His Fantasy Girl Page 8

  “Anyway,” her mum said. “There’s something I wanted to tell you. I—”

  She broke off as Jenny entered the room. Dressed in jeans and a pink shirt—she’d changed clothes about six times—her face was pale; she looked a little like Abby felt.

  “What if he doesn’t like me?” she asked.

  “Of course he’ll like you.” She gave Jenny a quick hug. “Remember, he’s probably as nervous as you. He’s never had a daughter before. I bet he’s changed his clothes about six times this morning as well.”

  Jenny giggled, then went serious. “I should be wearing a dress.”

  “No, the jeans are good.”

  “He’ll think I’m a tomboy.”

  “You are a tomboy.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Oh.”

  Another hug. “You’ll be fine. Don’t try to be something you’re not just for someone else. People need to love you as you are.”

  “Amen to that,” her mother said, and the words sounded heartfelt.

  At that moment a loud rumble came from outside on the street, as some sort of vehicle pulled up, followed by silence as the engine was switched off. It sounded like a bike. He’d come on a motorcycle?

  Her mum crossed the room and peered out through the window. “Holy crap,” she muttered.

  “Mum!”

  “Sorry, but…”

  Abby came up beside her and stared out through the glass. Logan sat astride a huge, gleaming black Harley. Jenny came to stand next to her, and Abby put an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close. As they watched, he pulled off his helmet. His black hair was tied back into a ponytail, revealing the sharp angles of his face. He wore black jeans and a black leather jacket. He didn’t look like anyone’s dad.

  “Is that my dad?” Jenny asked in awed tones.

  “Yes.”

  “Sara is going to be so jealous.”

  Abby caught her mother’s gaze over Jenny’s head, and her mum grinned.

  Out on the street, Logan swung his leg over the gleaming machine with an almost animal-like grace. He stood for a moment studying the house, and she had the urge to step back out of sight. But there was no hiding today.

  This was really happening.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to go change, Abby?” her mum asked. “Put on a pretty dress? Some makeup perhaps?”

  She was wearing tailored black slacks and a white shirt. Boring, but somehow she didn’t think Logan would be taking much notice of her today. This was about Jenny. She’d wanted to merge into the background.

  “No thanks.”

  “At least take your hair down.”

  She frowned.

  “Yes, mummy. Don’t you want to look pretty for daddy?” Jenny reached up and tugged the clip from her hair so it tumbled over her shoulders.

  “Hey.”

  The doorbell rang and she had no time to do anything about it. Taking a deep breath, she gave Jenny and her mum a quick smile and headed into the hallway. Then she took another deep breath and opened the front door.

  As Logan walked up the drive, a prickle ran down his spine. He glanced to the side and saw the curtain twitch.

  Was Abby watching him, regretting that he had ever come back into her life?

  Was his daughter there?

  Christ, get a grip.

  He couldn’t remember being this scared since his first night in prison. As he came to a halt at the front door, he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, then pressed the doorbell. It seemed like an age before he heard footsteps. The door opened and Abby stood there. He glanced behind her but she was alone in the hallway.

  “Hi,” he said, handing her the bottle of wine he carried and resisting the urge to wipe his palms down his pant legs.

  I can do this.

  “Come in.” She moved aside so he could pass, closed the door behind them, and followed him. “She’s through there with my mum,” she said waving a hand toward another door. “Did I mention my mum would be here? She lives with us. We would never have managed…” She was talking fast, and sounded as nervous as he was. That calmed him a little. As she leaned past him to open the door, he breathed in the scent of lemons, and the familiar smell dragged him back to the other night, the taste of her, the feel of her wrapped around him.

  He slammed a lid on those memories. Now was not the time.

  The door led into a lounge, but their surroundings faded as his gaze latched on to the girl standing in the center of the room, hands clasped in front of her, silver-gray eyes huge. He swallowed the lump in his throat and stepped through the door. There was no mistaking his daughter, and the knots in his stomach tightened as they stared at each other.

