Chapter 26 Making It Work #2
Logan pulled Mara close the moment they slipped under the covers, bodies slotting together like they’d never been separated.
No need for words tonight; they knew each other’s rhythms now, knew exactly how to touch, where to linger.
He kissed her slowly, deeply—long, unhurried strokes of tongue that tasted like homecoming.
His hand slid down her spine, fingers splaying across the small of her back, drawing her thigh over his hip so they were pressed together chest-to-hip, heat building where they touched.
Mara sighed into his mouth, fingers carding through his short hair. “I love how you feel,” she whispered against his lips. “Everywhere.”
He gave her that small, private smile only she ever saw and rolled them so she lay beneath him, forearms braced beside her head so he could look down at her in the dim light.
He kissed her throat, her collarbone, pausing over the faint scar along her shoulder—a quiet reminder of the night she’d refused to leave without him.
When he reached her breast, he took his time: soft licks around the areola, gentle suction on the peak until it hardened under his tongue and her breath hitched in those quiet, needy sounds he’d learned to crave.
She tugged at him gently. “Come here.”
Logan shifted higher, settling between her thighs. He didn’t rush inside her. Instead he rocked against her slowly—his length sliding along her folds, coating himself in her arousal, nudging her clit with every deliberate pass until she was trembling, hips lifting in silent ask.
“Logan…” Her voice was soft, almost reverent.
He reached between them, guiding himself to her entrance.
Their eyes met in the faint glow from the street—open, unguarded, full of everything they’d survived to reach this moment—as he pushed inside.
Slow. So slow. Inch by careful inch until he was buried deep, hips flush to hers, both of them stilling to savor it: the perfect stretch, the deep fullness, the way their bodies locked together like they belonged nowhere else.
They stayed like that a long heartbeat—foreheads touching, breathing each other’s air—before he began to move.
Long, measured thrusts that dragged pleasure through them in lazy, building waves.
Mara wrapped her legs around his waist, heels pressing into his lower back, urging him deeper without rushing the rhythm.
Every roll of his hips ground against her clit; every slow withdrawal left her aching for the next careful glide home.
Their hands roamed with quiet purpose—hers tracing the familiar scars across his back, his cupping her face, thumb brushing her cheekbone like she was something irreplaceable. Kisses broke only for soft gasps, murmured names, quiet affirmations that didn’t need volume to carry weight.
“I love you,” he breathed against her temple.
“I love you,” she answered, voice cracking just enough to make his heart squeeze.
The words settled between them like an anchor.
Logan slipped a hand between their bodies, fingers finding her clit, circling in the same slow, steady rhythm as his thrusts. The dual sensation unraveled her gently but inexorably: heat pooling low, tightening, spreading until her thighs began to shake and her breath turned ragged.
“Stay with me,” he whispered. “Right here.”
Mara nodded, clinging to him as the orgasm built—quiet, intense, inevitable.
It crested in long, rolling pulses that made her arch beneath him, walls fluttering and clenching around him in soft, rhythmic waves.
She came with his name on her lips—soft, broken, perfect—nails pressing into his shoulders as pleasure moved through her like a warm tide.
Logan followed moments later, hips pressing deep one last time as he spilled inside her with a low, shuddering groan—face buried in her neck, body trembling against hers in perfect mirror.
He stayed there, buried inside her, until the aftershocks faded and their breathing slowed to match the distant hum of the night outside.
Finally, he eased out gently, rolling to his side and pulling her against his chest. She curled into him, leg draped over his hip, hand resting over his heart.
Afterward, wrapped in sheets with the windows open to the North Carolina night, Mara thought about how much had changed in six months.
She'd learned to share her life. To let Logan into parts of herself she'd kept locked down for years. To trust that he wouldn't use her vulnerability against her. To believe that love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger because you had something worth fighting for beyond the mission.
Logan had learned to balance his career with his relationship.
To take leave. To let his team handle things without him sometimes.
To understand that being in love with someone who did the same dangerous work meant accepting worry as a constant companion but also knowing that she understood the risks in a way most people couldn't.
They'd both learned that long distance was hard but not impossible. That trust was essential. That communication mattered more than proximity. That you could build something real even when you were apart more than you were together.
"What are you thinking about?" Logan asked quietly.
"How different things are now. How much better." Mara turned to face him. "Six months ago I was terrified of this. Of us. Of what it would mean to let someone in."
"And now?"
"Now I can't imagine not having you. Can't imagine going back to keeping everything compartmentalized and separate and safe." She traced the scar on his jaw. "You were worth the risk."
"So were you." Logan kissed her forehead. "Best decision I ever made was asking you out for that beer."
