Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Logan
A ll that night he’d lain awake, haunted by the knowledge that it would be the last time he would lie next to Harper. Logan had considered sleeping on the couch, but to his shame, he couldn’t resist the chance to hold her in his arms one last time.
They’d gone to bed after a silent dinner, Harper having spent the afternoon packing her things back into her suitcase. Logan had found her an old duffel bag from his football days to put the many things she’d accumulated since being in Cape Wilde.
They’d gone to bed in awkward silence, but once the lights went out, he reached for her. He used his body to tell her how he felt, worshipping her with his hands and his mouth. For once, he did not speak, not daring to say a word in case he confessed his feelings to her and made this all so much worse.
What would happen? If she didn’t feel the same way about him, it would be all that more awkward.
And if she did?
Then she might feel like she should stay, and the last thing Logan wanted was for her to feel trapped here. She was made for bigger things, not for a small town guy like him.
And so they clung to each other as they made love slowly, and Logan tried not to hope that she was doing the same thing as him; telling him how she felt without using words.
Afterward, they lay in each other’s arms, Logan stroking his hand over Harper’s back until her breathing evened out and she slept. It took him hours to follow her into sleep, and when he woke it felt like he’d barely gotten any rest.
He patted the side of the bed next to him, reaching for Harper but she had gone. Logan sat bolt upright and leaped out of bed. She wasn’t in the bathroom. Had she gone without saying goodbye?
“Harper?” He shouted as he thundered down the stairs into the kitchen. “Harper?”
He skidded around the corner in his bare feet, not a stitch of clothing on him, coming to an abrupt stop at the sight of Harper cradling a cup of coffee as she spoke with a shorter woman who could only be her sister Isla, and a man who had the same expression that Mason wore when he was scanning for threats. All three turned at his entrance, Isla covering her mouth, eyes sparkling with laughter.
He was so relieved that Harper was still there that for a moment he forgot he was naked and just closed his eyes and sighed in relief.
“Um, Logan?”
He felt something soft hit him in the chest and grabbed at what turned out to be a dishtowel, using it to cover his groin.
Harper walked toward him and made a little shooing motion with her fingers. As they retreated to the relative privacy of the hallway, Logan overheard Isla comment something about “seeing what the big deal was all about”. A deep growl followed from the man who he assumed was the mysterious bodyguard, King.
Harper’s lips twitched as she let her gaze run over Logan’s body. They both ignored the low voices arguing in the next room.
“You thought I’d left?”
Logan nodded. “It did occur to me.”
He clutched the dishtowel in front of his dick, feeling more and more foolish for having thundered down the stairs yelling for her. He let his head drop back and groaned.
“I wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye,” she said, her voice soft and a little sad.
Or was he imagining things? He was so twisted up inside it was hard to tell.
“Um, I’m just going to…” Logan trailed off, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the stairs.
Harper nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
She was looking up at the ceiling, lips turned inwards. Logan’s lips twitched. He’d spent enough time in locker rooms to not have any hangups about being naked around other people.
He tossed the towel back to Harper who caught it with a gasp, gave her a wink and slowly sauntered back up the stairs as if they had all the time in the world.
Sometimes a man needed to make a point.
A short while later Logan made his way into the kitchen for the second time that morning, though this time he was dressed in his usual jeans and a flannel shirt. He paused just out of sight before entering the room, and took a deep breath, forcing a neutral expression onto his face. The one that Rowan said made him look grouchy, but felt the most natural to Logan.
He couldn’t be anyone but himself. He knew that Harper liked him—hell, he’d hoped she had feelings a little stronger than ‘like’ for him—but he would be damned if he’d try to trap her here.
He wouldn’t make it harder for her to go, either. So he pushed aside anything that he wanted, any dreams he’d had, and walked into the kitchen as if the only person there who knew what he looked like naked was Harper.
Warm brown eyes turned to him, and she smiled. “Let’s try this again,” she said, lips twitching. “Logan, this is my sister, Isla, and King, her…bodyguard?” She looked to Isla who rolled her eyes and turned her back on the brooding man next to her.
King grunted. “Yes, Isla. Remember me?”
Isla huffed. As interesting as that little display was, Logan couldn’t care less. He was much more concerned with Harper’s state of mind. He held his hand out first to Isla then to King, shaking them both in way of introduction. He nodded and then turned his full attention back to Harper.
“So,” he said.
“So,” she said, licking her bottom lip and fiddling with the hem of her top. Today’s was jade green, oversized and made out of a slinky material that shone a little in the light. It clung to the tops of her breasts and drifted lazily around her as she tugged the fabric back and forth.
“Everything ok?” Logan asked softly.
She darted a look to Isla, and then down at her feet, not answering.
“Hey, Logan?” Isla asked. “Is there anything around here that The Bear here would like to look at?” She jerked her head toward King, who glared at her and ground his teeth together.
“Harper?” He wasn’t going anywhere if she needed him.
“That’s a good idea. I need to talk to Isla.” She nodded and then swallowed. “Alone.”
He didn’t like it, but if that was what she wanted, he’d do it. He nodded, gesturing for King to follow him. The bodyguard was like a thundercloud, his presence looming and dark.
“I wish she wouldn’t call me that,” he muttered under his breath, boots thumping on the wood of the deck as Logan led him outside.
They walked down to the jetty together, neither talking.
“You served with Mason?” Logan asked finally, not wanting Harper to get a report that he had been rude. Not that it really mattered when he was unlikely to see her again after today.
He frowned. Why did he care?
Oh yeah, because he was in love with her.
“West? Yeah. He was my Sergeant when I discharged, helped me figure things out when I needed help.”
Logan’s eyebrows quirked in surprise. The Mason he knew barely talked to anyone, was surly and argumentative more often than not, and didn’t appear to like anyone or anything. He hadn’t always been like that, and Logan wondered if there was a small part of his brother that was the same man he’d been before…well, everything that had happened.
“And you’re Isla’s bodyguard?”
King snorted, rubbing a hand over the short dark hair at the back of his neck. “Who knows what the fuck I am?”
That sentiment was something so viscerally familiar to Logan that he grimaced in sympathy.
“Oh man, not you too?”
King was far too perceptive, Logan decided as he sighed. “Don’t tell her.”
The other man nodded and lifted his hand for a fist bump. “Scout’s honor.”
Logan laughed at that. King was covered in tattoos, even the backs of his hands and his knuckles, and the sides of his head where the hair was cut military short showed even his skull was tattooed. He was the furthest thing from Logan’s image of a boy scout.
Feeling a little more at ease and like he had found an ally, Logan gestured to the barn where he had his home gym set up. “Want to see the gym?”
King’s eyes lit up. “Yeah? I’m about to tear my hair out. Show me what you’ve got.”