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He took back control.
‘It isn’t a date, Kat.’ He didn’t know if he was reminding her or himself.
Still, he wasn’t prepared for her to narrow her eyes at him and fold her arms over her chest.
Presumably she didn’t know how it emphasised those perfect, soft breasts of hers.
‘Rules, Logan,’ she insisted.
He was irritated and intrigued all at once.
‘What kind of rules?’
‘It’s an outing with your son. It’s not a date. There will be nothing like what happened last night.’
‘Suits me,’ he agreed without a second thought.
And yet the moment the words were out, he hated the very sound of them. He shouldn’t. It made sense.
‘Listen, Kat, Jamie and I will be at the park rink from three p.m. Do you want to give me your address or will we just see you there?’
She bit her lip, clearly torn between wanting to join them and the same caution after the previous night. But then she lifted her eyes to his and he could have sworn something crackled through the space between them.
‘Fine.’ She nodded slowly, as if she couldn’t help herself even though it went against all her instincts. ‘I’ll meet you there.’
* * *
Kat stared at the bustling ice rink and told herself that she didn’t know why she’d agreed to come.
Only it wasn’t true.
She knew exactly why she’d agreed to come. Logan Connors. He had such an effect on her that she was doing all the things she’d thought she wouldn’t be doing this year. Not now that Carrie was no longer in her life.
She’d been dreading Christmas. Dreading the sight of the trees, which she’d imagined going to see with Carrie, dreading the festive songs that she’d envisioned teaching the little girl, and most of all dreading Christmas Day. Alone.
She’d come to Seattle to be as far away as possible from her old home and memories of the little girl she’d raised from a baby to four years old. She’d imagined retreating into herself for a while, and throwing herself into work whilst she took time to heal.
She hadn’t imagined bauble shopping, Christmas tree judging, and ice skating in the park.
She certainly hadn’t imaged riding Logan’s hand, as she had done last night, until she’d splintered apart in a way she hadn’t even realised was possible before. Or how, unless she was kept busy and distracted, she’d spent every moment of her shift today watching him move around the ward, fantasising about him playing with her like that again.
As though she was his to pick up and put down at will.
Then again, when he was the only man who had touched her like that—with such skill—was it any wonder?
The memory of it wrapped itself around her, dragging her back to the edge of madness. And she still couldn’t bring herself to regret it. Or even to regret meeting him.
Logan—and Jamie—had bounced into her life when she’d needed them most. They lifted her, and made her feel part of something again. There was only one problem with that. What was she supposed to do when they were no longer there?
She didn’t want to think about it.
‘Kat!’
Spinning around, Kat laughed as Jamie darted up to her. She scooped him into her arms and hugged him tightly.
‘Hello, sweetheart, did you have a good day at the crèche?’
‘It was great,’ Jamie told her enthusiastically. ‘I made a new friend. Tommy.’
