Chapter 24
Savannah
I finish the Shafers’ meals in record time, doing everything I can not to overhear any of the conversation happening in the other room.
When I’m done, I hesitantly peek my head around the corner, but the living room is empty.
I think about finding Lola, but I can only imagine the emotions she’s dealing with right now, so instead I heft my bag onto my shoulder and slip out the front door.
Logan’s sitting alone on the porch, his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. It’s impossible to tell how he’s feeling, but no matter how the conversation went, my soul aches for this big man and his big heart.
I speak softly, not sure if he heard me come out. “Hey. You okay?”
Lifting his head, he stares at me for a long time without much of an expression on his face. Then he holds his hand out to me, squeezing my fingers as soon as I take it.
“Do you want to go somewhere?” I can’t imagine he wants to sit on Lola’s porch all day.
He nods. Stands. Takes my bag from my shoulder and leads the way to my car.
Neither of us says a word until I pull into the parking lot of Dockweiler beach. “Is this okay?” I ask, breathing a little easier when a hint of a smile lifts the corner of Logan’s mouth.
He’s the first to get out of the car, heading toward the surf without waiting to see if I’m following.
Of course I follow, fear growing in my chest. I shouldn’t worry that this is the last time I’ll see him now that he had his talk with Lola, but I do. It doesn’t matter that he told me he’s interested and doesn’t want to lose me; I don’t have experience with people choosing me over their own plans.
When I reach the place Logan stopped walking, I pause just behind him, memorizing the sight of his strong, lithe body bathed in sunlight. If this does turn out to be the end of us, I don’t want to forget his strength. Inside and out.
But then Logan turns, his eyes meeting mine, and his blank mask cracks to make way for an emotion I can’t name but instantly pulls me forward the rest of the way.
He’s the one to initiate the hug, pulling me into his chest and wrapping me up so tight that I almost can’t breathe.
I hold him just as tightly, refusing to let go first.
If he’s okay with it, I’ll never let him go.
With a shudder and a shaky breath, Logan holds me even tighter, like he’s on the verge of falling apart.
And then he exhales, and all of the tension leaves his body with that breath.
He melts into me, and the strength of his embrace changes to something different.
His grip hasn’t lessened, but it no longer feels like he’s trying to hold himself together.
“Thank you,” he says into my hair, and the sound of his voice fills me with relief. “I’m okay.”
I take my first full breath all morning. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
I have so many questions, but as Logan slowly releases his hold on me so he can meet my gaze again, every single one of those questions fizzles away. He’s given me plenty of heated looks over the last couple of weeks, but this is… This is something new.
“We can go home now,” he says and lifts a big hand to cup my cheek. His thumb runs across my lips in a featherlight touch, and a shiver ripples through me.
It’s as much from the contact as it is from what he said. We can go home now.
We.
With unsteady limbs, I lace my fingers between his and follow him to my car.
Somehow I manage to drive to my apartment in silence, ignoring the way his gaze never leaves my face while my internal temperature climbs with every passing minute.
All those questions I had on the beach come back one by one until I feel like I might explode as we climb the steps to my floor, and I only get as far as unlocking my door before I can’t hold it all back anymore.
“What happened?” I ask, spinning to face him. “Did you get the answers you wanted? Is she going to talk to you again? Are you sad or glad or mad? What about—”
“Easy, love,” he says in exasperation and plants his hand against the door above my head. “Crikey, I wondered why you were being so quiet. You were just keeping it locked up.” He brushes my lips with his thumb again, his eyes fully focused on what he’s doing.
My limbs turn entirely to jelly. The way he’s looking at me, leaning over me, touching me. It’s enough to make a girl swoon. I fight to take a whole breath but don’t really manage it. “So… It went well?”
Chuckling low, he leans closer and shifts his weight from his palm to his elbow so our bodies are flush. My heart is pounding so hard that I’m sure he can feel it, mostly because I can feel his heart’s wild beat. “I got my answers.”
“That’s…” I’m getting dizzy, as much from nearly hyperventilating as from how close he is. All he has to do is dip his head down and line his mouth up with mine. “That’s good.”
