“Enough, Jackson!” Logan sneered, his hands balled into fist on the table.

I took a bite of the most amazing mushroom risotto I’d ever tasted, and smiled across the table. “So, what do you do, Jax?” I asked, trying to diffuse the tension building between them. With another bite, a small moan slip passed my lips. Logan could really cook.

“I travel. I enjoy meeting new people, new women, and showing them a good time.” Definitely related to Logan. I nodded, unimpressed and placed the fork full of risotto back in my mouth, savoring the taste.

He continued. “There’s not much else at the moment to do with my time.”

“You could try finding a job,” Logan said, irritated. “Or perhaps join our sister in college.”

Jax took a swig of the soda in front of him and grinned wickedly in my direction. My mind was still too wrapped up in the delightfulness in my mouth to care much about his smoldering expressions.

“College is no place for me, unless it’s at the co-ed parties. As for a job, I’m planning on talking my big brother here into employing me at his little paper in town.”

I raised my eyebrows, mouth stuffed with food.

“Lawrence and Father both turned you down at the head office, I take it?” Logan grumbled.

“No, I just thought I might want to see what this small town has to offer for a while.” He looked me up and down in my chair, and gave me an approving smirk. “Judging by the gorgeous woman sitting across from me, there seems to be a lot to be offered here.”

And like earlier, I heard the faint growl coming from Logan, but I simply ignored both men, losing myself in the meal Logan had so wonderfully prepared.

Oliver rejoined us and the table talk turned to tree houses, movies, and books. Turns out Logan not only cooked like a chef and painted like a master, but he also enjoyed reading classic literature. Today was full of one surprise after another.

We finished our meal and I stood to help clear the table but Logan’s hand covered mine, removing the plate from my grasp.

“I have someone to take care of those, sweetheart. Oliver, what do you say we show Cassandra the library?”

I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face at the idea of a library. Just the word made me feel giddy.

“And on that note, I’m out.” Jax stood up and slipped around the table, stopping behind me. I turned to face him while Logan stood watching warily. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Cassandra. Piece of advice,” he leaned in closer to my ear, “keep those panties of yours on if you ever want another invite to dinner around here.”

With that, he shot Logan a smug grin, and said a quick good-bye to Oliver. I stood there, stunned and slightly embarrassed. Logan had one hell of a reputation among his siblings.

“What did he say?” Logan asked as we walked out of the room following behind Oliver.

“Nothing important.” I shrugged, offering a half smile but his expression was clear, he didn’t believe me.

Entering the room behind Oliver I was left flabbergasted. The man had an actual library in his home. No wonder he had so many moving trucks here that first week.

“This is…wow!” I giggled, grabbing a book sitting on a small round table by one of the four armchairs in the room. A large upholstered coffee table rested in the middle and Oliver climbed up, lying on his stomach. He rested his chin in his hands, and stared up at me.

“Daddy makes me read a lot.” He sighed, his feet swinging in the air.

I smiled, looking up from the book, Treasure Island, in my hand. “How horrible of him!” I scrunched up my nose.

He chuckled. Logan sat across from him in a chair, watching me.

“We just started that one the other night. We take turns reading a page,” Logan explained, smiling proudly at his son. “His reading is on a third grade level.”

I smiled back, and placed the book down, impressed. Perusing the shelves a yawn spilled from my lips, and I looked over at the clock on the table, it read eight fifteen.

“I should get going.” I turned to face Logan.

He stood, as did Oliver, and walked me to the door.

“Thanks for dinner,” I said. I ran my hand over Oliver’s mop of dirty-blond waves.

“You can come every night,” Oliver replied with his bright smile, lighting his sleepy eyes.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“He’s a bit forward, but I happen to agree. Any time you want some company, let me know,” Logan said.

I wasn’t sure if I should read into the double meaning, so I simply nodded, and walked out the front door feeling great about our new friendship.

It was later that week when I went outside to watch the sunset that I heard Oliver singing and knew exactly where he was at. I smiled, walking to the tree house and climbing the freshly repaired ladder. With each step up, I was grateful the repairmen only fixed it up and didn’t replace it. There were too many memories attached to it.

When my hands rested on the floor of the tree house, I looked up, preparing to say hello and froze. Oliver wasn’t alone.

“Hello, sweetheart.” Logan smiled. “I have to tell you, this is exactly as I imagined it in here.”

He looked enormous in the cramped space, but in the center of the room—where the roof peaked—he could almost stand up straight.

“Thanks,” I said when Logan reached down and held out his hand and pulled me up.

There wasn’t a lot of room, which left me nearly on top of his feet as we stood staring at Oliver. My breath caught when his hand brushed against my bare knee. My cutoff shorts rested mid-thigh. I backed up a step, narrowing my eyes down at his hand.

He chuckled, knowing what I was thinking.

“Look what Daddy made!” Oliver held out a wood frame and I took it, sucking in a deep breath when I saw the sketch inside.

It was of Oliver and me in my backyard. I was standing over him while he squatted down with a box in his hand at the edge of the tree line. My gaze shot up at Logan.

“You saw us?” I said, surprised.

He nodded, carefully watching me. The sketch was from the first day I met Oliver—when he released the little critter.

“Daddy said it was a good thing you were there to help me save the mouse. He’s with his family now.”

I looked over at Oliver who had taken a seat at the small table. He snatched a piece of construction paper and the tin of crayons. I smiled. He was at home here.

“This is…amazing. I should go get a hammer and nail.”

“Already ahead of you, sweetheart. Here.” Logan took the framed sketch from my hand our fingers brushed together awakening forbidden sensations. The moment his eyes met mine, my breath caught. I could see it on his face; he felt it just the same but he stepped away, turning his attention to the nail already on the wall in front of Oliver at the tiny table.

“Perfect,” I whispered.

Logan turned back to me, picking up his hammer. “Well, I have some work to get done. I should be going,” he said.

I moved to allow him access to the ladder, but he halted his steps, and looked over at me.

“I’ll send you a text later with a few more listings for Julia. Let me know if you think they’re worth checking out.”

“All right.” I nodded.