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What the hell had he been thinking?
Had he really been kissing—no, necking like a teenage schoolboy—with a woman he’d only just met? About to have sex with her—because there was no denying that had been where they’d been headed—right there in the apartment? All this, when his son lay asleep just down the hall?
Not that Jamie could have stumbled on them, of course. For a start, he had installed a baby gate just by a short flight of five stairs, in case his son woke in the night and came looking for him, only to turn the wrong way in the unfamiliar apartment when he came out of his room.
Nonetheless, it was wholly, unequivocally unacceptable.
‘This should never have happened,’ he ground out, furious with himself.
‘Logan—’ she began, but he cut her off.
He couldn’t listen. And the worst of it was that it was less about not wanting to hear what she had to say and more about the fact that he feared she would convince him to carry on.
He wanted her to say something to convince him to carry on. Instead, he tore himself away from her, hoping that the loss of contact might, somehow, break the spell.
It didn’t. Which made it all the more imperative that he walk away. Now.
‘I need to go and attend to my son. I suggest you let yourself out.’
CHAPTER FIVE
‘UGH. YUCK.’
Logan stared at his son with something approaching amused despair as the little boy pulled a disgusted face at their latest baking attempt, setting it back on his brand new, glittery Christmas plate and sticking his tongue out. The evidence suggested that they were nothing like the cookies Logan’s Nana had baked them all for Thanksgiving.
‘I warned you that I had no idea how to bake cookies, champ.’
‘Yuck, yuck, yuck,’ repeated Jamie, taking a generous gulp of milk from his plastic cup.
‘They aren’t that bad.’ Logan laughed, taking a bite of his own then pulling a face that he imagined to be pretty close to the one his son had made. ‘Okay, they are. I’ll ask Nana.’
‘Kat,’ Jamie said firmly.
‘Sorry, Champ, I’m not asking Kat.’ He gritted his teeth, determined not to let Jamie see.
It had been days since that night in the apartment and still, if he turned quickly, he could imagine he could catch a scent of her perfume, he could swear he could taste her on his tongue, and he wanted more. So much more.
It was crazy, but there it was. Which was why he’d spend the past couple of days putting such much-needed distance between himself and the too-enticing ER nurse.
She affected him too much. Made him forget who, and where, he was. If he was going to be honest, then she had been getting to him ever since that first time in the hospital when he’d felt her hands on his body, and he’d been turned on for the first time in a long time.
The last person to get under his skin like this had been Sophia—and look where that had led. Not that he could ever regret his beautiful, sweet son.
‘Shall we put up the tree tonight, Jamie?’ Logan lifted the tray and tipped the unappetising—all right, disgusting—cookies into the bin. ‘It’s the first of December tomorrow.’
‘Yes.’ Jamie clapped his hands in delight. ‘Can Kat help?’
‘No Kat,’ he answered firmly.
God, his son was relentless.
Admittedly, it wasn’t as though he’d been able to stop thinking about her either—or their kiss. It irked Logan that she’d even appeared in his dreams, although in those they hadn’t stopped at merely kissing. In those she had been spread out in his bed, like his own personal feast, or clinging to him, moaning in abandon as he’d buried himself inside her.
Even now, he had to shake his head as if that could rid it of the unwanted thoughts.
But what really bothered him, above everything else, was the way Jamie seemed to have taken to her so fast.
The kid had met her twice, and yet Kat currently dominated his conversations. Even his grandparents had heard all about Angel Kat, and Logan didn’t care much for the encouraging comments they’d tried not to make.
