She felt Logan’s full attention swing onto her.

She didn’t mention this had all happened shortly after she’d seen him at Glenda’s wedding four years ago, when she had recognized two things: that she didn’t love Nolan and that she still reacted strongly to Logan Fraser—fueled by dislike, she assured herself.

“He didn’t want to join you two here?”

“I didn’t ask him to. I sent him money for back rent, which was the reason for his call, and told him I already had a child to look after. If he wanted us to be a couple, I needed him to be an adult. He showed up a few weeks later, expecting to move in with us, but Gramps said his stuff had to stay on the lawn unless he started paying support and rent.”

“Art doesn’t mince words, does he?” Logan grinned.

“Where do you think I get it from? I wound up telling Nolan he didn’t have to pay support if he let me have primary custody. He loves Biyen. I’ve never doubted that, but having a child is more responsibility than he ever planned to shoulder. We have an arrangement that works for us. Once or twice a year, usually around Christmas and Easter, I go see your mom in Port Hardy. Nolan’s mom lives there so Biyen spends time with his family, and I get my Glenda fix. Through the rest of the year, Nolan comes here and either sleeps on a friend’s couch while he hangs out with Biyen during the day or he takes him camping, which they both love.” Sophie hated camping so it was a win-win all around.

“And he’s—” Logan cut himself off, mouth going flat.

“What?”

“I don’t want to piss you off as we’re going into the party.” He lifted his chin toward the house where the lively voices of the kids were already carrying from the back lawn.

She halted and so did he. The suspicion in his eyes told her what he wanted to ask. She sighed.

“Nolan is definitely Biyen’s father.” She tried not to be defensive or angry or wistful, even though she had hoped back then, with a heart-wrenching type of despair, that her baby had been conceived with Logan. “Nolan asked for a paternity test. Biyen is definitely his.” Why else would she let him have so much access?

Did Logan flinch? It was hard to tell. He turned away, nodding, carrying on to circle around the house, wordless.

She absently rubbed at the scored sensation between her breasts, already regretting saying as much as she had. Did he think her pathetic? Slutty? Even Nolan had doubted he was Biyen’s father, which said everything about how she had been behaving at the time.

Voices rose in greeting as they appeared. Sophie found a smile and did her best to shed whatever leftover desire she had for Logan Fraser’s good opinion of her. It had never served her well and she needed it even less now.

Chapter Four

“How are your drinks?” Logan checked in with Art and Emma’s mother, Delta. They were seated in lawn chairs, watching the children throw hoops at pegs.

“Would you put water in this for me, please, Logan?” Delta handed him her empty wine glass. “I’ll be asleep before dinner if I have more wine.”

She was an older version of Emma, a little plumper, a little more formally dressed, with a distinctively stronger New Zealander accent.

He filled her glass with ice water and fetched himself a beer from the downstairs fridge, bringing one for Sophie who was too busy playing with the children to take it. He brought it up to where Reid stood at the barbecue on the deck off the kitchen.

“Thanks.” Reid drained the one in his hand and cracked the new one.

“Tough day?”

“No, it’s fu—Freaking hot standing here.” He sent a glance to the kids below, but they were too wound up with excitement to hear his almost curse.

“Where’s Em?” Logan looked toward the kitchen.

“Changing Storm.”

“She calmed down yet?”

“Still pretty clingy.”

“Which one are we talking about?”

“Yup.” The corner of Reid’s mouth kicked up in affection as he took another gulp of beer.

It was hard to tell who had missed whom the most. Storm had been cranky the last few days, fully aware that her favorite human was absent. Reid had been, too.

Logan had brought the baby down to the wharf when the seabus from Bella Bella had come into the cove a couple of hours ago, joining Reid who had poorly disguised his eagerness to see his wife and meet her family.

Reid had restrained himself to a kiss, but the moment Storm saw Emma, she had burst into tears. Emma had done the same as she gathered up her defacto daughter and kissed her cheeks as though she planned to eat her for lunch.

“Oh, moppet, I missed you, too,” Emma had sniffled as she rubbed the baby’s back. “I’m sorry I left. Meet your nana and cousins.”

Storm had clung to Emma’s neck, refusing to look at new people. She had only picked up her head once to give Emma the most hilarious scold of a sad face before hugging her again.

Since Reid was busy trying to make a good impression on his new mother-in-law, Logan took control of the luggage, getting everything into the company vehicle. He let Reid drive Emma and her mother up to the house with Storm while he walked the two kids up the drive. They were a riot, speaking in their broad Kiwi accents.

“You guys sound just like your Auntie Em, you know that?”

“Auntie Em sounds funny,” Imogen assured him. “More like you.”

Delta seemed pleasant enough, if given to tensing her upper lip in judgment while she took in the home her daughter had chosen over returning to New Zealand.

It was a hell of a lot nicer than it had been when Logan and his brothers had arrived in April, Logan wanted to tell her. Between them, they’d put in a new kitchen, refinished, refloored, repainted, and repaired everything that needed it, not necessarily in that order. They’d knocked out the trees impeding the view and got the moss off the roof and out of the cracks between the tiles on the patio where Delta currently sat.

They’d done all of that believing they would sell this house along with the resort. Then, for Storm’s sake, Reid and Emma had decided to marry and stay here until the adoption went through. Since they all considered it Storm’s home, Logan and Trystan endorsed their living here.

It would have eventually worked out, providing Storm exactly the same strong financial start that Wilf had given his sons, but this news about Tiffany’s sister had thrown everything into flux. He wished they could at least learn her intentions. The uncertainty was stressful for all of them.

“Hey, you’re back.” Emma came out with Storm on her hip, placemats in her other hand. “Can you take her while I set the table?”

Storm turned her face away from him when he reached for her and snuggled tighter into Emma.

“I guess I’m setting the table,” Logan said wryly as he took the placemats. “You go visit with your family.”

“Thanks.” She seemed to hesitate briefly, expression pensive, then went down the stairs where she pulled up a chair near Art and her mother.

“Problem?” Logan asked Reid in a low voice.

“Her mother is being weird about the adoption,” Reid said under his breath. “Didn’t appreciate being called Storm’s ‘nana.’”

“Oh Christ. Can’t her family let her be happy?”

Reid’s brows lifted in a silent amen.

Emma was enjoying her niece and nephew, though. The next time Logan came outside, Storm was in Sophie’s arms—the little traitor—while Emma played tag with the kids, laughing it up.

“Did you get that inventory straightened out?” Reid asked.