Infinite (5 page)

“Oliver and my mom are at the house.” Logan’s voice was monotone and empty, as if just being used to fill the void between us. “Traffic was finally cleared on the highway.”

“I can’t wait to see him. I always miss him when he goes to the city.” Logan said nothing, so I continued. “He’s probably devastated that the wedding’s over.”

“Yes.” Again, his reply was distant.

“Any idea what held them up?” I asked, turning casually in my seat to face him.

“Semi turned over.”

I opened my mouth to ask what he obviously already knew was coming, as he added, “No casualties.”

I smiled. “That’s good. Hope they weren’t hurt too bad.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Okay, something was definitely wrong—and there was no way it had to do with me needing time to answer, as he’d agreed we’d discuss it later. But I also knew Logan was far from patient.

I tried a different line of conversation. “The wedding turned out lovely. I think Hilary was happy with her decision.”

He scoffed, which was the first sign of emotion he’d surrendered since we’d gotten in the car. “
Her
decision?”

I made a face, but let him continue.

“I guess it works out well for everyone that she thought she had options, and chose the right one.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, a defensive bite in my tone. I was aware of Caleb’s overbearing ways—with the most loving intentions, of course—but Hilary always had options, and I didn’t appreciate the suggestion otherwise.

He looked to me, then back at the road. “Sweetheart, no way in hell was she or that baby ever leaving that hospital without Caleb’s last name. If Hilary’s happy, thinking she
decided
to do it for Caleb, that’s all the better. But don’t kid yourself into thinking any other outcome was a possibility.”

Oh, so he
did
mean exactly what I was hoping he didn’t.

I said nothing, stewing on the idea that Hilary would’ve had no real choice but to obey.

We drove the rest of the way in silence, me staring out the window until we arrived in the driveway. Once the car was parked and engine turned off, Logan shifted in his seat to face me, taking my chin and guiding me to look at him.

“I’m glad it worked out. Caleb deserves to know the woman he wants to love and protect for the rest of his life wants the same thing.” Something almost sad flashed in his eyes suddenly. “Now he does. And Hilary and Quinn deserve everything Caleb will enjoy giving them both. So I’m happy for all of them.”

“I am too, but let’s get one thing straight, she could’ve convinced him to wait, but maybe she realized she didn’t
want
to,” I insisted, my brows wrinkled and eyes cutting. “If not, she wouldn’t have agreed, and he’d have been forced to.”

Logan laughed, reaching up to run one hand along my cheek. “She’s happy, truly loved, and none the wiser that everything you just said isn’t absolutely true. So what’s the problem?”

I yanked my head back. “The
problem
is that you and Caleb are both so smug and macho!” I growled. “Like Hilary’s some lovesick robot that got tricked into choosing what Caleb wanted! Is that what you think of me, too?”

His features softened. “No, sweetheart. I just think it’s the man’s job to make sure his woman is so well loved, protected, and coveted that she makes decisions that will make her man equally as happy. That’s exactly what happened today. No one
tricked
anyone.”

Well all right, then, as long as we’re clear.
When put that way, who could argue? They say love is a give and take. But if neither partner realizes they’re giving or taking anything, that doesn’t mean it’s trickery or coercion—it means it’s effortless. And that’s exactly what love should be, always.

He leaned in, and his mouth was less than an inch from mine when he asked in a low murmur, “What are you thinking?”

“That you’re absolutely right.” My voice came out husky, laden with romantic musings.

“No tricks, sweetheart. Completely up to you. Do you
want
to marry me?”

I answered immediately and instinctually, with no doubts whatsoever and no fancy setups necessary. “Yes. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.”

“Are you sure?” He pulled back just enough to see my eyes fully, and I hoped he saw the love they held for him.

I nodded as one of his hands curled around the back of my neck. The other wrapped around my waist and pulled me to his hard, authoritative lips that crashed upon mine.

After our mouths broke apart, I managed through heavy breaths, “We’re really doing this.” I wasn’t asking. I was just waiting for it to sink in.

“You said yes. No takebacks, sweetheart.” He kissed me again, his tongue stroking mine.

“No takebacks?” I laughed. “Oliver teach you that?”

