Jude

“What’s wrong with Meghan?”

I glanced over at my husband, frowning a little at his question and the uncomfortable mix of surprise and worry that it sparked in me.

“What do you mean?” I shifted a little on the wide couch, tucking my legs beneath me as I faced Logan.

This time of day—or night, more accurately—was one of my favorites. It was midweek, and we were at home alone together. I’d closed the Rip Tide a few hours ago and returned to our beautiful home where the aroma of grilling steaks had greeted me. The moment I called out a greeting, my handsome, sexy husband had me in his arms, kissing me madly before he handed me a glass of chilled wine and invited me to join him on the deck. We’d talked about our respective days, caught up on the news of our family and friends, and then enjoyed a leisurely dinner together as the sun set.

Now we were snuggled on the most comfortable sofa I’d ever owned. I was idly flipping through my phone as Logan channel surfed, trying to find a baseball game to watch. It was simple and sweet and perfect, and I was so grateful for the incredible second chance at love that life had graciously handed to me.

Logan set down the remote and gazed at me. “I don’t know. She just seems as though something is . . . off. She put on a good show this past week, laughing and talking and playing with the baby, but more than once, I caught her staring off into space. Brooding. I’d almost suspect there was a boy involved, but she swears she doesn’t have any time for dating.”

I sighed. “I know. And now that you mention it, I noticed the same thing. She was acting fine, but I think it was just that—acting.” I caught Logan’s hand in mine, interlacing our fingers. “The last six months haven’t been easy on our Meggie. She’s still coming to terms with losing Daniel—you know how much of a daddy’s girl she was—and then her brother suddenly has a wife and a baby, and you and I . . .” I trailed off, nuzzling Logan’s neck. “You and I are madly in love and married. Everything is changing, and I think it’s hard on her.”

“I guess so.” Logan lifted our joined hands and kissed my knuckles. “And maybe it’s more than that. Maybe Meghan feels like her world is changing fast, and she’s not. Maybe she’s feeling left behind.”

“I hope not,” I responded. “Meghan has such a bright future ahead of her—she’s finishing her junior year at SCAD, and then after she graduates next year, I think she’ll be able to have any job she wants.”

“That’s true.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did she talk to you about this ArtCorps idea?”

“I think she mentioned it.” I tried to remember. “I don’t know. We didn’t exactly have a lot of time for quiet talks while she was here. Everything was so busy.”

“I asked Meghan if she might be interested in volunteering at the Jacksonville Museum of Art this summer. You remember when we went up there for the party Jolie threw around the holidays? I met the guy who organizes their volunteer program, and I thought it would be a great fit for Meggie. But she shot down that idea fast. She told me she was signing up for a program where she’ll get assigned to an underserved community and teach art lessons there.”

“Oh.” My brow knit. “I don’t think she said a word to me about that. I guess it means she won’t be back in the Cove this summer.” That thought gave me a pang of sadness. I hadn’t even considered that I might not have all my kids with me at home again this year. “But maybe . . . I don’t know, Logan. It might be good for Meghan to make her own way a little bit. To find something of her own, you know?”

“You may be right.” Logan played with the ends of my hair, making me shiver as his fingertips brushed the sensitive skin of my neck. “Who knows? One summer might actually change the direction of her life.”

“As long as she knows that she always has a place here in the Cove, I just want her to be happy.” I let my head drop to the sofa cushion behind me and lay one hand along Logan’s cheek. “Thank you for being so sweet and sensitive about my kids, babe. I’m very grateful that you’re part of their lives.”

He turned his head to press a kiss into my palm. “Sweetheart, I have always loved Meghan and Joseph because of who they are. But now I feel even closer to them because they are part of you, and you know . . .” Logan bent his head to kiss me lightly. “I’m just crazy about you.”

“Are you?” I giggled, feeling more like a seventeen-year-old girl than a forty-something grandmother. “I’m kind of hung up on you, too.”

He slid an arm around my shoulders and lifted me to his lap. “How about I carry you upstairs to our bedroom and show you just how crazy I am?”

I cocked my head. “Or we could be really daring and just stay right here . . .” I reached for the hem of my T-shirt and pulled it off. “We could pretend we’re back in high school, making out on the couch at my parents’ house, and we get totally carried away.”

Logan’s eyes gleamed as they raked over my body. “Baby. I’m down with getting totally carried away with you.” He eased me back onto the sofa, caging me in with his strong arms. “But let’s just say I’m really happy that we’re not back in high school . . . that after I drive you absolutely insane with pleasure, we’re going to sleep in our bed and wake up together.”

I let out a happy sigh. “Me, too, baby. Me, too.”

And then we didn’t talk for a long, long time.

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