Chapter Nine—Logan
Bella's going to be upset, time to diffuse the situation.
Logan's question caught me off guard. How did I answer the child? From what I remembered of Bella's file and about her relationship with Alec, Logan was about four, almost five years old. What did kids his age understand about adult relationships? His dark eyebrows furrowed, his eyes narrowing to the point I was positive he couldn't see. Suddenly his face transformed, he giggled in a way only a child could, covering his mouth, his nose crinkling like his mother when she sometimes laughed. "I joking. Grandpa said I need to be mean to mom's friends that are boys."
I couldn't help but wonder how many he'd met already. From what I knew of his mother, Bella was too protective of her son to have him meet just anyone.
I offered him a smile, amused by his words. "Did he really?"
Logan nodded, his eyes widening while his curls moved along with him. "He says I'm the man of the house. I gotta take care of mommy when he's not wift us." He looked quite serious as he said this, not even his lisp undermining his words.
"I see." Unsure of how to proceed since I had limited encounters with children. Less than a handful in the last ten years. "Your mother is busy at the moment but she can call you back when she's finished."
The boy simply shrugged his shoulders, but then sort of pouted. "You talk all serious," he huffed, pursing his lips together. "You a…a," he tapped his chin, scrunching one eye shut as if he was thinking too hard, "oh, a client?"
"No, I'm not a client. I'm a friend of your mother's."
One his eyebrows shot up, reminiscent of Bella once again. I had no idea children had such dexterity of their brows so young. "A booooooy-friend?"
I wasn't ready to answer what I wanted from Bella yet, even to myself, but Logan continued when I hadn't replied.
"My grandpa said if any boyfriends come to the house, I have to call him. I better go do that." He turned away from the computer and started to make his way off the chair.
"Hey, baby!" Bella said from behind me, placing her hand on my shoulder. I looked at her and expected anger, considering I had inadvertently met her son. It was too early for such introductions.
She offered me a wink instead. "Your grandpa already met Edward," she said to her son, giving him a small smile. For a moment, she let her guard down, the tips of her fingers touching the screen as if she could touch her son's face. She appeared ready to climb right inside to get to him.
"What?" Logan looked thoroughly shocked at his mother and me. The question seemed to pull Bella out of her thoughts, but also made her smile broaden. "And he's still alive?" There was confusion and awe in his voice that had me chuckling.
"Yes, I am." I rose from the chair, offering it to Bella.
He scratched his head ready to say something further before I could excuse myself. "Oh, I think grandma is coming."
Bella shook her head, taking the seat I vacated for her. She reached for my hand, squeezing it lightly while keeping her eyes on her son. "You called me all on your own, didn't you?" I turned to leave but Bella didn't seem to want to let go of my hand.
Logan, who was kneeling on the chair, propped himself on an elbow and looked suddenly shy and a bit upset. "I missed you, Mommy."
"Oh, baby, I miss you, too." The tone of her voice was enough for me to know that I needed to give her privacy.
I bent to whisper in Bella's ear. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen."
The moment I turned to leave, I caught Logan's attention again. "Hey, mister, where you going?"
"Logan," Bella lightly scolded. "You don't have to yell."
"Sorry, Mommy."
"It's fine, baby. Just try not to do it again. This is my friend Edward Masen. Edward this is my son Logan Swan."
I bent enough over Bella's shoulder for him to see me more clearly. "Hello, Logan."
"Hi, Edward. Did ya see my room?"
"Not yet," I said, looking at Bella again. She nodded and gave me the green light to talk to her boy. It felt strange to receive her approval. "Do you mind if I take a look?"
"No! That's why I'm asking," he said, shaking his head, giving a look that clearly said I was clueless.
"Mom made me a pirate ship bed, it's so cool! Do you think we can play pirates when I get back from vacation?"
Bella laughed, shooting me a knowing look. "I'm sure Edward would be very good at being a pirate," she said, snickering under her breath. "My name is Edward, I'm a pirate. Argh!" She attempted to mimic my voice, making her son giggle madly.
I pinched her side since it was obviously a jibe about my attempt at blackmailing her. She offered me a brilliant smile, rubbing where I retaliated, and I did, too. Our fingertips grazed the small area, just above her hip.
Logan continued to laugh, using every feature in his face. His brow furrowed, his eyebrows rose at one end, his dimples winked and his eyes were lost behind a wealth of lashes. If Logan were this cute when he was full of laughter, Bella would be beautiful to see when she did the same.
"Mommy you're funny," he said, a little out of breath. "He makes a good pirate! See," Logan said as he pointed at the screen. "He's got the dark stuff on his face, like Jack." He rubbed his cheek, showing us that he was talking about my five o'clock shadow along my jaw.
Bella laughed and looked up at me, patting my cheek, her hand still warm from her shower. I quirked an eyebrow in response though didn't stop her. She took liberties when it came to touching me, and I enjoyed it. Perhaps, too much, then again, I was still thumbing the area where I had pinched her. I waited for her to pull away or stop my hand, but she didn't as her eyes remained on me.
