Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Logan
Sophie turns off the stove, waves the spatula like a sword, then stabs at the air. “Take that, you vile scum.”
This is the woman I remember from all those years ago: fiery, playful and full of life even when the world is pressing down on her. The sight of her like this, fighting back with humor instead of fear makes my respect for her grow even more. “What are you doing?”
Her face flushes. “Practicing.”
I probably shouldn’t ask, though I don’t think she means me. “For what?”
“I’m mad at Eli for involving my brothers. He needs to pay.” Her words are sharp. She stabs the air again. “If Nora finds out—”
“Jesse will take care of Nora.” I love to see Sophie’s fire return, even if it’s fueled by anger. Her eyes flash and her shoulders square, and I want to pull her close and never let go. “You planned to tell them anyway.”
“Yes, but on my time. Eli…”
“Cares about you.”
She shrugs. “He should mind his own business.”
“When has any Wilde minded their own business?”
Sophie opens her mouth then closes it.
“You’ll get over it and so will they,” I add. “That’s what family does.”
She tilts her head, nods, and puts the spatula into the sink.
I pull the meat off the grill, and we eat at the table.
I wait to see if she says anything, but she focuses on her plate.
I get it. She has a lot going on. The silence is comfortable, and this is the domestic scene I’ve dreamed of for years.
If only Sophie was here by choice and not circumstance.
The thought sits heavy in my chest, but I push it down. Right now, keeping her safe is what matters.
Afterwards, we wash the dishes. Well, Sophie washes. I dry. Again, I get the feeling that this is what has been missing from the cabin and my life, her presence filling the quiet space.
She hands me a plate. “We make a good team.”
“We do.” And I’ll do what it takes to make us a permanent team. That’s what I’ve wanted for years.
She motions to the sink. “But a nice kitchen needs a real dishwasher.”
“Noted.” Once Volkov is arrested, I’ll order one from Eli’s store. I had this place built with Sophie in mind. I should’ve realized she’d want a dishwasher, but it’s only ever me here so washing by hand never bothered me. Now I want every comfort for her.
My phone rings. Sophie stills, her shoulders going tight.
I glance at the screen, and my pulse ratchets. “It’s Reeves.”
Her smile looks forced. “Good news, I hope.”
“Let’s find out.” I answer. “King.”
“The judge signed the warrant. Know you can handle this, but I’ll be there in the morning so we can take Volkov back with us.”
We as in Reeves won’t be coming to Lush Hollow alone. The more the merrier. “Thanks, man.”
“Hold the line tonight.”
I give Sophie the thumbs up sign. “I will. See you tomorrow.”
The line disconnects. “The warrant’s been signed.”
As she leans against the counter, I fire off a quick text to her brothers and Eli. “Family updated.”
Sophie exhales, but instead of relief, her eyes look glassy, like she’s barely holding herself together.
I set the phone down and move to her. She meets me halfway. Her hands fist my shirt as her mouth finds mine, a little desperate.
I lift her onto the counter. Her legs wrap around my waist, and the heat of her pressed against me nearly shorts out my brain. Her body against mine like this after all these years is almost too much.
“Bedroom,” she whispers against my lips.
I pull back to see her face. “You sure this is the right time?”
“Logan King.” Her voice is steady even if her hands aren’t. “I’ve been waiting since I was nineteen. Longer considering my crush on you. Tonight is the right time.”
Thank God.
I carry her down the hall, something I’ve imagined doing since the summer she left for Seattle. In the bedroom, I set her on her feet and cup her face in both hands. “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she whispers. “But… can we go slow?”
“Yeah, baby. We can go as slow as you need.”
I kiss her, loving how she melts into me. Then I trail my mouth along her jaw and down her neck to the spot where her pulse jumps under my lips. She moans, soft and surprised, and I file that spot away, committing every reaction to memory.
