Page 41 of Forgiving Her First Love

“That’s good news,” Logan said as Sophie retook her chair. “About Randy.”

“Is it ever. Your dad would have loved this band.” She cocked an ear as they shifted into a Guess Who/BTO medley. “It was all seventies, all the time, in the office. It drove Randy nuts. He’s more of a Drake fan.”

“Is Drake Can—That’s a joke,” Logan insisted when she flung him a look of outrage. “I know he’s Canadian. I’ve met him.” His brows went up in self-deprecation at his own brag.

“Really. When? How?”

“A party.” He shrugged it off. “I’m sure he forgot my name the second he heard it. Everyone was trying to talk to him.”

“You didn’t play the Canadian card?”

“Nah, I was the boat guy.” He took a pull off his beer.

“What do you mean?”

His mouth went sideways, rueful and maybe reluctant to say.

“Some of those ballers in Florida have so much money, they literally don’t know what to do with it. After I designed a cabin cruiser for one, he started inviting me to parties on it. He liked me to help him tour his guests so I could give all the technical details. He was really happy with it, so that part felt good, but he was always pushing people to hire me to build them their own boat. That was awkward sometimes. I got business out of it, but it turned into people saying, ‘Right. You’re the boat guy.’” His tone became flat and dismissive.

“Oof. You should have got yourself a T-shirt. Stay ahead of it.”

“At least it gave me something to talk about at those things. I always thought parties like that would be more fun. They were actually…” He trailed off.

“What?” She drained her water and tipped a splash of marguerita into her glass.

“I don’t know. Empty?” He didn’t look entirely comfortable admitting it. “I liked my clients. They were great, but we were friendly, not friends. When I was out with them, it wasn’t like this, where I look around and know people, not just recognize them. By the way, since when is Tamara into guys?” He nodded toward the receptionist from the lodge. She had her head tilted toward a young man as the man shaped his words with his hands.

“That’s her cousin. Supposedly he’s just visiting, but I hear he’s tired of the rat race in Surrey and has an HVAC ticket. Maybe buy him a beer.”

“Good recon.”

“Right? Randy has a girl in Nanaimo, by the way,” she warned.

“We sponsored his apprenticeship. He has to give us three years or reimburse us for his tuition.”

“Something he could do on city wages so I suggest you give him a very nice bump in his hourly rate and feel him out on where her skill set lies. I suspect it’s nursing so that could be tricky.” They absolutely needed more health care here, but positions were filled by the health authority with temporary contracts. There wasn’t much opportunity for permanent full-time.

“Hmm.” He frowned.

“Yeah.”

Sophie suddenly realized that, as they had spoken, they had leaned in close to each other. Their shoulders were almost touching. She drew back but had to stay close enough to talk over the music.

“Is this really what you were missing when you were drinking champagne on a superyacht of your own design? Labor problems and your employee’s love life?”

His gaze shifted restlessly across the crowd then came back to her face where she felt his study almost like a physical touch. She expected him to offer a laconic comeback, but he looked very serious.

“That’s not exactly what I was missing, but I definitely felt like something was. I should have been as stoked as Randy. I worked hard to get to that level. Being ‘the boat guy,’ getting contracts where cost is no object is a dream come true. I loved that and I haven’t been able to take on any new ones since I’ve been here so that’s driving me nuts. I loved the sun, too.” He shook his head with mild disgust at the changeable, damp coastal weather here. “But the rest of my life was pretty hollow.”

“Oh no.” She poked the top of his chest near his shoulder, understanding exactly what had happened. “You’re starting to love your little sister. Aren’t you?”

“So?” He gave her a cross look, smirking behind it. “It’s Stockholm Syndrome.” He wet his lips with his beer. “Babies are very sneaky. They break you down with sleep deprivation, then act like you’re a god because you disappear and reappear with your own hands.”

“I know, right?” She chuckled. “Wait until she’s talking. They say the funniest things.” She smiled wistfully at the memory of Biyen learning to talk, trying to make sense of his world. “Watching them grow up is such a bittersweet balance of celebrating every little milestone and saying good-bye to the child they were. I love who Biyen is now, and I really love how independent he is, but I miss the boy who fit in my lap and believed I had all the answers.”

Logan’s grin faded and his gaze dropped into the amber ale he was nursing. Was he realizing he might not be here when Storm was too big for his lap? Or worried that Storm wouldn’t be?

“Do you ever think about having another baby?” he asked curiously, lifting his gaze to hers. “Not asking as your employer,” he clarified dryly.