"Mommy," Logan said, inadvertently bursting the bubble. She immediately withdrew, and that, I expected. She'd become too distracted with me when she needed to focus on her child. She didn't try to stop me when I moved away. The disappointment I felt about it was unlike me. I smiled at Logan who continued to point out positive attributes that would make me a perfect pirate.
"I'll start dinner," I murmured and offered Logan a soft good-bye.
Bella said nothing to me in response, but her son objected. "Wait, where you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to cook dinner," I replied. Bella stiffened and pursed her lips as Logan's eyes widened in shock.
"You cook, too! I need to tell grandma!" He looked up, scrunched his eyes shut, and screamed at the top of his lungs. "Mommy's boyfriend cooks! Didn't you say a way to her heart was wift her stomach or something?"
"Oh my God," Bella said, rubbing a hand over her face. "Logan, what did I tell you about yelling?"
The boy stilled in his chair for a second and then looked back at his mother. The apology was clear on his face, but his need to ask questions seemed to take over.
"What do you cook?" he asked me. "Do you cook better than Mommy? How about cookies? Mommy can't bake to save her life!"
"Hey," Bella said, laughing. "You mister, have been talking to your grandmother way too much."
Logan propped himself on his elbow again, smiling cheekily. "Grandpa said it, too. Don't you remember my last birthday cake?" He looked horrified as he turned his gaze to me. "It was scarwy, Edward."
"I'm sure it was," I said, trying not to laugh as Bella stepped on my foot, pressing down enough to have me bite back a hiss. She was touchy and feisty, my earlier disappointment dissipated. "I wish could've seen it."
"Oh you can," Logan said, nodding hard. "There's a picture on the wall that Mommy put up."
Suddenly we could hear a woman's voice in the background. "Logan? Where did you end up, little man?"
"Oh no," Logan whispered as his eyes widened. "She found me." Considering the decibel level he achieved when he screamed for her, she could've picked him up three states away.
"With all the yelling, it's a miracle it took this long," Bella said, smiling. "Can you go grab her so we can talk?"
"Okay, Mommy," he said, turning his eyes back to me again. "That's her way of saying, I better go to bed."
"Sounds like it to me. Good night, Logan."
"Good night, Edward," he said softly, yawning. It was almost nine at night in Virginia, so it wasn't surprising that he was getting tired. Bella squeezed my fingers once more before she turned her full attention to her son.
I stepped into the kitchen, running a hand over my mouth. I still tasted Bella there, on my lips, on my tongue. Before Logan's call, I still was trying to decide on what I wanted from Bella other than sex. I had met her father only hours earlier, now her son. I had indicated to her father that I had no ill intentions with his daughter. If I slept with her and walked away, would that make me a liar?
I loathed dishonesty.
To be safe, it would be best that I walked away before it was too late before we had a chance to explore the explosive chemistry we shared.
I heard Bella's soft voice, finding it as soothing as it was arousing to me. The idea of never seeing her again, I hated the thought. In the past, when I faced such an unknown that left me reeling, I had stepped back and regrouped to take the time to assess and determine what was best for my company and me.
This was personal, as it should be.
It was different from what I experienced before. That alone elicited fear, as nothing before had ever done. It was best to step back and get a hold of myself before I crashed head first by the surge of emotions I had always kept tightly under my control.
I was unable to determine how long I remained immobile, frozen in the middle of her kitchen. Her voice continued to lull me into a stupor that I refused to shake myself from, instead, I wanted to hear more.
I wanted to listen to her whisper in my ear. Hear the soft moans as I brought her to the brink of oblivion. The simmering rage and equal admiration as she tried to reason with me, only to serve to enrich my blood and desire for her even more.
It was such a contradiction of feelings, to want and not to want the same thing, at least in my mind. The rest of me, however, wanted only her. Without a doubt, I could seek out what my body craved with someone else. I knew deep down, it would not be sated and as satisfying, so what was the point.
Despite knowing that, perhaps it would be better to give myself a few days to ensure this was what I wanted with her. However, the second she stepped into the kitchen, her face drawn, and her eyes downcast, avoiding mine, I knew that I wanted to figure everything out with her beside me.
"You're still here. The surprise and uncertainty making her voice sound uncertain. A first.
"You didn't expect me to be?" It made sense she'd think that since she knew so little about me. I wanted her to know more.
She shook her head and finally lifted her face to meet my gaze. "We've only known each other for a while. You've just met my son."
My eyes narrowed for a second. "I'm guessing that I was the first."
She smiled then, not due to happiness but one of those "don't you wish you could read my mind" kind of smirks.
"You sound a little jealous at the thought that you might not be." I was but didn't say a word to confirm or deny it. When I said nothing, she replied, "You are the first." She quickly added, "That I've brought home."
Absurd and possessive as it might be, I didn't like the sound of that. In three long strides, I was in front of her, holding her face in my hands and slanting my mouth of hers. With a groan, I said, "I'm not going anywhere."
It was too late to walk away. I could only move forward, with her. We'd figure out what happened next, together.