"Best decision I ever made was saying yes."
They fell asleep tangled together, the comfort of knowing that in two days Logan would take her to the airport and they'd say goodbye for another few weeks.
That he'd deploy to Afghanistan and she'd run operations in Louisiana and they'd go back to video calls and texts and stolen moments between missions.
But they'd made it work for six months. They'd survived deployments and operations and the constant pull of careers that demanded everything. They'd learned to balance love and duty, personal and professional, the mission and the relationship.
And they'd keep doing it. Keep finding ways to make the time together count. Keep building something that mattered even when they were apart.
The weekend passed too quickly like it always did.
Lazy mornings in bed. Long talks over coffee.
Cooking together in Logan's small kitchen.
A visit to Bulldog and his girlfriend where they all had dinner and laughed about the absurdity of trying to maintain relationships while deployed half the year.
On Sunday, Logan drove Mara to the airport. They sat in the car for a few extra minutes, neither wanting to start the goodbye.
"Two weeks until you deploy," Mara said.
"Two weeks. Then four to six weeks in Afghanistan. Then I'll come to Louisiana when I get back. Spend some time at L'Abri S?r before we plan that trip." Logan took her hand. "You'll be careful while I'm gone?"
"Always am. You'll do the same?"
"Always."
"Liar. You're Delta Force. Careful isn't in your job description."
Logan smiled. "Fair point. I'll be as careful as the mission allows."
"That's all I can ask." Mara leaned over and kissed him. Long and deep and full of everything she couldn't say in an airport parking lot. When she pulled back, both of them were breathing harder. "I love you."
"I love you too." Logan's thumb brushed her cheek. "Go. Before I convince you to miss your flight and stay another day."
"Tempting. But Sloane's expecting me back for the Houston debrief tomorrow." Mara grabbed her bag from the back seat. "Call me when you can?"
"Every chance I get."
Mara got out of the truck and headed for the terminal. She turned back once and saw Logan still watching. He raised a hand in goodbye. She waved back, then walked inside feeling the familiar ache of leaving but also the certainty that they'd see each other again soon.
This was their life. Long distance. Complicated. Full of goodbyes and reunions and making the most of limited time. But it worked. Against all odds, despite the deployments and the danger and the two careers that should have made a relationship impossible, they'd made it work.
And they'd keep making it work. One visit at a time. One deployment at a time. One mission at a time.
Whatever it took.
Because some things were worth fighting for. Some people were worth the distance and the worry and the complicated logistics.
Logan was worth it. They were worth it.
And that was enough.
Fort Liberty - Two Weeks Later
Logan finished packing his deployment gear and checked his phone one last time. Mara had sent a message an hour ago. "Be safe. Come home. I'll be waiting."
He'd responded immediately. "Always. Love you."
Now his team was loading onto the C-17 for the flight to Afghanistan.
Hawk was doing final checks. Bulldog was giving him grief about the amount of time Logan spent on his phone.
Ghost was coordinating communications protocols.
Risk was triple-checking medical supplies.
Joker was complaining about the MRE selection.
Normal. Routine. The kind of pre-deployment chaos Logan had experienced hundreds of times.
But something was different this time. Logan was leaving someone behind. Someone who mattered. Someone who'd be worried until he came home. Someone he'd miss every day he was gone.
"You good?" Hawk asked, coming over.
"Yeah. Good." Logan shouldered his pack. "Just thinking."
"About Mara?"
"About how much easier this used to be. When I didn't have someone waiting for me to come back."
Hawk smiled. "Easier maybe. But not better. Having someone worth coming home to, that makes you sharper. More focused. More determined to survive." He clapped Logan's shoulder. "You've been different the last six months. Better. The team's noticed."
"Different how?"
"Lighter. Like you finally figured out there's more to life than just the mission." Hawk headed for the aircraft. "Come on. Let's go do our job so you can come home to her."
Logan climbed aboard the C-17 and found his seat. As the aircraft taxied for takeoff, he pulled out his phone one last time before they'd be out of range. Sent Mara a final message.
"Wheels up. Talk to you when I can. Love you more than beignets."
Her response came as the plane started moving. "That's a lot. Love you more than bayou sunrises. Come home to me."
"Always."
The plane lifted off and Logan watched North Carolina disappear below. Ahead was Afghanistan. Four to six weeks of operations. Of danger and adrenaline and the work he'd trained his whole life to do.
But after that was home. Was Mara. Was a trip somewhere they could just be together. Was a future that looked different than he'd imagined but better than he'd hoped.
He'd come home. He always came home.
And this time, he had even more reason to make sure he did.