  “Hello.”

  He almost jumped as a woman stepped forward, a pleasant smile on her face. She held out her hand. “I’m Rachel, Abby’s mum.” She didn’t look old enough. While she had Abby’s heart-shaped face and blue eyes, her hair was blonde and curly and hung to her shoulders.

  He shook her hand. “I’m Logan.”

  Abby stepped up close to him. “And this young lady is Jenny.”

  He returned his attention to his daughter. She was so…big. He hadn’t expected that. She was tall—almost as tall as Rachel—and slender. How could he have been instrumental in making something so beautiful? He was finding it hard to believe she was part of him. “Hi, Jenny.”

  “Hi…” Jenny trailed off.

  He hadn’t considered this—what did his daughter call him? Maybe he should have discussed it with Abby first. To hell with that. “Call me ‘dad.’ If you want.”

  Jenny gave a shy smile. “Hi, Dad.”

  His breath hitched, and for a moment he had no clue what to say or do… or even how to speak.

  Rachel shook her head. “It’s uncanny, the likeness between the two of you. Let me take your coat, Logan.”

  He shrugged out of the jacket and handed it to her. Beneath it, he wore a black button down shirt, the sleeves rolled up, and he caught Jenny staring at the black and red tattoos snaking down his arms. What would she think of him?

  Rachel handed a glass of wine to Abby and an orange juice to Jenny. “Logan?”

  “A beer would be great.” He glanced at Abby. “Don’t worry, sergeant, I’ll just have the one. You won’t have to arrest me today.” Jenny giggled and he turned back to her. “Is she really strict with you as well?”

  She nodded.

  “Liar,” Abby said. “I have to help your grandma finish cooking the lunch. Why don’t you show Logan your room?”

  For a few seconds nobody moved, and his brain froze. Then Jenny obviously took pity on him and slid her hand into his. Hers felt small and fragile, and the knot tightened in his gut.

  “Come on,” she said, leading him out of the room, only letting go of his hand as she headed up the stairs. He followed her, glancing back once. Abby stood in the doorway watching them, brows drawn together, nibbling her lower lip. Was she regretting this already?

  Hard luck.

  Jenny took him to a small room at the back of the house, decorated in shades of purple with posters of ponies on the wall. Maybe he could get her one for Christmas. Or maybe not. Rory had showered him with presents when he’d first gone to live with him; it hadn’t made things easier.

  Once on her own territory, Jenny started talking non-stop, pointing at things, explaining what they were. He lost track, just collapsed on the bed and listened to the sound of her voice. He guessed she was as terrified as he was. He wished there was some way to put her at ease, but he was new to this and had no clue. “Jenny,” he said when she paused for a moment. “Are you okay with me being here?”

  She peeked at him shyly and gave a quick nod.

  “Good. You know,” he continued, “I didn’t know my dad until I was your age.”

  She’d been replacing a book on the shelf—her favorite apparently—and she turned to him, eyes wide. “You didn’t?”

  “He and my mum didn’t get on. I’m just saying,
I know how hard this is for you. But I want you to feel free to talk to me, to ask me anything.”

  She thought for a moment; he could almost see her mind working. “Do you and mum not get along? Is that why you haven’t been around?”

  He thought about his answer and blew out a breath. Honesty was a bitch. “No. That was my fault. I got in a…bit of trouble soon after we met, and we lost touch. Your mum and me—we don’t really know each other.”

  “But you’re going to?”

  “Of course. And so are we. So…favorite food?”

  She grinned “Pizza.”

  “Me, too. Hey, we must be related.”

  She giggled. At that moment, Abby called up the stairs that lunch was ready. This time Jenny’s hand slid into his easily, and something melted deep inside him. He’d never been good at relationships, but somehow he had to make this work.

  At the table, Abby seated him next to Jenny and opposite her mother.

