June 1999

Through the door of his sister's bedroom streamed the sound of some whiney pop chick singing about feeding our souls or some stupid shit like that. He knocked impatiently, annoyed that he had been sent up to retrieve her, and annoyed that she was late to begin with. He wanted this stupid, obligatory family dinner over with. They'd both just arrived home for the summer—him from Rivers and her from her first year at Yale. And so, of course, despite the fact that their parents hadn't picked up the phone to call them once since Easter, they needed to spend the evening pretending to be a family that cared about one another. Just a couple more hours until he could get out of there and meet up with Colin to head to Jenny Thompson's start of summer bash. But the longer Honor took to get down there, the longer it would be until it was over.

She didn't answer and he knocked again. What was up with her, she knew dinner was at 7. And she knew how their mother got when they were late. She couldn't possibly have lost track of time.

"Come on, Hon," he called out. "Believe me, if I could lock myself in my room and avoid them, I would too. But we get this over with and they'll probably forget we exist until Labor Day." He waited another minute and there was still no answer. A strange knot started to form in the pit of his stomach. It was probably nothing. He was sure she was fine. "Look, if I don't get at least some acknowledgement that you're on your way out here in the next two minutes, I'm coming in." He glanced down at his watch to time it. The last thing he needed was to walk in too soon and see any part of her a brother should never have to see.

The full two minutes passed without a word or sound from his sister. The song had changed to one he recognized as Foolish Games by Jewel. "Okay, that's it. I'm coming in on the count of three. One…Two…" he paused and listened for a reply, again hearing nothing but Jewel's voice. "Three." He turned the nob and opened the door slowly. The bed was unmade, clothes strewn all over the place, her suitcases from college only half unpacked. His sister was nowhere in sight. He felt himself relax. She wasn't there. She'd probably snuck out to see her friends, or some guy. Sure, his parents were going to be pissed, but hopefully that meant he wouldn't have to sit through this stupid dinner with them and he could go meet up with Colin now and pre-game before the party.

He was just about to turn around and head back to the sitting room to inform his parents of the news of Honor's truancy, when a sound coming from the en suite bathroom caught his attention. The door was open a crack and fluorescent light from inside streamed out. He took a couple steps closer, passing the stereo and turning it down on the way. He listened again and heard an almost inhuman groan. The knot in his stomach was back. "Honor?"

He was right by the door now and he knocked gently, trying not to let the force swing it open. "Go away," his sister's voice whimpered painfully.

"Hon?" he said again his voice panicked now. He pushed open the bathroom door to see her lying on the floor in the fetal position, clutching at her stomach. Blood was everywhere, staining the purple velour sweats she wore. "Fuck!"

He got down on his knees next to her and pushed the long blonde hair out of her face. It was drenched in sweat and her skin was hot and clammy. "Are you okay." She just moaned in response. "Crap. I'm gonna go get some help." He started to stand up but she grabbed for his hand, clenching his wrist with a strength he couldn't believe she had.

"No."

"Honor, you need help. You need medical attention."

"They can't know. No one can know."

"Okay, but…"

"No. I don't…" she stopped speaking as her face contorted in agony, her body folding in on itself even more than it already was. The episode seemed to last about thirty seconds or so before her body unclenched.

"We need to get you to the hospital."

"Logan…"

"Look, they won't know. Just…" he looked around helplessly, trying to figure out what to do to throw his parents off and get them to call off dinner. Of course, the answer was obvious. "Give me a few minutes and I'll go take care of it. Then we can get you out of here without anyone seeing."

He saw her muscles relax and she nodded in relief.

"Okay, I'll be right back."

He stood up and made his way out of the bathroom, pausing in the bedroom to collect himself. He'd been hoping to put this news off for a bit longer so he could enjoy some of his summer before having to incur the consequences, but well, he was going to have to deal with the shitstorm eventually, and it seemed like there was no better time than the present. At least he could put his screw-up to benevolent use. With one final deep breath he made his way back out into the hallway and towards the stairs, descending to his own funeral…one of his own making.

"Logan, dear," the sickly-sweet voice of his mother cooed. "I thought you were getting Honor. What is taking that girl so long?"

