“Great! Daddy wanted to watch Rudolph. I told him we already saw it last week though. I think he wanted to come with us.” Oliver ripped into the package, removing each car one by one. “It was so much fun and Luke was the coolest.”
I nodded nervously and chanced a glance at Logan.
“Perhaps next year we can all go together,” Logan said, his tone even, giving nothing away.
“Oliver, this is for you.” I grabbed a small gift with a bright-green bow from the small tote I brought. I wasn’t in the mood to discuss Luke.
Oliver sat up straight, dropping the toy in his hand, grinning.
“Wow, thanks!” He ripped into the paper and I watched as his smiled melted into a bored frown when he saw what was inside. “A book?”
“Oliver,” Logan scolded and offered me an uncomfortable smile. I smiled back with a shrug. I expected the reaction.
“Thanks.” Oliver pouted, setting the book aside and crumpling the wrapping paper to toss at Scout.
“Forgive him, sweetheart. He’s—”
I began to chuckle, ignoring Logan’s apology.
“Of course I got you a book. I love Dr. Seuss, plus I want you to be the best reader our school’s ever had. But I also got you this.”
With my hand still in the bag, I pulled out a larger gift. Oliver beamed, excitement dancing in his eyes, as he ripped it open.
“Legos!” Oliver squealed. “Thanks!”
A satisfied smile pulled at my lips as he tore into the box, and began scattering the tiny bags of small pieces in a circle around him.
“Are you going to help me?”
I nodded, reaching back into my bag and found the small gift wrapped in silvery-grey paper and topped with a blue bow. “Give me a minute,” I whispered, leaning forward.
I stood, and took a seat next to Logan on the sofa. “This is for you.” I smiled coyly, handing him the gift.
After endless nights spent searching online for the perfect gift, for the guy that had everything, I found my answer when Hilary and I went to the book store.
Logan raised his brows. “You didn’t have to, Cassandra.”
“Yes, I did. I’m not sure how, but you seem to have wormed your way into my life against all my reservations.” I laughed once, nibbling my bottom lip.
Logan flashed a smile, and then looked down at the gift.
I sighed, looking down at my hands. “Seriously, over the last couple of months you really have become a good friend to me.” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “Plus, I’d be sitting home alone eating my last box of Twinkies if you hadn’t invited me over today.” I grinned, nudging his arm, lightening the mood.
Logan’s expression remained stoic, his gaze searing into mine as hot and confusing as earlier. His hand reached out and my body flooded with the warmth that only he seemed capable of filling me with. I flushed from the heat as the back of his hand delicately brushed over my cheek for the briefest second.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
There was no doubt that we both felt the undeniable electricity that flowed between us. I could see it in his eyes, in his soft expression.
“Open your gift.” I breathed, desperate to break the tension.
Without another word, Logan slowly unwrapped the gift, as if he were savoring the moment.
“A book.” He smiled genuinely. “Thank you, Cassandra, truly.”
“I know how much you love to read.”
Logan held the book in his hands, his laughter filling the room as he read the title aloud. “How to End Your Player Ways in Thirty Days or Less. How thoughtful, sweetheart.”
I shrugged. “I figured you might be interested in…” I leaned in closer to whisper, “slowing down on the number of women you bed every weekend.” I giggled when out of nowhere a pang of jealousy ripped through my chest, surprising me.
Logan held the book in his hands, looking down at it in thought. I sat there, no longer able to laugh as I watched Logan flip through the pages. His lips pulled into a thin smile but there was something deeper in his expression. Did I offend him? I pushed away the thought. Logan was impossible to insult.
I reached for the book, flipped it open, and whispered, “You should check out chapter four, ‘How to Properly Let a Girl Down After a One-Night Stand.’”
Logan slowly raised his head; his hooded eyes looked almost disappointed. In an instant his expression smoothed into a broader smile, covering it, but it was too late. I could tell he hated my gift to him.
He cleared his throat, tilting his head toward me. He sat there, staring at me for a long moment, before finally speaking.
“You know, I’ve actually been so occupied with business and all, I haven’t entertained any women lately.” His was voice rough, serious.
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I bobbed my head up and down, unable to find my words. What did it mean that he wasn’t sleeping around anymore. Was it wrong to feel relieved?
He set the book on the couch between us and the sting of regret filled my chest.
Hilary had told me that Caleb commented on Logan not going around banging any so called ‘hotties in heels,’ but I didn’t really believe it. Why would he stop?
“Oh,” I muttered, coyly. “Well, perhaps you’ll find something useful in the book anyway.” I swallowed the large lump that had suddenly formed in my throat and slowly moistened my dry lips. I felt horrible. He looked defeated, like I just slapped him across the face. I expected it to be a funny gag gift with him making some snide comment, or perverted remark. We would tease each other about it and move on with a good laugh. So far, the complete opposite was happening. I never felt like more of a bitch.
I reached back into my bag, staring down at Oliver who was lying on his stomach, elbows propping him up, feet dangling in the air. His full attention was on building his Legos, completely oblivious to the adult conversation and thick tension a few feet behind him.
“I got you something else as well.” I pulled the gift from my tote beside the couch, feeling suddenly awkward.
Logan smiled but it still didn’t reach his eyes and untied the ribbon on his gift. “Let me guess.” He shook the box, and then whispered, “Condoms?”
I slapped his arm, and rolled my eyes.
He chuckled, taking his time opening the package. The moment he had the box opened, his smile melted into something dark and secretive. Did he hate this as well? My stomach dropped.
“Sweetheart…this is—” he started, staring down at the mahogany frame in his hands.
“I took it myself. Do you like it?” Why was I so nervous all of a sudden?
He set the frame—holding a photo of he and Oliver in the midst of their straw fight at the farm—on the table beside the couch and looked back at me, smiling. It was my favorite picture and one that now hung proudly in my kitchen. In it, both of their faces were relaxed and lit with humor. It was peaceful and made me smile every time I walked past it, which is why I knew it was the right gift.
“It’s perfect. Thank you, truly.”
He stood, picking up the book I got him and placed it on the coffee table, with a thoughtful sigh. I swallowed, watching him walk across the room to the tree, where he bent down to retrieve the lone present on the thick quilted tree skirt.
“This is for you.” Logan smiled softly, handing me the snow-white gift bag filled with silver tissue paper. He sat back down beside me, staring over at Oliver.