Page 39 of Living at 40

“It was never going to be Mason.” I laugh, jostling Oliver, who is out like a light, and I shift him over my lap for more comfort.

“Why Logan?” Anna isn’t asking to be facetious. She’s truly curious why I chose him over Mason the manwhore. The virile, sexually appealing one, as my mother called him.

“I’ve always had a crush on Logan. We had this silly misunderstanding back when he was in college, but I’ve never really lost the infatuation with him.”

“What happened in college?” Anna asks, concerned.

“I might have . . .”—I check that Oliver isn’t listening—“tried to kiss Logan at a party and he rejected me.”

Anna’s brows lift. “I can’t imagine Logan ever rejecting anyone. He isn’t desperate but he also wasn’t the one girls went for first. In fact, Logan really struggled because once a girl met Mason, nine times out of ten, she’d go for Mason instead.”

Not liking the comparison, my lips purse. “Well, I never wanted Mason more than Logan.” My thoughts drift back to the incident with Logan and his dismissal of that night. His negative comments about the fat girl wanting his sausage. His humor was his coping mechanism and I’m sad at the thought he needed to protect himself. He was a great man, and any girl would have been lucky to handle his sausage back in college.

“If you have feelings for Logan, are you sure this is a good idea?” Anna asks. I’m still waiting for her shock or disapproval of my intentions to have a baby.

I thought it was a phase, Ben’s words rang through the closed bathroom door loud and clear this morning.

“It’s what I want,” I whisper, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to Oliver’s little head. He’s more than a baby, but these are the moments I want in life with my own child. The sense of security and comfort this wild child must feel with me as he’s crashed out on my lap.

“And what does Logan want?” Anna glances off toward the lake water, and I turn my head enough to see Lorna dancing in the waves with Mila.

“He’s been more than willing to participate,” I joke, but a bitter lump forms in my throat. Logan already has a child who adores him, and he worships her. Will he really be okay with giving me a child and walking away? I could never ask him to stay with me. Suddenly, I’m wondering if we’ve made a mistake. If I’ve made a mistake, allowing Logan to have sex with me for a baby. Maybe I should have asked Bert the vet, propositioning someone I don’t know half as well as I know Logan. Logan is someone too close to our group, and I’ve brought him even closer to me. “Do you think I’m doing the wrong thing?”

“I think you’re an adult and can do what you want. Just make certain you’re doing it for the right reasons.”

And what are those reasons? I don’t need to ask her. She can’t answer because she was married when she had children. She was younger. She doesn’t understand the burning desire I have now as I’m growing older. The fear I might have missed opportunities in my past, and the concern I might not have other chances in the future. I need to do things my way, which is this way.

“I’m keeping everything in perspective,” I say as if that’s an answer to her statement. Anna nods, opening her book once more, and I’m relieved our conversation is finished. I have much to think about, but for now, I close my eyes and let the sun heat my face.

I’m not certain how much time passes before I hear a male voice.

“How did you get him to do that?” The quiet question flips my lids open. Disoriented as I’d been dozing, I follow Zack’s gaze to his son on my lap. He’s still asleep against me.

“I don’t know,” I whisper, not wanting to wake him but finding my neck aches from the position I’ve been resting in.

“Let me take him,” Zack says as the other guys circle our messy setup on the beach. Chairs, coolers, and towels cover feet of the sand. Mason has a spike ball game in his hand, and Logan carries a football with a case of beer. Ben brings up the rear, looking exhausted.

“I’ve got him.” Leaning forward, I press a kiss to Oliver’s head. The little boy snuggles deeper into me.

“Well, I’m jealous,” Logan says, falling directly into the sand beside my seat. He stares off at the water as if he didn’t speak to me.

“Of what?” I mutter.

“A six-year-old,” he teases, glancing over his shoulder at the little boy resting against me. I’d ask about his day or their golf game, but a strange tension surrounds the guys, and I don’t want to trigger any conversations revolving around this morning. I just want to sit still and hold this boy.

“Spike ball. Who’s in?” Mason calls out, and Logan presses up off the sand at my silence. Anna glances over at me, noting Oliver still on my lap.

“It’s a nice look for you,” she says.

“What is?”

“A child on your lap and a man interested in you.” Tears prickle my eyes. It isn’t fair as neither the boy nor the man are mine.

+ + +

Coming out of my bedroom after dinner, I have a book in hand as a decoy. I’m hoping to head to the landing for some quiet after a busy afternoon and another chaotic meal. The guys seem restored to their old selves after a rousing game of spike ball on the beach and beers with burgers for dinner. Ben and Zack are taking all the younger kids into town for ice cream, giving Anna a break for a bit.

As I enter the hallway, Logan steps out of his room and crosses the hall to me.