I smiled at him. “No, really, I’m cool.”

“Babe,” he said.

“What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.

“You’re not down with that,” he repeated.

I shook my head and replied, “It’s not that. It’s just that I wanted to put a garage out here, a new one. A nice one. One with an opener and one that would mean ice scraping would be history. But you need a safe place for your RV. I’m used to parking in the courtyard. And a new garage would mean putting in motion sensor lights everywhere so I didn’t kill myself in the dark getting up to the house. That’s a big project and a lot of money. So,” I shrugged, “whatever. I like your vision. It’s all good.”

He studied me a second, then tugged on my hand, leading me back through the gate but stopping us on the lower patio.

He looked around. He did it holding my hand but he did it for a long time.

I didn’t know what was on his mind. I wanted to know what was on his mind but I also had a meeting.

So I needed to step this up.

“Low,” I called his attention to me.

When I got it, he declared, “We got a problem.”

I was confused.

“What? How?”

He turned us to the back fence. “ ’Cause if we move that fence in to give you room for your garage and me room to pull in the RV nose-first at the side, you lose at least half this patio, probably more.” He pointed to the brick beneath our feet. Then he turned us to the house. “And we gotta look at building on two rooms. We do that, not only gonna eat up some of your courtyard, also gonna eat up some of that top patio.”

This also didn’t fill me with glee.

To give his daughters their own rooms and the house a dining room meant I’d lose even more of the vision I had for my house that I’d nurtured and fed for eleven years.

That would suck.

Not allowing Logan to have what he needed for himself and his daughters would suck more.

“So grade the back and put the RV in as you planned,” I decided.

He looked down at me. “Means you don’t get your garage.”

“I’ve lived without it since I’ve lived here,” I told him. “I can continue to live without it.”

His hand tightened in mine. “Millie—”

I cut him off. “Alternate scenarios are to extend the pergola over the courtyard or fully roof it so we can park under that. We’d avoid snow on our vehicles even if we didn’t avoid ice.”

This I didn’t like either unless carefully designed. Not carefully designed, it’d look ugly. And that was not only my view out the kitchen window but out the studio windows as well.

“Or,” I went on, “we can make the courtyard into the backyard space. Put in a fountain. Some furniture. Clients can park out front or in the drive. And we can eat up this patio for the garage and your RV space because we’d still have our outside area and it’d be closer to the house.”

“May need part of the courtyard for the dining room and bedroom, beautiful,” Logan reminded me.

I lifted my shoulders and gave it all.

“So, we grade the back, put your RV there, and when it gets to the point where you have the girls more often, we move to a new house.”

Logan’s hand tightened in mine again, doing this firm, and it felt like it was automatic.

This reaction confused me too.

I used his name to ask my question. “Logan?”

“You made this yours. You dig it. Not gonna make you move,” he said.

He was right. I liked that he cared about that for me because I cared about it too.

However.

“It’s just a house.”

“You made it yours, Millie.”

“So I’ll make another house mine, actually ours. And that’s probably good. My house is girlie. I think Cleo and Zadie dig it, even though Zadie wouldn’t admit that now. But that doesn’t negate the fact that a man will be living with us and we have to have a mind to that. Though,” I carried on quickly, “I will say now, no more fixer-uppers. Even if it takes us two years, we find something right for all of us and that right will be an as-is right. Not a do-a-load-of-work-on-it-for-years right. I’ve been there done that got the T-shirt with the renovation thing and I use the T-shirt as a dust cloth because the results were spectacular but the road to that was a pain in my ass. Not to mention super-freaking-expensive.”

He stared down at me a beat, the look in his eyes one I couldn’t read.

Right before I was going to ask what was up with him, I found my mouth engaged in doing something else. Namely him plundering it with his tongue.

I held on tight, my arms around his shoulders, my body pressed to his, his arms snug around me, and felt the gratitude (and other things) he communicated through his kiss.

Upcoming meeting I was soon to be late for or not, I was disappointed when it ended.

But it ended and it ended on an extremely high note when he said immediately after, “Love you, Millie.”

“Love you too, Snooks,” I breathed.

He rested his forehead on mine a second before he lifted a bit away. “Grade the back for now, build the fence. Cost won’t be too high, we figure somethin’ out about stayin’ at your pad and change our minds and hafta tear the fence down to build a garage. Yeah?”

I nodded.

“No answer now,” he said. “But want you thinkin’ on it. When you got an answer, you give it to me straight up, no worries about my reaction. But you built somethin’ beautiful here, babe.” He jerked his head toward my house. “If you’re gonna have a problem lettin’ that go—”

“Logan,” I interrupted him. “The only problem I’ll have is if I don’t have you wherever it is I am.” I pressed closer and dipped my voice quieter. “Like I said. It’s just a house. Do I love it?” I asked, then answered myself. “Yes. But it’s an it. You’re you. You’re back so that means my home is where you are. It’s that simple and that’s your answer. I don’t have to think about it for even a second.”

I got done with my speech and got another kiss. This was longer, hotter, harder and it spoke of gratitude and a lot of other things, lots of them, and they were all good.

Unfortunately, when he broke it that time, I had to share, “I’ve got a meeting, Snook’ums.”

“Right,” he muttered, staring at my mole.

“Low,” I called.

He looked to my eyes.

“Sort out the back. Get your RV here. All that’s you. Really come home,” I ordered.

“Fuck,” he growled. “You don’t quit the sweet, you ain’t gonna be late for your meeting. You’re not gonna make it.”

I grinned. “Okay, then let me go so I don’t lose a client and perhaps my ability to pay for more staff so I can have more time for you.”

“I let you go, gotta watch your ass in that skirt walkin’ up to your studio,” he returned.

I grinned again but on the inside.

“You really do have sex on the brain,” I noted.

“Think you missed it, Millie, but haven’t fucked you yet today.”

I hadn’t missed it.

“I think that means tonight’s gonna be fun,” I replied.

He shook his head but did it with lips curled up.

“Are you gonna let me go?” I asked.

“No,” he answered, even as he did what he said he wasn’t going to do. “Never. Not ever, babe.” His eyes warmed. “But I’ll let you go to your meeting.”

Now he was being sweet.

“No fair. Now I wanna jump you.”

His eyes stayed warm but his smile was cocky.

This could go on all day. And in order to be able to jump him whenever I felt like it (eventually), I needed Justine on board.

Which meant I needed my client.

So I reached to his thermal, grabbed a fistful, and pulled him to me. I got up on toes to press my lips hard to his and then shifted away.

“Later, Snooks,” I whispered.

“Later, baby,” he whispered back.

I grinned at him and let him go.

Then I walked away. Even in a hurry, I did it slow so I could give him a show because I knew my man was watching and I was his old lady.