“Mm hmm.” His fingers tuck beneath my chin and gently nudge my head back. I am putty in his hands, willing to do whatever he wants me to do. It’s a miracle I was able to function after the first kiss he gave me, and I am in every way convinced it can only go up from here. “And now…”
I try to keep my eyes on his, but he’s so close. They flutter closed as my whole body anticipates what’s coming. “Now?” I repeat and hold my breath. Waiting.
The weight of his body disappears so suddenly that I almost stumble forward. Bewildered, I open my eyes and frown when I see that he’s now four feet away from me.
“What?” I gasp, my confusion coming out in the sharpness of the word.
Though Logan stuffs his hands into his pockets all casual-like, his eyes are dark and full of desire. “Now we need to have a chat,” he says, the words rumbling from his throat and leaving me weak in the knees.
“Oh, now you want to talk?” I grumble. Embarrassment floods my face with heat, but I don’t care. Not when Logan rewards me with a beautifully cocky grin.
“Dangerous,” he says, shaking his head. “But I’m not losing this bet unless we have a clear conversation about what’s coming.”
“Losing the…” I feel like my brain is swimming in gravy, and I force a deep breath so I can think straight again. Yes. Clear conversation is a good idea. “You want to lose the bet?”
Logan laughs, and the quiet sound hits me right in the chest. “Savannah, love, if you think that kiss was enough for me, then we’re definitely having that conversation.”
He’s been calling me ‘love’ since the day we met, but somehow it sounds different today. It sounds like he really means the word.
“So you want to kiss me again?” I clarify. I’m not sure I can trust my own brain right now.
Logan’s eyes jump down to my mouth, and his jaw muscles flex. “You have no idea,” he growls. “But…”
“But we should talk about what’s coming,” I say, repeating his own words.
This is what I wanted, but now that it’s here, I’m terrified.
No wonder Logan struggled so much with talking to Lola.
What if this conversation goes a way I don’t want it to?
Tucking my hands behind my back, I curl them into fists and drop my eyes to the floor between us.
“Your season ends in June.” And it’s April. That’s not a lot of time.
“It’ll start again in January.” Logan sounds so calm that I’m afraid to look at him.
“So when will you need to be back?” How long do I have until Australia calls him home?
“Christmas with my parents would be nice.”
December. I can keep him until December, and then—
“But I figure if you come with me, I’m more likely to go,” Logan says. “Otherwise I reckon I won’t see them for a while, what with my dad’s health making it hard to trek to California.”
“Yeah, you can’t make him…” My words trail off, and I lift my head, stunned by the fact that his hungry look has only gotten stronger. “Wait, you want me to go to Australia with you?” What happened to ‘clear conversation’? This is the murkiest conversation I’ve ever had.
He shrugs, hands still in his pockets. “Like I said, if you don’t come with me, I might not find the will to go. Not even for the holiday. Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be.”
“The Thunder’s season starts in January,” I realize out loud.
And when Logan nods, tears fill my eyes.
“You want to stay?” He nods again, and I have to lean against the door to keep from collapsing.
He wants to stay. I don’t have to be afraid anymore and brace myself for a heartbreaking goodbye?
Inhaling, I let the answer to that question settle in my belly and quell the unease I’ve been feeling for weeks. Logan wants to stay.
Relief and excitement and sheer love for the man in front of me flood my system and leave me reeling, which is the only explanation for the cheeky question that slips out of me. “With me?”
Logan groans. “For crying out loud, Sav, I’m in love with you. Of course I want to stay with you.”
Sweet biscuits. I dart forward, throwing my arms around his shoulders, and capture his lips with mine in a desperate, messy kiss.
Logan wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me off my feet without breaking the kiss, and then we’re moving.
He presses me against the door, teasing my mouth open at the same time.
I melt into him, running my hand through his hair and drawing a groan from his throat.
Lifting me into his arms, he grabs the door handle and pushes it open, kicking it closed behind us when we get inside.
Logan heads straight for the counter like a man on a mission and sets me down, his hands trailing down the outside of my thighs, then moving up to my ribcage, my shoulders, my hair.
Wherever he can touch. His kiss is devouring and intoxicating, and I have never felt this fire that blazes through me.
It’s deliciously intense, and I wonder how long I have before the flames consume me.
A deep yowl answers my unspoken question, telling me that there won’t be any consuming fires happening in this kitchen. Not if my cat has any say.