Moonlight on Nightingale Way (On Dublin Street 6)

“Dad, did you see?” Maia ran up to him after thanking everyone. She’d left her presents in the care of Beth, who had organized her brother to clean up the wrapping paper while she tidied the gifts into a neat pile.

“I did.” He smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners attractively. “Having fun so far?”

Eyes wide, she stared around at the room. “I’ve never had this many presents before, let alone a party.” She turned to me, eyes bright with excitement. “I got eighty pounds in gift vouchers for the bookshop.”

“Nice,” I said. “We’ll go tomorrow if you want.”

She nodded, looking dazed.

“You all right, sweetheart?” Logan said.

“I just don’t know what to do next.”

“I’ve got something.” He disappeared behind the table and brought up his present.

I grinned as Maia opened her mouth in surprise. “Another one?”

“From me.” He gestured her over. “Open it.”

“There’s another present!” Beth yelled at everyone, drawing attention back to the table.

“Horsey!” Belle, Jo and Cam’s daughter, cried out excitedly, running for the table.

Beth eyed the rectangular-shaped parcel and then Belle, this time dubiously. She shot a look at Jo, as if to say, What are you teaching your child?

I had to wipe the tears from my eyes, I was laughing so hard.

Jo narrowed her eyes on Beth. “She’s just going through a horse phase.” She turned back to look at Joss and mouthed, Smart-arse.

Joss just grinned.

“What is it?” Maia said, and I turned back to her. I wanted to see her expression when she opened it.

“Open it and find out.”

Carefully, Maia tore open the paper and turned the box around so she could read the front. Her jaw literally dropped at the sight of the laptop.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” Logan said softly.

She immediately burst into tears.

His eyes flew to me.

Good tears. Good tears, I mouthed, waving my hands at him frantically.

He rounded the table at my direction and pulled her into his arms.

“I think it’s cake time,” Elodie announced, her years of experience as a mother shining through as she deftly drew attention away from Maia while she composed herself. “Let’s go, kids. Let’s get the cake for Maia.” They followed her, chattering at her the whole time, and I marveled at the way she could take in everything and have multiple conversations at once.

I stepped forward toward Maia and Logan, and I was only about a foot away when Logan reached out an arm and jerked me into the huddle. They both wrapped an arm around me and I held on tight to them.

“You’re going to make me cry now,” I whispered over the lump of emotion gathering in my throat.

“Good. That will make me feel like less of an idiot.” Maia sniffled.

Logan and I pulled back, and I cupped her tear-streaked face. “You are not an idiot. You’re a sweetheart.”

She wiped her face and gazed up at her dad as if he were a hero come to life. “Thanks for the laptop, Dad.”

Wetness shimmered in his eyes, and he could only nod.

My fingers curled into his T-shirt, and I fought hard not to cry at the sight of his emotion.

“Maia, why don’t you go show Beth the laptop,” I suggested softly, realizing Logan needed a minute.

Maia seemed to realize that, too, and did as I asked.

In turn I took Logan’s hand, led him out of the room and into Gio’s office. “Are you okay?”

In answer he pulled me into his arms and just held on tight.

We stood there for a while not saying a word.

“You’re mine,” he suddenly whispered.

I stilled. “What?”

Logan drew back just far enough so he could cup my face in his hands. “Did you consider going out with Maia’s history teacher?”

Surprised by the sudden turn in conversation, I shook my head. “Aidan is just being an arse.”

“Did you?”

“Logan —”

“You’re mine,” he said, his words fierce. “I’m yours. I’ll never let anything or anyone come between that.”

I shivered at the sweet possessiveness in the words and clung to him tighter. “I don’t want anyone else but you.”

He closed his eyes as if in relief and leaned his forehead against mine.

The silence wrapped around us, this time only emphasizing our closeness, our connection, and the wordless promises we made to each other.

CHAPTER 25

It was one of those perfect mornings. Not too hot, but the sunlight was pouring in through the window. Earlier I’d woken up in my boyfriend’s bed after a night of sweet lovemaking. We’d had breakfast with Maia and then she’d gone off to the YA summer program at the library and Logan had left for work.

I’d returned to my flat, where I was working on Joss’s new manuscript and eating leftover croissants from yesterday’s trip to my favorite bakery. For the first time ever, I was able to throw off my inner angst over… well… everything… and I was just enjoying my work and life.

I should have known it would all go to hell.

The knock at the door was the signal of the start of it.

The man standing on my doorstep was the “hell” part.

“Father,” I said softly, shocked by the surrealism of him standing on my small but clean landing.

Gabriel Bentley stood there in a crisp white – most probably designer – shirt, lightweight leather jacket, and dark trousers. He was shiny and clean from the top of his perfectly combed hair to the gleaming black Italian loafers on his feet.