“He cocked a brow. “What do
you
think?”

My nose stroked over his and I whispered, “Oliver’s right. No takebacks—ever.”

Chapter 7

Hand in hand, we walked up the steps of Logan’s porch
—our
porch, he’d insisted—just past eight that evening. The construction on my grandparents’ home had been originally delayed due to winter weather earlier in the year, which gave Logan plenty of time to persuade me to hold off on those plans and keep the insurance money in the bank. Not that it took much; by the time the last snow pile had melted, I was on board. It just made sense, as hard as it was to admit.

Yes, I was well aware that was his way of keeping me with him permanently. And as much as I missed my grandparents’ home, a new house wouldn’t fix that. So instead, we had the old house completely removed, laid down sod, and started a massive garden as soon as spring really hit. We had rows of delicious vegetables that Oliver loved to help with, and lots of beautiful flowers scenting the air. And in the middle stood my treehouse, untouched by the fire.

“So, are we telling Oliver tonight?” I asked, my voice hopeful.

“You think I can see my son and
not
give him the best news of our lives?” He
gave a slight laugh before brushing his lips softly across mine and opening
the front door.

“No,” I replied with a short giggle.

“Daddy! Cassie!”

Oliver flew into the foyer and wrapped his arms around both our legs, squeezing us tightly.

Logan lifted him up into a giant hug as
Blythe, Logan’s mother, walked in from the kitchen, dish towel in hand.

“Hi,” I greeted her with a genuine smile, then looked at Oliver. “Hey lil’ man, I missed you. Can I have a hug t—?”

Before I had the question finished, Oliver had one arm thrown around me and was hanging like a spider monkey between us. “I missed you too!”

Logan let him down and we all headed to the living room, listening to Oliver tick off a long list of activities his grandma had occupied him with over the weekend.

“So you had fun?” Logan asked, laughing.

Oliver grunted. “Yes! Didn’t you hear me?”

We all laughed, watching Oliver control the room while we sat on the couch. Blythe sat in the chair across from us.

“Oh, and Grandpa surprised us with the best pizza ever last night! He even stayed and watched movies with us!”

Blythe’s smile faltered, and I couldn’t help the surge of sympathy I felt toward her. It was obvious she still loved her ex-husband. It was a shame, but some betrayals were too difficult to fully forgive.

Logan placed his hand on my knee and squeezed gently, snaring my wandering thoughts back to the moment.

“We have a surprise for you, son,” Logan said, a grin spreading across his face.

“What is it?” Oliver’s eyes grew wide as he stared up into his dad’s face from his spot on the carpet.

Logan looked questioningly to me, but I shook my head, telling him that he should be the one to make the announcement—not only to his son, but to his mother, who was still looking on silently.

“Cassandra and I are getting married next weekend.” My heart leapt at the words; hearing them from his mouth made it all so real. “What do you think about that?” Logan asked.

I heard Blythe’s gasp despite Oliver’s squealing, and somehow managed to dodge his elbow when Oliver jumped up on his dad’s lap for another hug. “Next week! Do I still get to be in your wedding? Does Scout?” He wiggled between us, his tiny body an unstoppable force, rocking around. “Grandma, did you hear? They’re getting married next
week
!”

We all laughed at his excited rambling.

“Congratulations to you both.” Blythe gave me a warm smile, then stood, as did Logan, who met her halfway for a long embrace. They exchanged hushed words before parting, and Blythe looked to me. “I’ve been wondering when a date would be set. And yes, it may be soon, but I’m more than happy to help with anything I can. I’m thrilled.”

“Thank you,” I told her.

She gave Logan another quick hug and pulled back, tears glistening in her eyes as she spoke directly to him. “Your father will be happy to hear this. You should call him later.”

“Of course, but tomorrow,” Logan replied with a nod.

“I’ve never been prouder. Seeing you raise your son alone for so long, I always worried you’d never find absolute happiness…and at times, it was unbearable to watch. I could see your pain, feel your anger, and it devastated me to know there was nothing I could do.”

Logan tilted his head slowly. “I know, Mom. But I couldn’t be happier now.”

She touched his cheek. “I know. You found your soulmate. Please don’t ever take that for granted.”