He ignored the question. "Actually, while you're both here, there's something I need to tell you."

"What'd you break, lose, or screw up this time?" Mitchum grumbled with a sigh. Logan would be offended if his father weren't right about him…and if he didn't have bigger things to worry about at the moment.

"Dean Eldon's Miata," he answered matter-of-factly.

"Excuse me?" his mother looked at him with a furrowed brow.

"It's what I broke…or I don't know if broke is the right word. But well, I guess it's technically accurate. I doubt the engine works after being submerged overnight in Lake Rutherford."

"Oh for fuck's sake Logan," his father groaned, rubbing his face wearily. "Tell me you didn't."

"Sorry, no can do."

"And exactly what is it going to take to fix this? A new gymnasium?"

"You see, the thing is, I'm afraid Dean Eldon was really attached to that car. He seemed pretty firm on the me not coming back thing."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me. You got expelled again? From Rivers? No one gets expelled from Rivers."

"What can I say?" Logan shrugged. "I'm an overachiever."

"Honestly, Logan," Shira whined dramatically, guzzling the wine from her glass. "Why must you act up like this? Is it just to hurt me? What am I supposed to tell my friends?"

"We're running out of schools to send you to," Mitchum growled. "And Yale doesn't exactly take kindly to multiple expulsions. Do you have any idea what it's going to take to get you into college at this rate?" Not college…Yale. It was the only college that mattered as far as Mitchum Huntzberger was concerned. And despite his 4.4 GPA, 1480 SAT scores, and Pulitzer level essay writing skills, his father was right—the school was not likely to look favorably on Logan's permanent record. A part of him hoped his father didn't have what it took to get him into Yale. Maybe that's why he did these things—to put Yale out of his reach. But of course, Mitchum Huntzberger was a high-profile alumnus with deep pockets, so as long as Logan had a high school diploma, no matter how many high schools it took to get it to him, he knew Yale would accept him.

"I don't know, a new gymnasium?" he shrugged.

"Why do these things always happen to me?" his mother wailed. He tried and failed to keep from rolling his eyes.

"You think this is funny?" His father barked.

"A little." Maybe not the getting kicked out of school part, but his mother's melodramatics never failed to amuse.

"You're a fucking screw-up Logan," Mitchum bellowed, slamming his scotch down on the end table and standing up in a fury. Logan just stood there silently, letting the words echo off the walls as his father stalked towards him. He was used to this by now. It barely even affected him anymore. When his father screamed, it was like listening to an old TV with bad reception; the words were there, but they were obfuscated by a haze of black and white static. "There's nothing funny about that. There are people out there that would kill for the opportunities you have and yet you never fail to blow it all up. And the worst part is, you have what it takes if you would just give half a fuck for once in your life. But you don't care about one god damn thing, do you? And now I get to clean up your mess…again!"

"I can't deal with this," his mother announced, standing up. "I just…can't." She rushed from the room.

"And exit stage right." Logan mumbled under his breath. Fortunately his father didn't hear him, too entrenched in his own rage to notice.

"Great, now your mother's gonna go take half the medicine cabinet and spend the night locked in the spare room."

He wasn't wrong about that. Which as far as Logan was concerned was the point of all this. One parent down, one to go. "It won't be the first time."

"Do you even give a damn about anyone but yourself?" Did they, Logan wondered. But of course the answer was 'no.' Otherwise he wouldn't be here trying to get rid of them so they didn't find out about Honor and make it all about them.

"Look, I'm sorry," Logan lied. "It was a stupid prank. I apologized and offered to replace the car, but the Dean wouldn't hear it. Maybe if you called him…"

Mitchum shook his head with abject disappointment. "Get out of my sight." He pointed his finger towards the stairs.

"What are you going to do?" Logan asked.

"What I always do," he sighed. "Go clean up your mess. Try and find a damn school that will take you next year."

Logan nodded but didn't move. "GO!" Mitchum thundered, once again jabbing his finger in the direction he expected Logan to move. Logan turned, walking away as slowly as possible, trying to make it look like he was just being properly contrite, but all the while trying to keep tabs on his father. As he made it to the French doors that led to the atrium, he noted Mitchum turn and start walking in the direction of his office. Logan continued to walk slowly until he heard the slamming of the office door for confirmation. Perfect! He'd be in there all night. And after all the screaming that had just occurred, the maid wouldn't dare peak her head out of the kitchen anytime soon.

