Logan’s face darkened. “Amy—”
“He knows he did wrong.” She touched her lips to Jayden’s shiny hair. “Don’t you, Jayden?”
“Y-yes, ma’am,” he choked out. He squeezed her waist and buried his face in her sweater again. “I’m s-sorry. I just wanted to...”
His voice turned small and trailed away.
“To help.” Amy smiled gently and peered into Logan’s angry eyes. “You just wanted to help Thunder be happy. Right?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jayden whispered. He glanced up at Logan and scrubbed the heel of his hand over his cheek. “I just wanted to help, Uncle Logan.”
“He’s learned his lesson,” Amy stressed.
Logan’s mouth flattened into a hard line. His dark eyes moved from Jayden’s face to Amy’s and back again. She held his stare, determined to win this one. Logan shifted restlessly and shoved his hands in his pockets.
“When I give you a rule, Jayden,” he said, “I expect you to obey it from now on. Otherwise, I can’t trust you.”
“Yes, sir,” Jayden whispered.
Logan bent, cupped Jayden’s head with a broad hand and kissed his forehead. He opened the door and held it, gesturing toward the warmth emanating from inside the house.
“Put him to bed, Amy.” Logan glanced at her side and frowned. “Then come to the bathroom and let me change that bandage.”
She raised a brow and nudged Jayden. “Your uncle Logan’s kind of bossy. I don’t think he knows the magic word.”
Jayden smiled. He whispered, “It’s please, Uncle Logan.”
Logan’s mouth twitched. Those beautiful eyes of his lifted and locked on hers. “Please,” he said, voice husky.
Amy’s belly warmed. She ducked her head and slipped past him into the house. She was as much a sucker as he was.
Amy led Jayden to his bedroom, helped him and Kayden wash their faces and brush their teeth, then tucked them into bed. Kayden returned her good-night kiss, snuggled into his pillow and watched with interest as Amy sat on the edge of Jayden’s mattress, smoothing her fingers through his blond hair.
“What you did today was wrong, Jayden,” she said. “No matter how much you think you were doing right.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Jayden hiccupped. “I won’t never do it again.”
“Promise?” Amy narrowed her eyes.
“Promise.”
“He deserves a butt whoopin’,” Kayden proclaimed. “Can I give it to him?”
Amy forced back a smile and cast Kayden a stern look. He shrugged and turned over to face the wall, dragging the covers up over his shoulder.
“Are you gonna give me a spanking, Aunt Amy?” Jayden asked. His blue eyes widened, engulfing his face.
She smiled and ran a finger over his forehead, tucking back a blond curl. “No. I think you’ve learned your lesson, don’t you?”
He nodded, expression earnest.
“Okay.” Amy stood. “I want you both to close your eyes and go to sleep. That way you’ll be well rested and ready to deliver a good apology to Uncle Dominic and Aunt Cissy in the morning.”
She crossed the room and flicked off the light, tugging on the doorknob as she stepped into the hallway.
“Aunt Amy?” Kayden poked his chin above the covers. “Can you leave the door cracked so we can hear when Aunt Cissy gets home?”
“Of course,” she whispered. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison.
Amy released the doorknob, allowing a slant of light to pierce the dark quiet of the room. She took a few steps down the hall but paused when the rustling of bedsheets sounded.
“I’m glad we got two aunts now.” Jayden’s hushed voice carried into the hallway. “They’re better than a mama any day.”
A bed creaked.
“Yep. Aunt Amy’s cool,” Kayden said. “But you’re lucky she didn’t give you a butt whoopin’. A mama woulda burned your tail up.”
Jayden sighed. “Yeah, pro’ly. We’d both have us a thousand butt whoopins by now.”
It was silent for a moment.
“Maybe,” Kayden whispered. “But we ain’t got one yet.”
A burst of muffled giggles rang out. Amy grinned, covering her mouth to silence her laughter and cradling her side at the sharp sting running through the cut. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
The moment was so familiar. Full of laughter coming from little ones tucked in their beds. She’d imagined it a million times when she’d been pregnant with Sara. And, had her luck been as good back then as it had been for Cissy earlier, the laughter would be coming from her children. Hers and Logan’s. Safe in their beds. Loved and protected.
She’d been so sure back then that she could’ve made Logan happy. Could’ve won him over, earning a loving husband and strong family. But she’d gone about it the wrong way and ended up losing everything.
Amy sighed. All that was in the past. It was just a teenage crush she’d worked hard to overcome. She’d gotten over her unrealistic hero worship of Logan. She wasn’t that desperate girl begging for his attention any more. She was moving on.
She made her way to their old bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was exactly as she remembered. The small fireplace on the far wall was still charming and the deep polish of the cherry furniture shone as bright as ever. Her purse sat on the dresser and her overnight bags were lined up against the wall by the wide, king-sized bed.
Amy rubbed her hands over her arms and crossed to the dresser. She rifled through the contents of her purse, pulling out the crumpled divorce agreement and smoothing the creases.
The bathroom door opened and Logan exited, his bare feet whispering over the carpet as he crossed the room. He reached out, plucked the papers from her and flicked them down on the dresser.
“Come on.” His strong hand wrapped gently around her elbow, tugging her to the bathroom.
He’d discarded his shirt and the thick muscles of his bare back tightened with each of his movements. Amy swallowed hard. It was a physical reaction. Nothing more. She tried to convince herself she’d have the same response to any other well-built man she came across.
Logan stopped in front of the sink. He sifted through the medicine cabinet, retrieving alcohol wipes, fresh gauze and tape.
Amy flicked her eyes around the bathroom, trying to focus on anything other than the broad expanse of his chest. A sprinkling of dark hair arrowed down his abs toward unsnapped jeans hanging low on his lean hips.
Logan’s tanned hands gathered the hem of her sweater.
“I can do this myself,” she said, stilling his thick wrists.
“You can’t reach it properly.”
“Yes, I can. Clear out and I’ll take care of it.”
“Amy, it’s been a hell of a day. Just let me do this and let’s get some decent sleep. In a bed, this time.” He raised a brow and flashed a crooked grin. “Please.”
Her body sagged, his gentle expression melting her defenses. She raised her arms, squeezing her eyes shut as he lifted the sweater over her head and dropped it to the tiled floor.
“I