My fingers find the buttons of her shirt. One by one, I undo them, watching her face. She doesn’t stop me. The fabric parts, revealing smooth skin and a simple bra. I push the shirt off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
“Beautiful.” My hand slides over the soft curve of her stomach. “I’ve wanted you for so damn long, Sophie.”
She sucks in a shaky breath. “Before we do this… I should tell you something.”
I still, searching her face.
“I’ve never done this before.”
The words hit me like a quiet thunderclap. Twenty-eight. Gorgeous. Funny. Strong. And she waited… for me.
“Sophie…” I raise her hand to my mouth and kiss each knuckle. “I’ll make it good for you. I promise. We do this your way. You say stop, we stop.”
“I don’t want to stop. I want you to keep going.”
I do, but I take it slow, worshipping every inch of her like she deserves.
I kiss along her collarbone, the hollow of her throat, then reach behind her and unhook her bra.
It slides down her arms. Full, soft breasts, the gentle dip of her waist, the freckle under her ribs.
Every inch of her is better than any dream I’ve had.
My hands tremble slightly as I touch her, reverent and careful.
“You’re gorgeous,” I say.
She laughs a little, breathless. “When I said slow, I didn’t mean glacial.”
I grin and ease her back onto the bed. I peel her jeans and plain white panties down her legs. She lifts her hips to help, trusting me. The sight of her bare and open for me makes my chest tighten.
I kneel between her thighs. “Still okay?”
“Yes.”
I taste her, sweet and addictive. She gasps when my tongue finds her clit.
I keep every stroke slow and gentle, learning what makes her breath hitch and what makes her fingers slide into my hair and tug.
When her hips roll, I add one finger, then two, moving carefully, enjoying every sound she makes.
“Logan…” Her voice breaks.
“I’ve got you. Let go whenever you’re ready.”
She comes with my name on her lips, thighs trembling around my shoulders, and her back arching off the bed. I stay with her through every pulse, kissing her hip, her stomach, her breasts, until she’s breathing again, her body soft and pliant under my hands.
Sophie looks at me like I’ve rewritten her world.
I brush damp hair off her forehead. “Still with me?”
“More,” she whispers. “Please.”
I grab a condom from the nightstand and roll it on while she watches, her eyes dark with want. Then I settle over her, bracing my weight on my elbows so I can stay close. “Tell me if it hurts or if you need to stop. Anytime.”
She nods, her lips parted.
I position myself at her entrance and push in, barely an inch. She tenses, her breath catching sharply.
I freeze. “Right here with you. We can stop.”
“No… just… stay close.”
I lower my forehead to hers, one hand cradling the back of her head. “I’m not going anywhere, Sophie. You’re safe.”
After a few breaths, she relaxes. “More.”
I give her another inch, then another, moving so slowly it tests every bit of control I have. She’s impossibly tight, hot, perfect. When I’m finally all the way inside her, I hold still, letting her adjust, my chest pressed to hers.
“You’re doing so good,” I whisper against her temple. “So perfect.”
She exhales a shaky laugh and rocks her hips experimentally. Pleasure flashes across her face. “Logan… move.”
We find a steady rhythm. Her nails dig into my back, and her legs wrap tighter around me.
I slide a hand between us and circle her clit with my thumb. “Right here?”
“Don’t stop… please…”
She tightens around me, crying out as she comes again. The feel of her pulsing around me snaps what’s left of my control. I bury my face in her neck and follow her over, groaning her name against her skin.
As our breaths settle, I kiss her hair, her temple, and her shoulder. Then I ease out of her carefully, dispose of the condom, and come back with a warm washcloth. She lets me clean her, quiet and trusting, even though she rarely allows anyone to take care of her.
When I slide back under the quilt and pull her against my chest, she tucks her face into my neck.
I stroke her hair. “How are you?”
“That was… everything.” Her voice is soft, full of awe.
“For me too.”
She falls asleep first, breathing slow and even against my skin, smelling like vanilla and sex and home. I stay awake long after, just feeling her there, my heart fuller than it has ever been.
Mine. And one day soon, I’ll tell her.