Logan finally picked up his pace, dashing back up the stairs to Honor's room. The detachment he'd put in place to deal with his parents lifted and fear and urgency once again took over as he made his way back to his sister. He had no idea how long he was away from her or if her condition had deteriorated in that time. He didn't want to waste another second.

He pushed open the bedroom door without knocking this time and made a beeline for the bathroom. Honor was in the same spot he'd left her, looking just as awful.

"Hey," he said, squatting down next to her. "Come on, you need to get up. We've got to go."

"What about…"

"I took care of them," he assured her.

"How?" she asked weakly as he helped her into a sitting position.

"Don't worry about it. I promise, the coast is clear and they won't show their faces for the rest of the night."

"Logan," she groaned, "what did you do?"

"You don't need to worry about that. You just need to focus on getting up and walking to the car, okay?"

She nodded numbly as she gave him her hand and let him pull her to standing. They made their way slowly through the room. Honor paused halfway, looking down at herself. "I need something to…" She pointed at her closet, indicating she needed something to cover her blood-stained clothes.

"Right." She put a hand on the wall to steady herself and Logan let go of her, hurrying over to the closet.

"I have a trench coat…back left corner." He popped into the walk-in, quickly finding the article of clothing in question and grabbing it off the the hanger. He helped her into it and once again put her arm around his shoulder so he could help steady her as she walked.

They made it to the stairs. "Hold on." She gripped the bannister and he once again left her side to take a few steps down and confirm the atrium was clear—it was. They moved slowly but he finally got her to his AudiR8 and set her into the passenger seat, buckling her in before making his way to the driver side and getting in himself.

His anxiety abated some as her pulled out onto the road. At least in the car they could go fast. Plus, for as much as he knew his parents wouldn't show their faces again for the rest of the night, the infinitesimally small chance of getting caught had had his heart in his throat.

They'd been driving for a few minutes, listening to the sounds of New Radicals, without a word said between them. The tension was building up inside of him again, his head starting to fill with a million thoughts. "Are you sure you don't want to call anyone?" he eased into it.

"No." she said flatly.

"What about…" the next words chocked in his throat, "the father?"

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "No," she repeated, her head shaking slowly back and forth.

"Okay, but is he, I mean, will he…" he didn't know what he meant, actually. It was a jumble of questions he knew he had no right to ask.

"He's not a factor." Her eyes were blank and glossy.

"Right." Not a factor. What did that even mean? There were a million possibilities. Was he some one-night stand? An ex? A…he didn't even want to think about that last possibility.

"We were…seeing each other," she finally said after more awkward silence. "Nothing serious, but I thought we were at least…" she inhaled shakily. "But I was wrong. And he wanted to keep seeing other people. When I found out and told him, he accused me of trying to trap him." She let out a scoff. "As if I need to trap anyone. For what? Money? He had to TA intro to psych just to afford his books. I would have been doing him a favor having his baby."

Logan felt the rage and amusement warring within him. Leave it to Honor to be charmingly snobbish in the middle of a medical emergency.

"We men are stupid."

"Yeah, well…it's not like I was gonna keep it so he was shit out of luck either way. Guess I don't need that appointment at the clinic next week." She shrugged as though it were nothing—like she was talking about cancelling yoga class because she had a cold.

"Guess not." Was that the right response? To go along with whatever she said? It felt wrong…acting dismissive when inside he felt like putting his first through the windshield—or better yet, this TA's face. Of course he knew that wouldn't help either. Would anything help? He just felt so powerless.

"Logan?"

"Yeah, Hon?"

"Thank you for not being my obnoxious, bratty, little brother anymore."

"Oh, I'm totally your obnoxious, bratty little, brother. I promise, Mom and Dad will vouch for that…especially after tonight. I'm as obnoxious as the day I decapitated all your Barbie Dolls and sling shot their heads into that old sump over on Dunberry."

Honor laughed weakly at the memory. "No, really though," she told him. "You've grown up."

