Walk Through Fire (Chaos #4)(113)

“Low, that’s too much too soon for both of them,” I repeated, then included, “And it isn’t just about the sleeping arrangements.”

“I live in my RV outside Boz’s house,” he declared.

My chin jerked sideways at this insane news. “You do?”

“Since the split, been lookin’ at houses—seems I looked at hundreds of ’em. Wanna move and do it permanent. So it’s gotta be perfect for me and my girls,” he explained.

Oh man.

I had a feeling I knew what he was saying, that he intended to move in with me.

I had more than a feeling that it was way too soon too.

I wanted it to happen. I wanted forever with Logan.

But we had a lot of catching up to do, so I wasn’t sure about that starting now.

“You... I... ,” I stammered, not certain what to say.

“Now, havin’ you back, I’m not layin’ down a load of cake on a pad only for us to consolidate. And I’m guessin’, the way you are about your house, you’re not gonna wanna leave it.”

“No,” I said hesitantly, because I didn’t.

But it was mine. All mine. Inch by inch.

And it was a woman’s home.

Inch by inch.

And Logan was very much a man.

“Right,” he said. “So it’s big enough for all of us for a while. We’ll need to add on later. Another bedroom. Dining room ’cause can’t have decent Thanksgivings and birthdays sittin’ at a bar in a kitchen.”

My heart started beating fast and not in a good way at the thought of changing my space after I’d gotten it just how I wanted it.

I mean, I wanted Logan more than anything.

But living in a house under renovation sucked. I knew this all too well.

“Girls share a room,” he went on. “But Deb and me promised ’em, when they got to be teenagers, they’d get their own rooms. So we’ll need another one because I figure you’ll wanna have one for guests.”

“I... well, I think we need to discuss this at a time when I don’t have to get to work,” I evaded.

He nodded. “We can discuss this at a time when you don’t have to work and I don’t have to get on the road. But you meet the girls Friday. We have dinner together Friday. We go sleep at Boz’s Friday night. We spend the day together Saturday and Sunday. They sleep here Saturday and Sunday.”

I miraculously kept the panic out of my voice when I noted, “That’s like throwing them in a pool to learn how to swim.”

“You gonna be in my life?” he asked.

“Of course,” I answered.

“Then you’re gonna be in theirs. They gotta get used to it.”

I moved closer to him and gave him a squeeze. “That’s agreed. But I’m gonna be in your life, Logan, and theirs. So we have time.”

“Babe—”

I interrupted him. “Friday, dinner. Saturday doing something during the day. Saturday night, if you don’t want them to camp out in your RV anymore, I can go stay at Dot’s; you guys can stay here. Sunday, lunch or something. When do they go back to their mom?”

“Take them to school on Monday. They go back to her after school.”

They went to her after school on Monday?

He must get them back sometime during the week.

“Then Sunday night I’ll stay at Dot’s again,” I offered. “Or Justine’s. Or Kellie’s or something.”

“Not puttin’ you out of your own house and, Millie, the point still is they gotta get used to you.”

“Sleepover their third visit,” I haggled.

“Babe, that weekend will be a month away.”

That shocked me.

“A weekend?”

“Deb’s got near full custody,” he shared. “Girls are still young, but shit’s gonna start happenin’ soon with them that they’ll need their mom. Our deal was, two years of this, then we go half and half and nearly a year of that is done.”

“You only have weekends,” I stated, but it was a question.

“Every other weekend.”

He only had every other weekend?

Did courts decree that kind of thing anymore with dads?

And if they did, why didn’t he fight it?

However, it didn’t sound like there was a fight.

He said his “deal” with Deb was two years.

Had he agreed to this?

“Logan, that’s... I...”

I trailed off speaking because this wasn’t my place. They were his kids. It was his deal with his ex. He talked dispassionately about her and it seemed there was no acrimony.

I didn’t need to wade in and make any.

“You got somethin’ to say,” he remarked.

“No. I—”

I stopped talking when his arms gave me a squeeze.

“Millie, you got somethin’ to say, say it. Don’t hold back.”

I studied him.

Then I asked, “Are you... good with this arrangement?”

“Fuck no,” he answered. “But Deb never refuses when I ask for extra time but I still gotta do that shit, ask for extra time because I don’t have my girls.”