  Throughout lunch, Jenny kept up a constant buzz of conversation as though she couldn’t switch off. Abby and Rachel added the odd comment when they could get a word in, but they didn’t try and slow her; maybe they realized she needed to get it out of her system. Taking their lead, he ate his meal almost in silence. When he’d finished eating, he pushed his chair back and relaxed, watching her as she chatted. Finally, she ran out of breath.

  “Why don’t you come and help me get some more drinks, Jenny?” Rachel asked, rising to her feet. Jenny gave Logan a reluctant glance but followed her out of the room.

  Logan shook his head. “Is she always this…intense?”

  “No,” Abby said. “She’s normally a little more relaxed.”

  He gave her a wry smile “Me, too.”

  “You’re doing great. She already likes you.”

  He blew out his breath and ran a hand through his hair. “She does?”

  “I can tell.”

  He sagged in his chair as some of the tension drained from him. “I don’t think I have ever been so shit-scared in my life. I wanted to bring her something, and then I remembered all the times I accused Rory of trying to buy me off.”

  “No, you did the right thing.”

  He glanced to the door where they could hear Jenny talking in the kitchen. “I’m surprised you’re not in a constant state of exhaustion.”

  “She’ll crash soon. She’s running on nervous energy.”

  He gave her a long look, studying her face, seeing the lines of strain etched around her mouth. This meeting hadn’t been easy for any of them. “Then maybe I should go. I’ve a lot to think about. But she’s wonderful. You did a good job, and I know it can’t have been easy.”

  She bit her lip and glanced away. “Thanks.”

  He stood up as the other two came back from the kitchen. Crossing the room to his daughter, he bent down and kissed her on the forehead. He thought quickly about what to say; he didn’t want to pressure her but he needed to leave her in no doubt that he would see her again. “It’s been lovely to meet you, Jenny. Maybe next time I can take you out somewhere.”

  Jenny beamed.

  Hell, he’d got it right.

  He shook hands with Rachel and turned to Abby. “Will you see me out?”

  Something flickered in her eyes—maybe she didn’t want to be alone with him—but she pushed back her chair and rose to her feet, leading him out into the hall. He pulled the door closed behind him and followed her to the front door.

  “Wait a second,” he said. He needed one more thing before he left.

  She turned to face him, eyes widening when she found his so close. He glanced back at the closed door before taking the final step closer, which brought his lean length flush against her body. His hand came out and slid under the hair at the nape of her neck. He tugged her closer as his mouth came down, and he delivered a swift, hard kiss before pulling back.

  His fear had drowned out his anger for a while. Now it came roaring back to life. “I can’t believe I have a daughter. I can’t believe she’s ten years old and I know nothing about her.” A tic twitched in his cheek, and he gritted his teeth to not say more. They had to work this out, and him blowing up would not help. All the same, he needed to make one thing perfectly clear. “I won’t be kept out of her life.”

  She swallowed. “I won’t try.”

  “Just as well. Because you’d fail.” He gave a curt nod. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Dizziness washed over her, and she forced herself to hold it together. It wouldn’t do for him to see how much he affected her. But his words had shaken her to the core. She touched her lips as the door closed behind him. Her mouth tingled. If she was honest, more than her mouth. Just the brief touch had lit little fires inside her, bringing her recalcitrant body to life. For a minute, she rested back against the wall, breathing evenly. When she was pretty certain she had herself under control, she straightened and headed back into the living room. Jenny and her mother were at the window, and she joined them there. Together they watched as Logan slung his leg over the Harley and pulled on his helmet. He gave a brief wave in their direction, the engine rumbled to life, and he vanished off down the road.

  They all let out a sigh in unison.

  “Well, that was intense,” her mum said. “But I like him. He’s…different.”

  “He is indeed.”

  Jenny turned to her. “Mum, can I have a tattoo?”

  She looked at her daughter through narrowed eyes, but knew well enough not to give an outright no. “Maybe when you’re older.”