"Well, if it helps, when you're feeling better, I promise to make inappropriate passes at all your friends."

She shook her head with a weedy smile on her face, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, Logan."

"Hey, that's what brothers are for. And also, you're going to owe me one really monumental secret one day, and knowing me, I can promise you, it's gonna be a doozy."

December 2005

Honor tore open a packet of Splenda and stirred it into her coffee before taking a sip and letting the warmth spread through her, sending a jolt of invigoration to her exhausted synapses. She'd hardly slept a wink last night with the worry. Logan had shown up on the doorstep of her and Josh's Brighton brownstone at 11 PM. That was entirely too early for the kind of trouble her brother usually got himself into on a Saturday night. And she hadn't even known he was in town. When she'd opened the door to find him standing on the stoop with a packed suitcase and seen the wearied look on his face, she knew instantly that nothing about this was usual. She'd ushered him in without a word, made him a cup of tea, and turned on an old rerun of Who's the Boss. She'd kept waiting for him to tell her something…anything, but he hadn't said a word. She didn't want to push him, but the longer he went without speaking, the more worried she became. Well, she had let him have the night to process whatever it was he was processing, but this morning, he was going to have some explaining to do.

She turned her attention to the New York Tribune in front of her and tried to distract herself from her worries about her brother…and from the lackluster grapefruit she was having for breakfast. Once the wedding was over, she was never going to look at another grapefruit again. But until then, she would just have to suffer…it would all be worth it when she slipped into her wedding dress and walked down the aisle with eyes glued to her in all her skinny glory.

The words on the paper all blurred together and she couldn't decide if it was the exhaustion, the worry, or the hypoglycemia. Either way, it didn't much matter as she heard her brother's footsteps clomping down the stairs. He lumbered into the dining room, his hair wet and disheveled, his head down. She wasn't used to him looking anything less than cocky so this diffident posture was scarcely able to compute with her. She kept her eyes trained on the newspaper she'd been unsuccessfully attempting to read. The sound of chair legs scraping against the hard wood floor let her know he'd taken his seat. Out of the corner of her eye, she noted him grab for the pot of coffee.

"Megan, can you get my brother some pancakes?" she said, the only acknowledgement of his presence. She knew her brother. She knew how to get him to talk. And bombarding him with questions wasn't the way. No, silence was the key to his destruction. Logan couldn't stand silence; it always made him immensely uncomfortable. He had to fill it with something—the TV, music, mindless chatter about absolutely nothing with his idiot friends. If she stayed quiet enough, the discomfort would bubble up inside of him until he finally came out with whatever it was.

The silence reigned on as they waited for his breakfast. Meredith came in and sat a plate in front of Logan.

"Where's Josh?" he asked after another few minutes of silence. She glanced up to see him listlessly dragging a piece of pancake through a puddle of syrup. God, what she wouldn't give to eat a pancake lathered in syrup. With real butter.

"Golfing." She answered monosyllabically, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him, one eyebrow raised. Logan glanced down at his plate again, going back to playing with his food and trying to ignore her penetrating gaze. But he couldn't. He knew it, and she knew it. With a defeated sigh, he set his fork down and looked up, glancing nervously around the room.

"Remember your bridal shower?" he finally spoke.

"Of course I do." She shrugged, playing it cool. She uncrossed her arms and reached for her coffee mug. "It was my shower." She took a sip of the brew, letting the warmth provide her frayed nerves with some comfort.

Logan rolled his eyes at her purposely obtuse answer, then, after a pause, he continued. "Remember the part where you asked me if I'd gotten a girl pregnant?"

Her eyes went wide and the coffee caught in her throat at the 'p' word. She remembered. She remembered how weird her brother had been acting that whole day. She remembered the strange way he'd acted around her friend's baby. She remembered how relieved she'd been when he told her it was a false alarm. She set her mug down slowly and deliberately. "You said you hadn't." The words were flat and disaffected as she strained to keep herself from reacting before she had all the information.

"Well…" she watched as he visibly swallowed. "I may have been mistaken."

"May have been? What the hell, Logan?" Okay, so not reacting was not exactly her forte. "There are no halfway options here. Either there's a pregnant girl or there's not."

