When You’re Ready (Ready #1)(30)
Author: J.L. Berg

For a split second, I worried that Logan might hear me, but the new, bolder Clare took over, and she didn’t care. I sunk my fingers in further, moving them in and out, rubbing my clit at the same time. My stomach muscles tightened, and I felt a familiar flutter begin to bloom deep in my pelvis. My fingers moved more quickly in and out as my mind replaced my fingers with Logan’s hard lean body.

“Oh God,” I moaned out loud.

Just when I thought I might pass out, I came, seeing stars as I called out my release. My knees finally gave way, and I sunk to the bottom of the shower in a mindless puddle.

Somehow, maybe years later, I managed to eventually stand and finish my shower. I couldn’t imagine what I just cost Ms. Thompson in water.

Completely sated, I finished my nightly routine, or what I could considering the lack of toiletries. I slipped into the borrowed night shirt and climbed into bed, utterly relaxed.

I was dreaming when I abruptly awoke, startled by a noise in my room. I kept still, listening intently. Suddenly, the floor creaked as if someone was walking toward me and I screamed. I flipped on the light next to me and found myself in an empty room.

“What the hell?” I swore.

I jumped again when there was a loud knock on my door.

“Clare, are you okay?” Logan asked, before barging in completely, concern clearly showing on his face.

He obviously left his room quickly when he heard me scream because he was wearing a pair of boxers. Only. And holy shit, the view was nice. My eyes roamed over his broad shoulders and chiseled chest. He had those sexy hip bones I loved on a guy that created a perfect “V” framing his tightly packed abs.

“Clare, are you all right?” he asked again.

Mmmm…Right. He said something.

“Oh, yes. Sorry, I heard a noise. It sounded like someone was in here. It freaked me out. Guess the ghost story got to me a little more than I thought,” I answered quickly.

“Oh, good. You worried me, I− what the hell are you wearing?” he questioned, noticing my night shirt for the first time.

“Oh!” Completely embarrassed now, I answer, “Ms. Thompson lent it to me so I wouldn’t have to sleep in my dress. Do you like it?”

The night shirt in question reached down to my knees and nearly swallowed my size four frame. It was periwinkle purple and had the words “#1 Grandma!” written in bright yellow script.

“It’s hideous,” he laughed.

“Yes, I know. What you have on is much, much better,” I added, continuing my leisurely journey up and down his body.

Taking a cocky step forward, he faltered before stopping himself altogether.

“I should go,” he said, keeping his feet glued to the floor, not taking a single step toward the door.

“Stay with me,” I pleaded.

I could see an internal war brewing in his brain.

“Just hold me. I don’t want to sleep in this room alone. If I hear another creak, I’m heading for the car,” I stated. And it was the truth. I loved old houses but I think Ms. Thompson might have ruined this one for me. Who knew I was scared of ghosts?

“Okay,” he agreed as he joined me under the blankets. His skin brushed mine, so warm and comforting. He wrapped his arms around me and I curled up onto his chest, throwing my leg over his, feeling cherished and secure. He smelled like the soap from the bathroom, clean and safe.

His hand absently ran up and down my back, causing me to shiver.

“What’s your father like?” I asked.

He hadn’t mentioned his father much. I knew they didn’t get along.

“The exact opposite of yours I suppose,” he mumbled, still stroking my back.

“Was there ever a time you got along? Did something happen?”

“My father isn’t like most fathers. He’s cold and calculating. When I was young, he set expectations and goals for me. I had a track and a plan. Private school, Ivy League and then some pre-approved career. Lucky for me, I loved medicine, which was a relief. I knew I’d rather do anything in the world than work for my father. As long as I followed the plan, I received his approval. Not praise. Just approval,” he explained, his words as emotionless as the man he was describing.

“When I married Melanie, she met his approval. She was from an approved family, had wealth of her own. When the divorce became public, my father basically disowned me. I haven’t spoken to him since. My father is all about image. And I tarnished that.”

He paused, as he often does in the middle of a memory, as if he was trying to find the words to express it properly.

“I moved down here to disappear. I realized I’d been living my entire life according to his predetermined plans, and I was done. With all of it. I wanted to find my own path, separate from my father’s expectations.”

“And have you?” I asked.

“What?”

“Found your own path?” I whispered.

“I’m starting to.”

Chapter Nine

~Clare~

The next three weeks passed in a blur. When Logan and I returned from the Bed and Breakfast, we returned as a couple. Waking up together, wrapped in each other’s arms, we couldn’t go back any other way. There was no nervous pacing around the phone wondering if he was going to call and ask for a second date because everything between us fell naturally in place. Logan spent every free moment away from the hospital with Maddie and me. He would join us for a movie during the day when he had to work a night shift. He’d take me out for dinner when he had a night off. He fit into our lives seamlessly, like he was supposed to be there. A missing piece.

There were still nights when I wandered through the halls staring at memories scattered all over the walls reminding me of the life I had once shared with Ethan. The man I thought I had an eternity with. My heart still ached for him and I missed him every day, but Logan helped me heal and I felt my wounds closing tighter the longer he was around.

I was falling for him, and falling fast, and I wasn’t the only one. Maddie thought Logan hung the moon and loved spending every waking moment with him. There were times when I would question myself for allowing Maddie to give her heart to another so easily, knowing she could get hurt, but I was learning to let my instincts guide me and everything inside me was screaming that this was right. So I let her fall right along with me and took a leap of faith that we wouldn’t get hurt in the process.

“Logan, are you and Mommy having a play date tonight?” Maddie asked as the three of us sat around the fifties inspired diner sharing an ice cream sundae on a sunny May afternoon. This was one of Maddie’s favorite spots to come during warm afternoons. The waiters wore white uniforms and knew her by name. She loved to fiddle with the miniature juke boxes, making me read every song title and artist.