I had loved and lost, I knew. I may have already been there, or on my way, but seeing him so selflessly giving himself to me in my grief. That made it real. When I awoke the next morning, and found Maddie cuddled between us, his arm wrapped around her, in a protective embrace, I knew I wanted this man to be my future.

The front door I had been staring at opened, startling me.

“You gonna stand out here all day?” Logan asked, leaning against the door frame as he casually threw a kitchen towel over his shoulder.

“Ah, no. Sorry. Scatterbrained.”

“You mean nervous?” he said, motioning to the overnight bag that was slung over my shoulder.

Blushing, I nodded. The overnight bag had been a huge cause of contention between Leah and me. She told me to pack it. I told her it was being presumptuous.

“Presumptuous, Clare?” she said “He invited you over for dinner. After telling you the next time you were alone, he was going to ravage you senseless. I think you’re being a little dense. Pack a bag so you don’t have to brush your teeth with your index finger.”

I gave in and did as I was told. But having never packed an overnight bag, I had no idea what to bring. When I dated Ethan, we were in college and in the same dorm. If I spent the night in his room, I just ran back to my own in the morning for a quick shower, and vice versa. I didn’t know what went in a “spending the night at my boyfriend’s house” bag. Did I pack pajamas? Or was that prudish? Did I bring shampoo, or should I just use his? I settled for the minimum. A change of clothes, a sexy nightie, a bit of makeup and a toothbrush.

“No need for nervousness, Clare. You hold all the cards tonight,” Logan winked as his eyes traveled the length of my body, making me instantly flush.

“Did I mention you look amazing? Downright f**king beautiful,” he declared.

And every bit of nervousness I had evaporated as his pale blue eyes meet mine.

He could have me. Here. Now. Any way he wanted.

“Dinner, Clare. We have to eat first,” he breathed in my ear.

“Right. Food,” I said, blushing.

Chuckling, he led me in through the front door and I took a look around. I had only been here briefly to drop things off or to pick him up, so I had never actually been able to take a leisurely stroll through his house. You would expect a young bachelor like Logan to be somewhere downtown in a loft apartment, full of steel and high end furniture. Instead, Logan’s home was from the turn of the century and tucked away in an older neighborhood outside of Richmond, not too far from my house. I ran my hand over the hand carved banister that probably dated back to the nineteenth century as we made our way to the fully remodeled kitchen.

“Logan, your house is stunning. It’s definitely not what I would have expected when I first met you,” I admitted.

And now?” he questioned, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of wine. He was dressed casually tonight, jeans, a black t-shirt that showed off his tight stomach and arms, no shoes. It was sexy.

“I can see it. It suits you.” And it did. I could see his trademark style everywhere. From the acoustic guitars that lined the living room to the global artwork and photography of places he’d visited that decorated the walls. He had created a home, and he probably didn’t even realize it. He didn’t spend much time here, but somehow he had created a space for a family. It’s like he was waiting for it to be filled, hoping the empty space in his heart will one day be filled as well.

“You’re cooking for me?” I asked as he moved to the stove and began stirring something in a pot.

“I did ask you over for dinner. Did you think we were ordering pizza?”

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