Indestructible by Angela Graham

my sides, running stealthily over the feeling of expensive cotton. I breathed a sigh of relief, ignoring the fact that I had no recollection of dressing. I’d been in his bed for more than 24 hours, and he’d let me sleep the entire time.
    “I think she heard us,” Logan said, chuckling.
    I rolled over and faced the two handsome faces standing in the doorway, watching me.
    “Yay! She’s up!” Oliver stumbled forward with glee and Logan’s hand shot out to his shoulder, stabilizing him.
    “Careful,” Logan said.
    Oliver walked over with precise steps, slow and determined, careful not to spill the tall glass of orange juice in his hands.
    I sat up, smiling. The precious view of his cheerful face first thing in the morning was the perfect start to any day—especially when paired with Logan’s.
    “This is for you. I made it all myself,” Oliver boasted, wearing a proud grin and holding the glass out to me.
    “I’d like to think I helped a little,” Logan added, with a playful smile aimed at me.
    I took the glass carefully and brought it to my lips. As I swallowed, my brows rose. I was impressed.
    “Delicious!” I praised. It wasn’t an exaggeration, either—the juice was freshly squeezed and ice cold. I took another drink.
    “She likes it!” Oliver looked over to Logan, then back at me. “I do too. I picked the biggest oranges. Aunt Katie says those are the best.”
    I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed. His smile was infectious. “It’s perfect. Thank you.” I set the glass down on the bedside table and noticed the clock. It was close to nine. “Ah, I’m sorry. I was exhausted and overslept. You better get going so you’re not late for school.”
    “I will. But promise to drink lots of juice, ’kay?”
    I giggled at the persistence that rivaled his father’s. “You got it.”
    Logan stepped forward just inside the door. “I’m going to drop him off at school, then I’ll be back. You sleep, and if you need anything, I’ll be here.”
    “Don’t you have work?”
    He shrugged. “I can take a few days.”
    I sat up straighter. “Logan, you need to work. I don’t want to be a burden. Plus, we both know I won’t be getting much resting done if you’re close by.”
    He cocked a brow, that playful smirk creeping over his enticing lips.
    “How come?” Oliver asked suddenly, reminding us we weren’t alone. “You bot’er her, Daddy?”
    I bit my lip to stifle a laugh, my cheeks flushing.
    “Never. I give you my word: I’m always very nice to her,” Logan told him, eyes still on me. My insides melted at those seductive baby blues.
    “Good,” Oliver said, watching me lift the glass and finish the last of the juice. “More?”
    I shook my head, sobering as I tore my gaze from Logan’s. “No thanks. We can have a glass together when you get home, though. With some cookies, maybe?”
    “I love cookies. But I love them with milk, not juice.” He scrunched his nose.
    Makes sense.
    “You’re right. Milk is better with cookies.” I smiled, then glanced back over to Logan with a cocked brow. “So you’re going to work then.”
    “If you insist. I’m sure I have plenty to do at the office to distract me from the fact that you’re here, in my bed.” His tongue peeked out, wetting not only his bottom lip but my entire sex. “But you best stay in that bed and sleep . You need it.”
    His eyes spoke volumes over his words. Yeah yeah. Sleep—got it.
    “Yes, sir.” I saluted, and Oliver giggled. My laughter joined his, and I reached out for a hug. He was too adorable to resist. He hugged me back tightly. “You have a fun day at school, and when you get home you can tell me everything you learned. Deal?”
    “Deal.” Oliver stepped back, staring at me—or, more accurately, at the small bandages on my face, hesitant to inquire about something clearly on his mind.
    “Hey, what’s wrong?” I asked softly.
    Oliver glanced from my eyes to the bandages and back,