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Logan joins me. We’re both dripping wet, but neither of us seems to care. We share a smile and remain in a comfortable silence as we watch Hannah and Isabel having the time of their lives in the rain. We’re sitting so close, our arms brush, and the heat from his body is enough to send goose bumps prickling along my flesh.
Five minutes later, the rain takes a brief respite, and a rainbow creeps out from behind the clouds.
“A rainbow! Mom, Logan, look!” Hannah points to the sky.
“I see it. It’s beautiful.”
There's a moment of silence before Logan speaks up. “You’re doing good with those two.”
I look over at him, the unexpected compliment making the back of my eyes sting. His gaze remains on the kids with a warm smile.
“Thanks. That means a lot.”
It means the world.
I wonder every day if I’m doing enough. If our past has followed us. If it haunts us enough to affect our future. I worry about every decision. I worry if they get too much screen time, should they be eating more vegetables, will Hannah need braces, do they see me cry or believe me when I say I don’t need as much sleep as everyone because like I said, moms have superpowers. I feel guilty on the days I lock myself in my room for just five minutes to breathe.
So hearing Logan say what he said makes a crack I didn’t know I had fill in my chest.
I don’t need recognition for being a mom. It’s my job, and I love every minute, even the bad ones. But it’s still good to hear it.
As if reading my thoughts, he squeezes my knee.
My chest tightens. In my best attempt to deflect from the tears threatening to fall, I say, “No more tickle attacks, or I’ll set Isabel loose on you.”
He barks a laugh. “She’s feisty.” He arches a brow. “I wonder where she gets it from?”
I point to my chest. “Me? You think she gets it from me? That kid does not get her attitude from me. I swear she was programmed with it from the day she was born.”
His eyes linger on me.
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I guess I was pretty feisty.”
“Not was.”
I scrunch my nose. I’m practically fishing for compliments at this stage, but a girl’s got to get them somewhere. “You think I still got it?”
His eyes turn to nothing but molten as they skim me head to foot and back again.
“You’ve still got it, pretty girl.”
I feel the tips of my ears get hot before I clear my throat and stand. I’m not sure if it’s to distract myself or him, but anything to ease the sudden throb between my legs. When he chuckles, I realize he knows exactly what I’m doing.
My reaction to him is no different than it was ten years ago. And he’s criminally gorgeous. He knows exactly what he does to women. It’s an unfair playing field.
“Girls, we gotta get changed.” The sky is turning darker, making it feel more like late evening than afternoon. Thankfully, they both come without me having to bribe them. Missy rubs her head against my thigh until I pet her.
“Thanks for playing with us, Logan,” Hannah says, wrapping her arms around his waist. It shocks us both. His eyes almost pop out of his head as they meet mine.
I want to curl up in a ball and cry.
She doesn’t do that with anyone.
Not one to be left out, Isabel wraps her chubby hands around his leg.
His panic says he’s worried about my reaction to this, like he’s seeking permission to hug them back. I smile and dip my chin. With a harsh exhale, he kneels and wraps them up, and fuck if it doesn’t make my blood gush hotter.
Ruffling his hands through their hair playfully, he says, “You girls have made this place brighter. Even in a storm.” His final look is aimed towards me. My smile falters.
