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This is freedom.
This is happiness.
This is what I’ve always wanted.
The screen door to Logan’s house flies open. Missy is hot on his heels as he stumbles down the steps while trying to get on his shoes. The look of pure horror on his face should worry me, but I know he saw the three of us out here like crazy people, and it takes all my strength to hold back the laugh.
“Missy!” the girls scream as they run toward their long-lost best-friend. The dog shakes the water from her fur, splashing them.
Logan’s eyes dart back and forth between me and the kids, and my heart swells when they’re the first he goes to. Eyes squinted, he kneels so he’s eye level with them.
“You girl’s get hurt? You were screaming.” He’s in nothing but jeans and a black T-shirt. The rain soaks through the material, sticking to every contoured muscle.
“No, silly. We’re playing in the rain.” Hannah stands with her arms by her side, the sleeves still a little long. We’re all in matching yellow raincoats, and now I understand the horror on his face when he came down those steps. We look like something straight from a scary movie.
He looks up at me, brows drawn tight. It’s similar to how he always looks at me. Like he’s trying to dig inside and see what I’m hiding. Like he’s doing his best to figure me out.
I bite my lips together, but a laugh bursts out of me. He looks far too serious for the fun we’re having.
I shrug. “We got bored.”
Is he mad?
Did we wake him from a nap?
Teasing, I pop my bottom lip. He’s not going to ruin our fun. “Was the poor burly man having a snooze?”
Isabel closes her eyes and pretends to snore while Hannah mirrors my stance. “Poor Loggie.” She pats his shoulder.
“Am I being ganged up on by a bunch of girls?” he feigns insult, scrunching his nose in disgust. Missy barks, and he’s not teasing anymore when he turns to her. “Traitor.”
Hannah crosses her arms over her chest, obviously offended and discovering her newfound feminism. “Girls are better anyway.”
“I’m outnumbered here so I’m not about to disagree with you.” Eyes scanning the three of us, they finally settle on me. “Burly, huh?”
I roll my eyes.
Just when I think he’s about to stand and go back inside, he spins back to the girls and grabs them in his arms. They scream bloody murder as he attacks them with tickles. They fight to escape but lose. “You three almost gave me a heart attack.”
“We’re sorry, we’re sorry,” Hannah gasps until he finally grants them sweet relief.
Isabel, my little grump, stomps her feet, not impressed by the attack. She hates tickles.
He glares back at her, but there’s a twitch at the corner of his mouth. It’s ridiculous. He’s still kneeling as the rain pours down with nothing protecting him from the elements. The drops drip from his hair, but if he notices, he doesn’t show it.
“You mad at me, Isabelly?”
He smiles at her. That full smile that always makes it hard to pull my eyes away.
Give the kid a break.
She shakes her head. “Yes, Loggie.” Then, with all her little mite, she swings her legs and kicks the excess water from the grass… right into his face.
I would correct her for it, but his face is priceless, and I end up standing there, biting my lip until it’s raw, not trusting myself to speak.
Bemused, his eyes find mine again.
It’s a warning.
