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“It’s fine. Probably better you weren’t here.”
He pulled back and lifted his eyebrow. “And why is that?”
“Because I did some redecorating.”
“Oh. Glad I wasn’t here.”
She dug her finger into his side. “You’ll like this one.”
“That’s what you always say.” He squeezed her infinitely perfect ass. “Is she asleep?”
“Yeah, I put her down—”
The baby monitor crackled to life and a happy screech filled the kitchen.
“Or…not. Looks like she knew her daddy was home. Why don’t you go get her?”
Logan dragged Izzy in for another kiss, then rounded the corner to the stairs and took them two at a time. Marriage and a kid were the last things he’d thought he would have, but now he couldn’t imagine another life.
He moved down the hall to the white door with purple lettering. The filigreed letters were probably hand-painted by Izzy. She was forever fussing with their little girl’s room. Nichole King was probably the single most spoiled little girl in Winchester Falls.
He opened the door to see her standing in the crib. “Look at you. Standing up so tall now. Have you tried to vault out of the crib yet?”
Fiona jumped up and spun around with a playful bark. “Hi, Fi. Guarding my baby girl?”
She wagged her tail and tipped her head in that way that always made him think she knew exactly what he was talking about somehow. He stroked behind her silky ears. “Good girl.”
Huge green eyes danced as his perfect kid bounced in time to her own tune, the fingers of one hand grasping for him. Her chubby little hand went right for his beard and tugged. He winced. “That’s my Nicki. How’s my baby girl?”
Her gurgling coo of words that probably meant the world to her made him smile. In the midst of it was something he thought might be Z and a flurry of baby spit ending in, “Mama.”
Logan lifted her up and rubbed his bearded chin against her belly until she squealed out a laugh. When he swung her around in a helicopter spin, she gave another delighted laugh and he came to a full stop.
In the corner of the room was a piano.
Nicki curled into his chest and her little fingers twisted into the collar of his shirt as she settled in against him. She reached her hand out and Logan moved toward the battered upright. New legs had been added to even it out, and another bench sat in front. This one had a wild mishmash of purples and pinks stained into the wood.
The original wood.
“God, I love that woman.” He sat at the piano and lifted the cover. The same old keys glowed under the old wood. The upright piano from the lodge in Maine with all the missing keys.
The lonely and battered piano that had called to him in his darkest days.
Now it was in their place.
In the happiest part of their home.
And the missing keys had been replaced with more purple.
He gathered Nichole close to his chest and stroked his fingers over the keys. The sweetest tones filled his daughter’s room. She settled herself tighter into him as he played the song for her mother, and for her.
The instrumental piece that he’d added to a hidden track on All the King’s Men’s last album. People thought he was going soft and he really didn’t give a shit.
If going soft meant he had a life this full, he’d take it every damn day.
“I see you found my surprise.”
He turned his head toward the doorway. “I don’t know how you did it, but it’s amazing.” Logan patted the empty spot on the bench beside him. “Have a seat, Miracle Mama.”