Logan peered back over his shoulder in my direction, catching me wiping away a lone tear. “Never.”

Oliver stepped between them. “Why are you crying, Grandma?”

Blythe lowered herself to his level and smiled. “Because my heart is happy.”

“Mine too!” he squealed.

“So, Oliver, you know what this means, don’t you?” Logan walked back toward the couch, sitting next to me and taking my hand.

Oliver whipped his head around and gave his father a confused look. Logan continued, “We’re getting married before Christmas. That means you have to clean the studio all week. Every paintbrush…by hand.” I caught the twitching in the corner of Logan’s lips.

Oliver drew out a long whine. “Aw, Daaad.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked as I turned toward Logan, who was now casting a loving smirk at his son. “Why does he have to clean your paintbrushes?”

“Why don’t you tell her, Oliver?”

“Daddy bet me you’d marry him before Christmas,” Oliver pouted, crossing his arms and lowering his chin to his chest. “Cassie, change your mind so I can get my new bike. Pleeease?”

“But then Cassie and I won’t be married,” Logan reminded him in a gentle but challenging tone.

We all watched as the young boy I’d come to love like my own pondered this, his mouth twisting and eyes looking up to the ceiling. “Never mind,” he said then, wearing a full smile. “I don’t need a bike!”

My heart burst with love, and the pride in both Logan’s and Blythe’s smiles was evident.

“Come here,” Logan said, opening his arms for Oliver. “You’re a good boy; caring and unselfish. And because you thought of others’ happiness first, I’m going to buy you the bike. But not until Christmas—and you still have to clean the paintbrushes,” he said with a laugh.

Oliver beamed. “Deal!”

“This is going to be so wonderful,” Blythe said, already across the room and grabbing her purse. “Have you told Julia yet? She’ll be excited to help, as well as Katherine.”

“I’ll tell everyone tonight,” Logan said, watching Oliver pull out a bag of Legos and spill them across the floor.

Blythe stood quietly for a long pause, then took a deep breath before adding, “Jax will be happy, too, if you can tell him. Or maybe you have a number where I can—”

“No, I don’t,” Logan muttered. He stood and exited the room, brusquely ending that line of conversation.

I knew it wasn’t my place, but I had to say something. Everyone blamed Blythe for keeping Jax’s birth a secret, but I respected her for it. She raised her husband’s lovechild as her own. If Logan didn’t have enough of his own anger toward Jax, I was sure he’d understand. But for the time being, it was something he refused to discuss.

Quietly, I moved across the room and stood beside Blythe, unable to bear the tears she was shedding silently.

“Jax is all right,” I whispered, placing a hand gently on her arm. “He sends Oliver postcards all the time. Logan doesn’t like it, but he allows Oliver to have them. Last one was about three weeks ago, from Seville.”

Her eyes widened slowly. “Spain?” she whispered back, obviously stunned he was abroad.

     I nodded. “He’ll come back as soon as he’s ready. I know it,” I said quietly.

Then, I sat down with Oliver and began helping him build the tallest, bluest Lego tower we could until it was time for bed.

Chapter 8

Monday found me overwhelmed, anticipation and urgency mixing into an unsettling combo. While I couldn’t wait to marry Logan, I was starting to doubt it could be pulled off in time.

I’d convinced myself it would be easy to take Caleb and Hilary’s wedding package as offered and make its pieces our own. And aside from a few changes, it was coming together nicely. But my head was still slipping into a weird place I couldn’t quite understand. Something was missing.

I needed a dress that felt right, and I wanted to change out Hilary’s flower arrangements to something more “me.” The easiest thing was swapping out locations, since getting married on their property didn’t hold sentimental value for us. I knew Logan would agree to say our vows on my grandparents’ land, and he readily did. After that, we called the band and caterers to fill them in and adjust the playlist and menu to better suit our tastes.

Then there were the invitations to send out, and since there weren’t too many on my side, it seemed easy—that is, until Blythe revealed Logan’s family tree. Luckily, she agreed to handle that task for me, assuring me she’d overnight the invitations after making some quick calls to give everyone a heads-up. So again, for the most part, it was coming together.