I nod. “Yeah. And I feel really, really bad. I know he went to prison. I tried to explain that it doesn’t matter, but…”

  Just then, there’s another knock at the door. This one firm. Loud.

  Alice looks at me, and I get up to cheek the peephole. I open the door, and Logan greets us both.

  “Alice,” he says with a nod. Then softer, “Birdie.”

  He’s holding a piece of unfinished wood in his hands, the perfect length and shape for a handrail.

  “Am I interrupting? I was going to get back to work,” he says, then kneels back down in front of his tools and materials.

  “Not interrupting at all. I’m going to pry my daughter away from Birdie’s,” Alice says. “I have a feeling the begging is about to begin. Zoey is desperate for a sister, but I have a feeling…” She pats her stomach.

  “Wait, what?” I stand and walk over to her. “Alice, are you…?”

  Logan’s head whips up, and we look at each other for a moment before we look at her.

  “Shh,” she whispers. “Morris and I have only told Zoey so far. We don’t want to take any of the excitement of Lia and Leo’s baby shower away from them. We’ll tell everyone after that’s over. But Zoey is so excited, all she can do is pick out names and plan games. She’s going to be a great big sister, but I have a feeling she’s going to be very disappointed when this little nugget turns out to be a brother. We had to bribe her that she can name her sibling if she keeps this secret until after the shower. It’ll be a miracle if we don’t end up with a kid named after a Rainbow Ranger.”

  I start to laugh, because that takes real faith. If I let Mia name another human being, I can almost guarantee it wouldn’t turn out well. My mom helped her name Gavin the giraffe after Mia wanted to name him “Giraffey.”

  Crow is beaming. “Morris…a dad. A mini-Morris.” He stands up from his work and walks over to Alice. “Congratulations.”

  She wraps her arms around him and laughs, lifting up on her toes and squeezing him tight. “We’re thrilled. It wasn’t expected, but it’s a very happy accident. Although it’s a secret for now. Got it?”

  “Got it. Lips are sealed, babe.”

  When Alice releases Logan, even though I hardly know her, I’m grinning and pulling her in for a hug. “Congratulations. How far along are you?”

  “It’s early,” she says. “Not even ten weeks, so we’ve got a long way to go, but I’m feeling surprisingly good. Just tired. That’s part of the reason I’m so happy that Zoey has found someone she can have fun with. It’s going to be hard after being an only child all this time to have a baby to compete with. And I just haven’t had the same energy I normally do to run around and keep her entertained.” Alice releases me from the hug and meets my eyes. “I’m so glad you’ve come into our lives. I think our girls are going to need each other.”

  She walks up the stairs, calling for Zoey. I can already hear the groans of annoyance and Zoey begging her mom for more time.

  When we’re alone downstairs, I study Logan’s face. I hope like hell he’s going to let me apologize, but he looks happy and light.

  “A baby. God, that’s good news.” He looks down at his hands. “You know, not that long ago, one of us knocking somebody up wouldn’t have been something to celebrate.” He looks at me. “But times change. People change.”

  He bends down to get back to work, and I open my mouth to say something, to walk through the door I feel he’s opened just a crack, but Alice is already heading back down the stairs, both of our daughters putting up quite a fight about separating.

  “Mama, can Zoey spend the night? Please.”

  I laugh at Mia’s theatrics, but Zoey’s got her beat.

  “Mom,” Zoey deadpans, “you wouldn’t believe how fast the time flew. We hardly had enough time to get started. We had to break for lunch, and with all the setup…seriously. We need more time. Can I please, please stay? I promise not to stay up all night.”

  Alice is firm. “Absolutely not. Don’t forget, Bridget is still recovering. She doesn’t need to be responsible for two wildlings.” Alice puts her hands on Zoey’s shoulders. “And you know you are incapable of going to sleep early when you have a sleepover. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you inconvenience Bridget like that tonight. Maybe when she’s all better, if Bridget thinks it’s okay.”

  “Why don’t we bring Mia to our house instead? We won’t keep anyone up there, and we can stay up all night.”