"Well," he shrugged his shoulders. "Technically there are lots of pregnant girls. There are millions of babies born every year, and…"

"Logan!"

His shoulders drooped in resignation, confirming what she knew he was telling her all along.

"My shower was over two months ago," she screeched. "How could you not say anything about this until now? She must be at least three, four months along." She couldn't quite make sense of it. Why had he told her it was a false alarm back then? Why was he telling her about it now? She knew Logan liked to avoid any and all responsibilities, but would he really ignore a situation like this for this long? She couldn't believe that. Sure, Logan liked to hem and haw and pretend to be an irresponsible brat, but when push came to shove, he did what needed to be done. He was a good guy masquerading as a no-good lout. She, more than anyone knew the depths that were hidden beneath his normally carefree charm.

"Eight."

"What?" her hands, which hand been gesticulating wildly in reproach, dropped limply, banging into the table and making the porcelain dishes clatter as she blinked her eyes in disbelief.

"It's Rory," he clarified. "And she's eight months pregnant."

"Oh god." Honor rubbed her face wearily, letting her shoulder slump. Rory? As in Rory Gilmore? At least this bit of knowledge made some things make sense. Like why the only girl who had ever wormed her way into Logan's heart had broken it so callously in a letter. She must have been so frightened. After that disastrous dinner with Mom and Grandpa, not to mention what Honor knew about the Gilmore family history, she couldn't imagine having to break that kind of news. Still, for Logan to have found out about this months ago and not only hidden it from everyone, but lied right to her face about it…? "What the hell have you gotten yourself into, little brother?"

"She was working at a bookstore in Back Bay," Logan began to explain. "I stopped in to kill some time before your shower and she was just…there. There and pregnant. She begged me not to say anything. She couldn't face her family."

Her brother was an idiot. She loved him to hell and back, but deep down he was a bleeding-heart idiot. "You have to tell them, Logan. This isn't a game. The Gilmores have been out of their minds. And Rory is going to need their support. She can't do this all alone."

"She's not alone," Logan objected, squaring his shoulders defensively. "She has me."

She didn't know if she should be proud or livid. She settled on exasperated, rolling her eyes at him like she had done so often when they were growing up. "You know what I mean. It's good that you're willing to take responsibility for this, but what are you going to do? How are you going to support them without anyone knowing? That's not how a family works, Logan. That's not how any of this works. I know you don't have a lot of experience with relationships, and that the whole 'us against the world' thing sounds epic and romantic, but it's not. Don't be an idiot. You need to be practical. You have to tell them."

His defensive posture melted away and he slumped back in his chair, a deep sense of melancholy washing over his face. "They know," he admitted, she felt a sense of overwhelming relief for the splitest of seconds, but it was gone the instant the next words were spoken. "Rory has pre-eclampsia. She collapsed at work yesterday and apparently she had her father listed as emergency contact."

"Oh my god," her heart thudded furiously in her chest. She didn't know Rory well, but she'd liked her when she'd met her. And sure, her opinion had soured when she'd broken her brother's heart, but now that she knew why…Besides, Logan clearly still had strong feelings for this woman…and she was carrying Honor's niece or nephew. "Is she okay?"

Logan nodded numbly. "For now, they said it's under control. They're going to try to get her through a few more weeks before delivering as long as her blood pressure stays stable and her kidney function is okay."

"Good." Honor nodded, her heart rate slowing. If Rory and the baby were going to be okay then they could get back to Logan. Rory's family knew what was going on now, which meant Logan couldn't hide this from their parents any longer even if he wanted to. They were going to have to tell them. And they were going to need a plan. "So, then we just need to worry about our family. We'll set up dinner with the parentals. I'll go with you. They'll be mad but they'll have to deal with it. And Dad won't insist on sending you to London now. It won't look good. Maybe New York. They'll probably pressure you to get married, but not before graduation at least, so we've got time to figure that out and…"

"I'm not going to New York. Or London," Logan interrupted her. She looked up at him in confusion. "I'm staying in Boston. And I'm graduating in three weeks."

