Chapter 39 #2
"Eventing. It's like the triathlon of horseback riding—dressage, cross-country, show jumping.
I was pretty good at it too." She smiled at the memory, could almost smell the leather and hay.
"Spent every spare minute at the barn. My parents thought I was insane.
Spending all my money on lessons and entry fees instead of, you know, normal teenage stuff. "
"Why'd you stop?"
"Life, I guess. After college, I got my first journalism job.
Started traveling more. There wasn't time anymore.
" She looked down at her hands, at the way her fingers had automatically started twisting together.
"I miss it sometimes. The smell of hay and leather.
The feeling of a good horse underneath you, the way their muscles move.
The way everything else just... disappears when you're riding.
It's just you and the horse and the rhythm. Nothing else matters."
Ghost was quiet for a moment, just looking at her. His hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You should go back to it. After this is over."
"Maybe." She met his eyes. "What about you? What makes Logan Hayes happy?"
He considered that, his gaze drifting toward the windows where the night had turned full dark. "Honestly? Most of the time, not much. I'm pretty good at work. Pretty shit at everything else."
"That's not true."
"It is." He looked back at her. "I'm thirty-two years old and the only thing I've ever been good at is following orders and shooting straight." He paused, his hand finding hers. "Until recently, anyway."
"What changed recently?"
He looked at her, and there was something vulnerable in his expression. "You."
Her face warmed. "Logan..."
"I'm serious." His hand came up to cup her face, fingers threading through her hair.
"You make me want to be good at other things.
Normal things. Like making breakfast and watching TV on the couch and.
.." He paused, swallowing. "Like having someone to come home to.
Like building a life that's more than just the next mission. "
Rachel's throat went tight. "I want that too."
He leaned in and kissed her. Slow and deep and full of all the unspoken things building between them.
When he pulled back, Rachel settled against his chest again. They sat quietly for a while, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm. She could hear his heartbeat beneath her ear, steady and strong.
"There is one other thing," Ghost said quietly.
"What?"
"The piano."
Rachel lifted her head. "The piano?"
"Yeah. The one in the living room." He paused, and she could feel the tension in his body. "My mom taught me when I was a kid. Before she died."
Rachel sat up fully, turning to face him. "You play?"
"Used to. Not much anymore, but..." He shrugged, but she could see how much this meant to him. "It's how I center myself. When shit gets too loud in my head, I play. It's the one thing that's just mine. Separate from being a SEAL. Separate from all the rest of it."
Rachel's chest tightened. She reached for his hand. "Will you play something for me?"
He looked at her for a long moment, something vulnerable and uncertain in his eyes, then nodded.
They stood and moved to the piano. Ghost sat down on the bench, and Rachel settled beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched, that she could feel the warmth of him.
He lifted the fallboard, exposing the keys. His hands hovered over them for a moment, and she saw him take a deep breath, then his fingers touched the keys, gentle and reverent, like greeting an old friend.
And then he started to play.
The music filled the room, haunting and beautiful and achingly sad.
A classical piece Rachel didn't recognize, but it moved through her like something physical.
She watched his hands move across the keys, sure and practiced despite how long it had been.
This was a part of him she'd never seen before. Vulnerable. Soft. Completely human.
When he finished, the last note hung in the air between them, fading slowly into silence.
"That was beautiful," Rachel whispered, afraid to break the spell.
He looked at her, and there was something raw in his expression. Something unguarded. "My mom used to play it. Chopin. Nocturne in E-flat major."
"She taught you that?"
"Yeah. It was her favorite." His voice was quiet, rough around the edges.
Rachel's hand found his, threading their fingers together. "I'm sorry."
"It was a long time ago." He looked down at their joined hands. "But yeah. That's what makes me happy. Playing. Remembering her. Knowing she'd be proud that I kept it up, even if it's just for myself now."
Rachel leaned her head against his shoulder, and they sat there in the quiet. The weight of shared vulnerability hung between them, intimate and precious.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
"For what?"
"For sharing that with me. For trusting me with something that matters so much to you."
His arm came around her, pulling her closer. "Thank you for asking. For wanting to know."
They sat there for a while longer, neither of them moving. The house was completely quiet except for the distant sound of waves and the occasional creak of the structure settling. Outside, the world kept turning. Tomorrow would come. The team would return. Everything would change.
But right now, they had this.
Ghost shifted finally, turning to face her. "Rachel?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't know what happens after this is over.
" His voice was low, intense. "I don't know how we make this work when you're traveling and I'm deploying.
When your life is chasing stories across the world and mine is wherever the Navy sends me.
But I want to try." He paused, his hand coming up to cup her face.
"I want you in my life. However that looks. Whatever it takes."
Rachel's eyes stung. Her throat felt too tight. "I want that too."
He cupped her face with both hands and kissed her. Slow and deep and full of all the things neither of them knew how to say yet. All the feelings that were too big, too new, too terrifying to name.
When they finally pulled apart, Rachel yawned despite herself.
Ghost smiled, something tender in his expression. "Come on. Let's get some sleep."
"Can we stay here? On the couch?"
"Yeah. We can stay here."
He stood and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, spreading it out, then lay down and pulled her against him, her back to his chest, his arm wrapped around her waist. She laced her fingers with his where they rested against her stomach.
"Logan?" she said quietly into the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"I'm glad I got assigned to embed with your unit. I'm glad we met."
His arm tightened around her, pulling her impossibly closer. "Me too, baby. Me too."
Rachel closed her eyes, feeling his warmth at her back, his steady breathing against her neck. Tomorrow everything would change. Tomorrow the team would come back and the mission would become real and they'd be moving toward danger instead of hiding from it.
But tonight, wrapped in his arms with the memory of piano music still echoing in her mind, she felt something rising in her chest. Words she'd never said to anyone before. Words that terrified her with their weight and truth.
I love you.
She almost said them.
Her lips parted. The words sat right there on her tongue, heavy and real and true.
But Ghost's breathing had already evened out, deepening into the rhythm of sleep. And she didn't want to say it when he couldn't hear her. Didn't want to say something that big and important into the darkness without being able to see his face, to know how he felt.
So she pressed a kiss to the arm wrapped around her and whispered, "Goodnight, Logan."
Tomorrow the team would come. They'd finalize everything moving forward. But tonight they had this, and it was enough.
She closed her eyes and let sleep take her, holding the words close to her heart where they'd have to wait.