“It’s no problem,” I cut in, and we shared an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Go on.”

He shook his head, smiling softly. “I was just going to say that I’ve tried convincing him you were fine, but seeing you himself helps.”

I nodded in agreement, with no other words to say. A long pause stood between us.

“So, she’s really here to stay, then?” I asked, purposely not speaking Natasha’s name. I shouldn’t have even asked, but curiosity got the best of me.

“It appears so.” He looked down at the arm of the couch.

“What does that mean for Oliver? Aren’t you worried she may leave him again?”

The nerves in my system were gone when he looked up at me with wary eyes, and I could see he was torn over her return. I leaned forward as best I could. “She’s his mother, but you’re his daddy,” I whispered. “I know you’ll make the right call for him.”

“She says she misses him, and I know he wants to see her. I just don’t know if…if I can trust her. I can’t let him get hurt.”

“Yeah, I noticed your trust issue with the whole James Bond setup.”

His brows rose, lips curling up. “James Bond? Is this some fantasy of yours I should know about?”

My head fell, cheeks flushed. We needed to get back on topic—quickly.

I looked back up, serious. “All you can do is be there for Oliver if he wants to see her. If you try and keep her away, he’ll blame you. He knows she’s here.”

Logan sighed, his hand running through his hair.

“Of course he does. How could he not, with the way Julia and Jax carry on about it? Obviously, they are not happy with things. They’re not exactly fans of Natasha. My mother seems to be the only person who believes I’d be doing the right thing if I let her see him.”

It was absurd, but for some reason, that hurt. Logan’s mother liked Natasha.

“You can only do what you think is right.”

The conversation seemed to exhaust him, but he didn’t change the subject. Instead, he spoke softly, for my ears only. “Natasha threatened to tell him I kept them apart if I didn’t let her see him. I can’t have my son hating me—not now, not later. He needs to see her. I just hope she’s grown up.”

Oh, she looked pretty grown up, all right. A flash of her double Ds spilling out of that emerald dress left my stomach in knots. I may not have officially met her, but I already wasn’t a fan.

“Didn’t she want you, as well, on New Year’s?”

Why did I ask that? I blamed the striking image of her in my head, ogling him that night. It still wasn’t right to ask. I wasn’t thinking. We weren’t friends. I was out of line, but I couldn’t help myself.

“Sorry, don’t answer that. It’s not my business,” I added quickly, rubbing my suddenly clammy hands together.

His eyes locked with mine, his stare heavy and thick with that familiar tension I only ever experienced from him.

“I don’t want Natasha. There is only woman I will ever want. I’ve told you this.”

My breathing grew more labored the longer he searched my eyes, seeking entrance to my soul. I blinked, shutting him out.

“And the woman here the other morning?” Why was I still talking?

He looked confused, and it only further added to the fury I felt at the mental image of her wrapping him in her arms and kissing his cheek. It was so intimate, and less like the other women I was used to seeing leave his house.

I needed to get up and go find Oliver, but instead I was sucked in by the side of me that still held onto a tiny shred of hope for us. The senseless side.

“You saw me with Katherine?” His brows rose, surprised.

“Yeah, Katherine, you know—gorgeous brunette wearing mile-high pumps with a tweed blazer and skintight jeans. I’m sure you remember her.” I guess I’d gotten a good-enough view of the woman. I hated to admit how much that image of her with him had haunted me.

To my disbelief, his eyes lit up and lips pulled into a broad grin, and suddenly he was laughing. I had half the nerve to get up and stomp straight out.

“Oh, it’s funny? You know what?” I shook my head, infuriated. “Screw you, Logan! I couldn’t care less how many sluts you go through.” I stood up, wanting to enjoy lunch with Oliver then hightail it out of there.

He grabbed my wrist and stood beside me, still grinning like a schoolboy. He had to have seen my anger brewing, because his lips pulled in as he shook his head once, attempting to stifle his chuckle and control his amusement at my expense.

How dare he laugh at me—and only a couple days after spewing all that nonsense about waiting for me.

“Katherine’s never really been my type.”

At least, not his type once he was through with her. “Right, I’m sure.” Sarcasm was heavy in my tone. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. Honestly, I was just surprised to see you gave her the courtesy of walking her to her car.”

Something in him switched, and the light in his eyes dimmed considerably. Was he angry? Did I insult him? A part of me hoped so, since he’d had the audacity to laugh at me.

“She isn’t my type, and never has been. I especially think my older brother would highly disapprove.”

What? I scrunched my face in confusion, but before I could answer, Oliver was bouncing back into the room.

“Come on, aren’t you hungry?” he asked, lifting the dark cloud forming above us.

“We’ll be right there. I was just telling Cassandra about Katherine.” The side of his mouth pulled up and I stiffened. Katherine could not have been some random hookup if she knew Oliver and his brother…and then it hit me.

“Aunt Katie is the best. She makes pancakes that look like Mickey Mouse!”

I swallowed, nodding away my embarrassment. “She’s your brother’s wife,” I grumbled under my breath.

Logan simply raised his brows and watched me shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Why don’t you go get the pictures you colored for Cassandra and meet us in the dining room? We’ll be right there,” Logan said, and Oliver left the room, excited to show me his artwork.

My thoughts of why I made such a scene and acted so childish were interrupted when he wrapped his arms fully around me and held me in place.

“You’re jealous.” His fingers delicately moved the strand of hair that had fallen over my eyes in my rush to leave the room.

“Why would I be? Whatever we had, I’m over it. I came over to have lunch with Oliver, so if you’ll excuse me.” My tone was laced in ice as I yanked myself out of his grip, but I didn’t care. I was humiliated that he was seeing through my defenses.

His intoxicating breath tickled my lips as he held me close. “I dislike Luke.”

Where did that come from?

“What?”

“Luke, Caleb’s kid brother. The guy who’s been hounding you, waiting for the right time to pounce.”

The confusion on my face slipped into a grin matching his previous one, and like him, I began to laugh.

“Pounce? Luke?” I laughed harder, dipping my head back. Luke was so not interested like that.

Logan raked his fingers over the waistband of my jeans. His fingers brushed my skin, cutting off my giggles in an instant.