"What?" No. That didn't make sense. He was graduating in May. She had it written in her calendar. She'd listened to countless rants from her parents about how it was about time. It had been just about hailed as a miracle in the Huntzberger household that he was finally graduating this spring.

"I'm graduating in three weeks," he reiterated. "I had to drop my English major, but the bursar's office approved it. It's done."

The world had clearly spun off its axis because nothing was making sense anymore. Logan was graduating early? Well, not early in the traditional sense of the word—but earlier than mandated. He was dropping his English major? He was moving to Boston? How? "You're going to be running a newspaper business, you need an English major. And Dad will never consent to you moving to Boston; we don't have any papers or offices here."

"It doesn't matter," Logon informed her with a steadfast look in his eyes. "Because I won't be working for Dad."

"Oh god, Logan," Honor dropped her face into her hands. Just what was he planning? And how long had he been planning it if he'd already gotten it approved by the bursar's office? And most importantly, what the hell was he thinking? "What the hell? How the hell is it possible that someone as smart as you can be so damn stupid? You have a family to support now, how exactly do you plan on doing that if you quit your job with the company?"

"I'll have an ivy league degree and I've already got something lined up work-wise. I can take care of us without Dad and that stupid job I never wanted anyway. Things will be tight at first, but we'll be fine." He was serious about this. He was goddamn serious. She could see it in his eyes. He really thought he was going to leave the business and get some starter job and raise a kid with this woman with no help from his family.

"Do you even have any idea what 'tight' living is like? You? Whose idea of a necessity is Evian water and high-octane gas for your Porsche?"

"Putting regular gas in a high compression engine will cause it to knock which could cause major damage to the pistons," Logan argued.

Honor threw her hands up in the air. "See?" He had no idea what he was getting himself into.

"Look, it doesn't matter. I'm going to have to trade the Porsche in for a more reasonable family car anyway, so the point is moot."

"Wow!" Honor looked at him with awe in her eyes. Maybe he did have an idea. It may not have seemed like much to an average person, but they were far from average. And Logan loved that car like a child…or apparently he had before he was about to have an actual child. "You're really serious about this."

"I love them, Honor," he admitted. She believed him. How could she not when the eyes that were looking right at her were the same eyes she saw in the mirror every time she practiced saying 'I do' to Josh on their wedding day. "Rory and Samuel…that's his name—Samuel."

She felt a warmth blossom in her chest. Both at the thought of her new nephew, but also at the words her brother was saying. A year ago she never would have imagined those words coming out his mouth sarcastically, let alone with this degree of sincerity. "I'm proud of you, Logan. Well, okay, not for the lying and sneaking around and getting a girl pregnant parts," she bobbed her head concedingly. He was still an idiot. "But for stepping up. I'm proud of you. I mean, what happened to that irresponsible kid who sank a yacht and almost got imprisoned by the Indonesian Coast Guard? The one who couldn't commit to a hobby for more than a week, let alone commit to a kid?"

"He was stupid. He didn't know what he wanted and he just kept skating by on his family money and devilishly handsome good looks…" he let a small smirk play on the corner of his lips for a second before getting serious again, "because it was easier than figuring out what he did want and fighting for it."

"No," she shook her head as a memory came to her unbidden; one she'd tried so hard to suppress for so long. One that they'd never spoken of again after that night. One she'd never spoken of to anyone…not to Walker, not to Alexandra, not even to Josh. And she knew he'd never told a soul either. He'd kept her secret, no questions asked. Just as he'd kept Rory's. "I mean, maybe a little," she admitted. "But this guy…this one I'm seeing now, he was always in there. You tried to hide him, but when push came to shove, you were always the kind of guy who would be there for the people you loved, no questions asked."

She continued to look at him; her little brother, all grown up. "There's something else," he admitted once the silence had dragged on for a beat too long.

Honor shook herself out of her daze. "What?" she asked.

Logan looked around nervously, his eyes darting in the direction of the kitchen where Megan was probably cleaning up the remnants of breakfast. There was another secret. One he didn't want overheard. And while she trusted the maid explicitly, she knew her brother wouldn't talk until there was no chance of her overhearing them. "Megan," she called out to the woman. "Can you please go put my brother's things in the wash so he has some clean clothes to wear?"

