He had no idea where those words had come from. Probably the idea had been simmering on the back burner of his mind for a long time. But all of a sudden it was the truest thing he’d said since telling Daisy Bellamy, “Let’s have the baby and raise it together,” eleven years ago.

Hearing a guy declare he was going to take on such a risky enterprise was bound to send a woman running for cover. Trying to make a living by running a ski resort was like betting on horses or playing the lottery.

Darcy’s reaction was the last thing he’d expected. “That’s awesome,” she said.

“Awesome as in a wise investment, or awesome as in bat-shit crazy?”

She laughed. “Depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you.”

“Why? Does my opinion matter?”

Not really, he thought. There had been a time, long ago, when he’d put great stock in opinions—of parents, teachers, coaches. There had been a time when his father’s opinion had mattered so much that Logan had lost himself. He could admit that now. He had been lost in some mythic quest for perfect—on the soccer field, in school, in business.

Then out of the worst thing to happen in his life had come the best thing he’d ever done—Charlie. Since he became a dad, every move he made had been for Charlie’s sake.

Telling Darcy about the ski resort made Logan feel a spark of...something. That touch or spike that happened when an idea struck a chord. He hadn’t felt it in a long time. Since Charlie had left, Logan had tried to do the right thing—take care of his business and his life, contribute to his 401(k), go to the dentist for regular checkups. He’d done everything by the book and look what it had brought him. Charlie was moving farther away—proof that doing the right thing did not automatically cause the right thing to happen. For all of his efforts, he had nothing but routine predictability. It was time to shake things up. He’d been good long enough.

“I’m ready to take the risk,” he told Darcy. “Are you a risk taker?”

“I have been.” She touched her bottom lip with her finger, an absent gesture. “Not lately, though. I used to be a frequent flier when it comes to taking risks. But sometimes that means you come crashing down. Still, I think I liked myself better when I was a risk taker.”

Odd thing to say. He found himself wanting to hear more. He needed to have a normal conversation right now. He needed to escape the torn-up feeling inside. “How about we—”

“Oh, good, you’re here,” said India, hurrying toward them. “I was wondering if I was going to see my baby brother before we left.”

“Lucky you,” he said, giving her a hug.