  Alice bends to meet her daughter’s face and holds her cheeks between her palms. “You realize that’s really not selling me on the idea, right?”

  But Mia jumps on that and wraps her arms around my waist. “That’s such a good idea, Mama. Can I? Can I sleep over at Zoey’s?”

  I look at Alice, tilting my chin. “Honey, Alice didn’t plan on an overnight guest tonight. I don’t know if…” I look at the woman. I hardly know her, but I have met her husband. They invited me to a baby shower next week. I don’t know these people, but is it really all that different from the kids Mia knows from school having a sleepover? It’s not like I go over and do a house inspection every time my daughter has a playdate. While I do insist on meeting both parents before letting her have sleepovers with anybody, that’s a box I can already check with Alice and Morris.

  “I’m fine with it if you are,” Alice says. “Morris is going to be out riding with Tiny until probably suppertime, so having Mia around will keep Zoey entertained.” Alice looks at me. “We were thinking of picking up Chinese food for dinner. Is that okay with Mia?”

  “I love Chinese.” Mia seems so happy. Nothing like the responsible, worn-out little girl she’s had to be the last few months. After what she’s been through this week, I feel like she deserves to have some fun with her new friend.

  “Are you sure it’s no trouble?” I ask. “Really, Alice, if you think—”

  Alice shakes her head. “Honestly, you’ll be doing me a favor. I’ve been more tired than usual, if you know what I mean, so having someone keep up with Zoey will be great. Morris and I can catch up on our shows tonight, guilt-free.”

  I look at Alice and Zoey, then to Mia. This is all so unexpected, happening so fast. But I guess that’s how life happens. And this is a good thing for my daughter, so I don’t hesitate to accept the offer.

  “Pack your toothbrush,” I remind Mia. “And no staying up all night. When Alice says it’s time to quiet down and get some sleep—”

  The girls are squealing and hugging again, and I can’t help but feel happy for them. They thunder up the stairs, and I can hear Zoey telling Mia that maybe now her mom will let her get bunk beds.

  “You’re going be sleeping over all the time, and we can’t just rough it in sleeping bags.”

  Alice is laughing and shaking her head. “Rough it,” she echoes.

  She makes sure I have every possible phone number I could need—her cell phone, Morris’s, the office number, and even the compound number. “Just in case,” she says. She also gives me her home address and asks if I know the neighborhood.

  “I do,” I say.

  “Well, you come by any time tomorrow, and… Oh, nope, nope. Never mind. You shouldn’t drive yet, right? I’ll run Mia back tomorrow in the afternoon. I’ll call first to see if you need anything before I come by.”

  “No, really, that’s okay. I can do it. You’re doing enough just keeping her for the night.”

  Logan is giving me a look but doesn’t say anything.

  “Well, we can figure that out tomorrow,” Alice says.

  We compare notes on food allergies and house rules for a minute, but then the kids come back down the stairs, and I swear I’ve never seen my child look happier.

  “I’ll give you my car seat,” I say and grab my keys.

  “I’ll get it.” Logan stands and takes the keys from my hands. When our fingers touch, he holds mine for a moment.

  Electric pulses travel from my fingers to my toes at the slight contact, but I don’t move my hand away. I lean into it and breathe in the warm citrus smell that mixes with the light scent of wood dust. “Thank you,” I tell him. I don’t want to risk running him off again.

  He grunts in response and follows Alice to my car. I watch from the windows as he secures the car seat beside Zoey’s in the back of Alice’s SUV. Alice goes around to check it while I give Mia a last list of instructions.

  “Baby,” I say. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a sleepover. Listen to Zoey’s mom and dad, and if you need anything, you just call me. Okay? You’ll be good?”

  Mia grabs me in a tight hug. “I will. I promise. Love you.” And then she, her backpack, sleeping bag, and her new best friend are tearing down the front lawn toward Alice’s car.

  I watch them drive away, waving until Logan comes back into the house.

  He hands me the keys to the car. “I double-checked the seat,” he says.