  “How much older?”

  “About sixty-five. Now, why don’t you go read for a while? We can talk later.”

  She watched as Jenny pouted then wandered off to her room. Sinking onto the sofa she exhaled loudly, the tension drained out of her, leaving her weak and wobbly. Her mother gave her one look then disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a minute later with two glasses of wine.

  “Here,” she said, handing Abby one and sitting down beside her. “You look like you need this.” She took a sip and grinned. “So, Logan. He’s…stunning.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, don’t sound so depressed about it.”

  Abby shrugged. “I’m not looking for a boyfriend. And if I was, he’d be way out of my league.”

  “Yet you slept with him the other night.”

  “Mum!”

  “That’s not a criticism. I’ve been worried about you. You need more fun in your life.”

  “Ha. Bad things happen when I have fun.”

  “Jenny happened.”

  That stopped Abby in her tracks. She’d always thought of that one-night stand as a disaster that should never have happened. But if she could turn back the clock now, she would do it all over again. Jenny was worth everything that had happened. The only bad thing had been her mother and father splitting up—she’d always hold herself responsible for that. Even losing the chance to study law was a secret blessing. Deep down she’d only done it to please her father, to follow in his footsteps. Really, from an early age all she’d wanted to be was a detective, and she was close to that now. Hah, how would Logan feel about the fact that she’d only joined the force because of him? She must remember to tell him sometime.

  “I know, and I wouldn’t have things any other way. But getting involved with Logan is not a good idea. I get the impression he’s not really into relationships—more a one-night stand sort of guy.”

  “Or a two-night stand in your case”

  “Thanks for reminding me. But my point is, a relationship between us won’t last, but hopefully his with Jenny will. If we start something and break up, it will make things awkward. Better if I keep my distance from the start and keep things between us on a sensible footing.”

  “Good luck with that. But sweetheart, I have to be honest, I don’t look at that man and think ‘sensible’.”

  “No.”

  “Just ask yourself one thing—do you trust him with your daughter’s happiness?”
<
br />   “I hardly know him.”

  “You know him well enough. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.”

  Her mum was right. If she hadn’t trusted Logan, she would never have told him. She would have walked away. Her work had given her a good insight into character, though, honing a natural instinct. And strangely, despite his bad-boy appearance, she did trust him. And she was glad he hadn’t tried to turn himself into something different to impress them today. She’d probably have been less trusting if he’d turned up in an estate car and wearing a suit. This was Logan; he wasn’t going to magically turn into perfect father material overnight. Jenny would have to accept him as he was and that looked as though it was happening.

  “Yes, I trust him.”

  Trouble was, she wasn’t so sure she trusted herself.

  Chapter Seven

  Abby punched her pillow and slammed her head back down. It was after midnight, but she couldn’t sleep. Jenny had taken an age to settle. She’d been hyper and hadn’t stopped talking about Logan. She’d wanted to know everything about him, asking question after question, which were all a little difficult to answer because Abby knew virtually nothing about him or his family, except he had a brother with a nipple ring and a father who hated the police. She’d have to make him a questionnaire. Maybe she could email it to him so they wouldn’t have to meet. She was guessing she wasn’t his favorite person right now.

  But it wasn’t that keeping her awake. It was that damn kiss. Short and not particularly sweet, she couldn’t get it out of her head. The feel of his firm lips on hers, which made her think about where else those firm lips had been. The other night he’d tasted her everywhere. No one else but Logan had ever done that for her and it had been…unforgettable. Her insides melted at the memory, a now-familiar little pulse beating between her thighs.

  He wasn’t even here and he was driving her wild. Her nipples were hard beneath the strappy camisole she wore over her pajama bottoms. She bit down on her lip as she ran her palm over the tight little peaks and felt the touch between her legs. She imagined Logan’s mouth there, sucking and pulling, and she wriggled against the mattress.