"Of course, Miss Honor." They heard the clicking of footsteps retreating towards the stairs and as they faded away into the distance, Logan looked back at her. "This information can't leave this room," he said, even though he knew she knew that.

"Of course."

"Okay…" he took a deep breath. "You see, the thing is, that day at your shower, when I told you it wasn't what it looked like…" he paused and she just waited for him to continue. "I wasn't exactly lying."

"What do you mean," Honor's face scrunched up in confusion. "You said Rory…"

"I know," he nodded. "And she is. It's just…" She watched as he squeezed his eyes shut nervously. She could feel the conflict radiating off him.

"You can tell me, Logan," she assured him. Whatever it was, whatever secret he needed to get off his chest, he could tell her. It would live and die with her if that's what he wanted. Just like hers did with him. "It's just, that day…you'd asked me if I'd gotten a girl pregnant. And well…I might not have."

She couldn't move. She wasn't even sure she was breathing. She just sat there, staring. "Honor?"

She held up a single solitary finger as she tried to make sense of the words that had just come out of her brother's mouth. Her commitment-phobic, playboy brother's mouth. He couldn't be saying what she thought he was saying.

"So, you're saying…" She definitely needed him to clarify "That this baby isn't…"

"I don't know," he elaborated. "Maybe. Maybe not. There was this…thing with her ex right before we made things with us official. She assumed it was his. She even told him before she ran away and he told her to get rid of it. She wasn't hiding it from me…I mean, technically she was, but not like that."

"He told her to get rid of it?" She was shocked but sadly, she was hardly surprised. Men sucked. Most of them anyway. It wasn't like she hadn't been on the receiving end of it herself once before. Hell, Honor wasn't entirely sure Logan wouldn't have said the same thing to a girl under different circumstances. And yet, she was still shocked.

"It's complicated, but basically he got back together with someone else and he chose her over Rory and the baby."

"Asshat," Honor grumbled angrily. As complicated as her feelings about Rory were, she felt fiercely protective of the girl. She was family now, in a way…maybe? He'd said she'd assumed it was this other guy's—past tense. So did that mean…? "Did you get a DNA test then?"

"No. And I don't want one."

"Excuse me?" Damn, the shocks just kept on coming. "But…"

"I told you," Logan looked her straight in the eye unblinkingly. "I love them. Both of them. Samuel is my son. I don't care about DNA. I don't need to know. I don't want to know."

"Okay, but…"

"No!" He growled, leaning forward. "No 'but's. There's nothing you can say that will change how I feel about this. It took me long enough to convince Rory, I'm not going to try to convince you too. You don't need to agree, you don't need to understand, you just need to keep your promise and not say anything"

There was something almost feral in her brother's face; fierce, and protective. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen anything like it before…not from him. He was a lover, not a fighter. But she supposed when it came down to it, sometimes being a lover meant being a fighter—fighting for what you loved.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. "I won't say anything." How could she? If Logan was serious about this—and it was very clear he was—no good would come of saying a word. If their father knew there was even an iota of a chance that Logan wasn't the biological father, there would be no peace for anyone until he'd destroyed everything. He'd do everything possible to drive a wedge between Logan and Rory and force Logan back to the business. He'd ruin Rory. And in the process, he'd ruin Logan. And that poor baby would be nothing but a casualty. Honor would never let that happen.

He let out the breath he'd been holding and sat back in his chair, his muscles unclenching with relief. She watched as he popped an undoubtedly cold, soggy piece of pancake in his mouth and made a funny face and she almost let out a laugh. "Grapefruit?" she asked, sliding her plate with the half-eaten citrus across the table.

He grimaced again. "I think I'll just grab something at the hospital. I need to get going."

"We still need to figure out what we're going to say to Mom and Dad," she reminded him.

"Tonight?" he asked.

"You can't keep putting this off."

"I know," he nodded. "I just really want to get over there and check on them."

"Do you want me to come?"

He shook his head in the negatory. "It's not a good idea right now. Things with her family are…tense."

She nodded in understanding. Logan stood up from the table and as she watched him walk out of the dining room, she felt an indescribable pride well up inside of him. Her little brother really was all grown up.