  I nod. “Thank you so much for doing that.” I know I could have done it myself, but somehow having Logan here, letting him do something for me, just feels better than words. Better than talking.

  By now, it’s nearly four, and the afternoon sun has dipped behind the clouds. “I’m going to make some tea,” I say. “Do you want some?”

  “I’d love that.”

  I head into the kitchen and start the water to boil. I can hear Logan start to hammer, but then he stops. His footsteps are behind me.

  “Birdie?”

  I turn toward his voice, so low and insistent.

  “Yeah?” I step closer to him, searching his eyes. I’m not sure if he’s come for an apology, to talk, or something altogether different, but I’m here for whatever it is.

  He holds out a hand to me. “You should wear these. The hammering.”

  Of course. The earplugs. “Why are you so thoughtful?” I ask. I step close to him and reach out my hand. He sets the earplugs in my palm with his right hand, but his other hand is beneath mine. He closes them together, enveloping my hand in both of his.

  “I don’t want to make things worse for you,” he says quietly. “You’ve been through enough.”

  “Are you talking about the headache?” I ask. “Or other things?”

  “Everything,” he grits out. His eyes are inches from mine, their depths so dark and intense, I feel like I could get lost in them if I keep looking.

  But I refuse to look away.

  He nods slowly, bringing his forehead to touch mine. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I wish I were a different man.”

  “I don’t,” I tell him.

  I bring my hands to his face and angle his head back from mine so I can look into his eyes. I lightly stroke the stubble on his cheeks and chin, and his lips part. I drag my eyes away from his perfect lips and beautiful teeth and meet his eyes.

  “If you were a different kind of man, we would never have met.” I trail a fingertip along his lower lip, and I can feel his whole body react. It’s like my touch has shocked him and every muscle has gone tight.

  “Birdie,” he whispers.

  “Crow,” I echo.

  “Can I be honest with you?” Logan asks.

  “I would love that,” I say. “You can tell me anything.”

  “Anything?” he asks. “You’re sure?”

  I nod, braced for whatever is coming. I’m oddly not nervous or scared. I don’t feel like there’s anything he could tell me that wouldn’t bring me closer to him. I want to grab him and bring our foreheads back together, so I can smell him and feel him as we talk, but what we just shared feels so intimate, I don’t know if I should push for more.

  Logan steps close to me and puts two fingers under my chin. “Birdie,” he breathes, “your sweet tea is kind of awful. And I’ve been to prison, so that’s saying something.”

  I’m shocked at first, a hand over my mouth. But then I’m laughing. Laughing so hard tears gather in the corners of my eyes. Then Logan is laughing, and before I know it, I’m reaching for him, pulling his face close to mine.

  When I lift my lips, he’s there, ready for me. His lips touch mine, and the sensation is light and soft, like he’s tasting something he’s unsure about, but then quickly, the kiss grows dark and intense, like him. I open my mouth, and his tongue tangles with mine. My breath quickens, and liquid heat surges through my core. But he pumps the brakes on the kiss, pulling back reluctantly, slowly. Nibbling my lower lip and arcing a hand beneath my hair to hold the back of my neck.

  “Birdie,” he breathes.

  “Mmm?”

  “There’s more I need to tell you.”

  11

  CROW

  “Can we talk later?” Birdie’s rain-cloud eyes are half closed. Her lips are parted, her breath coming in small gasps. “I just want…this. You.”

  All the plans in my head about what I was going to say, everything I was going to explain, fly out the window. I slide my hands under her hair and weave my fingers through the silky strands. As I touch her, I can smell the warm heat radiating off her body, her hair, a sweet scent of berry and vanilla. My mouth waters, and I hold her head in my hands, searching her face.

  “You want me?” I grunt, not wanting to believe it but desperately needing to. “This?”

  I lower my lips to hers and try to memorize every second of this experience. I haven’t been with a woman in so long, I know there’s no way I want to waste any part of it. I release her hair and run my fingers over her lips, her chin, exploring the tender skin, the soft curves of the most beautiful face I’ve seen. Not just since before prison. Ever.

  Birdie awakens something in me that no other woman has. It’s primal and raw, the desire and the drive I have to protect her. To be near her. To be part of whatever life this is she’s trying to make. Flawed and funny and real. My blood sizzles through my veins, and I’m like a starving man set before a feast, but I refuse to dive in. I need to take my time. This is a moment I didn’t realize I’ve been wanting, and now that it’s here, I’m going to make it last.

  Birdie isn’t a meal. She’s nourishment, sustenance. I want to feed off this sweetness as long as I can.

  I lower my head and claim her lips in light, fluttering kisses.

  “So good,” I groan. “You taste so, so good. Feel so, so good.”

  Her hands are on my back, tentative at first, but as I open my mouth and deepen the kiss, her fingers are searching, pulling me closer. Our hips are pressed together, the heat of our bodies forming a seal I don’t ever want to break.

  I dip my tongue against hers, then go deeper, our teeth clacking as electricity makes my body tight and hard in all the right places. I scrape my stubble against her chin, her cheeks, and pull back to kiss the tender pink skin of her neck. She’s flushed with arousal, her eyes closed, her head thrown back. I trace a line down her throat with my lips, but I stop when I reach the hollow of her neck.

  I have to stop. My body is like an animal on the prowl, and I’ve got Birdie in my sights. I want to claim her, own her, make her mine, but not like this. Not today. Not when there’s so much she needs to understand. I could fuck her and run, break the seal on seven long years of celibacy and isolation, but that’s not what I want from her. She’s not a one-and-done woman. I don’t think I’m a one-and-done man anymore. I’m different, and that makes this all the more important.

  I don’t want things to go so far that neither one of us has taken the time to be sure this is where we want to be. I ease my head back and put the tiniest bit of space between us.

  “You’re so…gorgeous,” I breathe, my fingertips worshipping her face, her cut eyebrow, her lips. “Birdie…”

  She swallows hard. “Crow… What is this?”

  I take in a deep breath of air, but it only brings her intoxicating scent deeper into my senses. If I could get drunk on this woman, I’d be trashed. It’s like my body is already wasted, but I’m insatiable, still wanting more.

  I grab her hand and lead her out of the kitchen, away from the small space where our bodies are pressed dangerously close. We sit on the couch side by side, and she laces her fingers through mine.

  “Crow, I’m—”

  “Don’t,” I tell her. “You don’t have to say anything.”

  “Please,” she says. “I’d like to say something. Ask you something, rather.”

  I nod and tighten my hold on her hand.

  “Will you tell me? About yourself? Not just about…that. I want to know who you are.” She’s looking at me with such openness and sincerity it about tears my heart in two. I don’t know that I’ve had a woman ask me that, want to know who I am. The fact that she’s asking me this, even though she’s fully aware that every word out of my mouth has the potential to disappoint her… That what I tell her could put the pieces of my life together in such a way that I don’t turn out to be a man she could want…

  It’s a risk I have to take. There can’t be any lies between us. There’s no sugarcoating this reality.

  What I felt in her kitchen just now, I want that again. I want more, so much more. I want her, everything about her, from her sore head to her stressed-out heart. I can only hope what I tell her doesn’t stop her from ever wanting the same with me. But like everything else I’ve lived through, there’s no way around it. No shortcut. I have to face it and take the fallout, whatever it is.

  “I grew up in a military family,” I say. “Dad got moved around a lot. Never in one place for long. Wish I could say my pops was a real American hero, but for him, the military was a job. A lifestyle that fit his rigid view of the world. Right was right, wrong was wrong. People were heroes or devils, and there wasn’t any in-between.”

  “He tried to raise us to be just like him, but…” I chuckle and look down at my arms. “The first time I saw a tattoo on a guy’s arm, my destiny changed course pretty quick.”

  “Yeah?” She curls her feet beneath her and leans against my side. “How so?”

  “I wanted ink. I wanted it so badly. To make my body look the way I wanted it to… It felt like an act of definition. I could be what I wanted to be. But my old man saw it as an act of defiance. Told me if I ever got one, I’d be out on the street the same day.”