Laying me down gently on the bed, he was immediately on top of me, both of us completely overwhelmed with the sudden, desperate need to get each other out of all of our clothes. If I thought Logan was hungry for this in Breckenridge, he was now a man who was completely, utterly starved.
As I lay naked before him, his eyes raked over my entire body. “You are so perfect, sweetheart.” And then he was eagerly pressing himself against me, sliding inside of me in the sweetest, most delicious relief. His mouth came down to kiss my lips, my neck, my shoulder, as the rhythm of his movements drove me completely insane.
His flames stroked against my body, licking my skin until I couldn’t take it anymore. I was an inferno in his arms, pinned to the bed by the weight of his hips. He looked at me, grinning like a devil at the obscene sounds that he was bringing out of me, and within moments of watching him watch me, I completely caught fire.
As I was wholly ignited, riding a high that was unlike anything I imagined could be real, I heard the words I’d been waiting my entire life to hear. “I love you, Amelia.” I opened my eyes to see the beautiful man above me—my best friend—and watched as he, too, burned for me.
Hours later,we were still wrapped around each other. The combination of his pillows and thick white duvet swallowed us whole, cocooning us from the rest of the world in absolute bliss. Logan was playing with strands of my hair as we quietly existed—simply, irrevocably together.
“Move in with me,” Logan whispered into my hair. I felt the warmth of his breath curve around my neck, lighting up my arms with goosebumps.
I paused, soaking in the question.Did I hear that correctly?“What?”
He squeezed my hip with his hand as his thumb stroked the dimple at my back. “Move in with me.” His voice was velvet, soft and delicate around my freshly stitched heart.
I turned my body, detangling my legs from his as I looked at him in question. “You want me to move in with you?”
His eyes were sure, his face almost completely relaxed except for the little ribbons of vulnerability tracing around his eyes. He placed his hand on my hip again, reassuring. “Yes. I can’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t.”
I felt the drumbeat of my heart igniting. “You can’t?” My voice was careful.
He blinked once before his eyes lowered to my mouth, to my jaw, my collarbone and back up to my eyes. “Nope. Can you?”
I considered this. It had only been a week and a half, but Logan was the most sure thing I’d ever felt in my entire life. The thought sent a further pounding in my chest. “No,” I finally responded.
His eyes flashed darker, the hand on my hip sliding up to settle on my ribcage. The pad of his thumb stroking along the curve beneath my breast. He bent his head down to softly kiss my shoulder, and then buried his nose into my neck where he breathed me in. “Then it’s settled. You’re moving in with me.” I felt his teeth skate across my skin before his soft lips covered the sensitive spot below my ear, causing my mind to go blank. “Okay?”
Logan pushed himself up to his elbows, hovering over me as his hips again settled between my legs. He looked down at me through heavy lids. I felt a deep desire to count his eyelashes. “Okay?” he asked again, bending down again to kiss me on my collarbone, lazily moving his mouth across my chest.
I felt my mouth go dry, the saliva on my tongue thick and sticking to the roof of my mouth. A familiar tension began pulling low, deep in my tummy. “Okay,” I whispered, closing my eyes. My body was entirely focused on the movement of his mouth as it began to tease my aching nipple. I was completely full of desire for him. Full of need for this. He hummed his appreciation as I curled my hands into his hair.
His glittering golden eyes found mine, full of promise and unrestrained joy.I’m happy, they said, and it made my chest squeeze. And then we sealed the moment with a kiss.
Epilogue
LOGAN, SIX MONTHS LATER
It was already a burninghot day, and it was only nine in the morning. Despite my shower over an hour ago, sweat was already making my shirt stick to my skin, and I knew I would definitely have to shower again before the chaos started later.
The street in front of the house was quiet—in the thirty minutes or so that I’d been sitting out here, I’d only seen one neighbor from a few houses down come out to retrieve his newspaper. After a quick, neighborly wave to each other through the distance, Mr. Jimenez retreated back inside, shutting his door firmly behind him.
Since then, there’d been no movement in my line of sight, unless you counted the birds flying around overhead. It was peaceful, and I always found myself thankful in times like this. Times of quiet and calm. I watched as the bright purple blooms of the wisteria tree in the front lawn swayed in the morning breeze.
Beside me on the porch swing, Hook was snoring loudly, enjoying an early nap. We’d gotten up at the crack of dawn this morning to go for a run, and now he was enjoying his post-exercise slumber. I rubbed my hand along his back, working his muscles with a massage. I always found myself thankful for him, too. Since the day I rescued him, he’d been a loyal, dedicated wingman.
I adopted him specifically because I knew I needed something to love. I knew that, after working so hard to set up the shop and getting that piece of my life up and standing, I needed to start preparing for another major piece that—despite my raging, almost debilitating fears—I’d always secretly prayed like hell for.
Family.
Coming from a home like mine, I didn’t learn shit about how to be a good man. I didn’t learn how to be a loving husband, and I definitely didn’t learn how to be a strong and stable father. Thankfully, the Campbells stepped in when they did and became enough to fill that void. Richard was—and still is—a great example of a good man, and Liz was a much-needed mother figure that I would have never had, otherwise.
A million thank-yous would never even scratch the surface of the depths of my appreciation for them in my life. But as I started to put down my own roots, the roots of a Davis man, I knew that I’d need all the help I could get to learn true patience, trust, and unconditional love. Those things were hard for me because they were tangled up inside of so much fear and doubt in my ability to do things right. I wanted nothing more than to be a damn good man, but I was scared to death that I would fuck it up. That I would turn intohim.
Adopting Hook threw me into the trenches of an opportunity to learn, and his impact on my life was incredible. Because of him, I started to believe in myself. Within minutes of meeting him, I was wrapped around his little paw. I felt myself constantly worried about his happiness, his comfort, that it became apparent that I—at least for this crazy ass dog—had what it took. My dedication to him, to his handicap and to his quality of life, allowed me to prove to myself that I really can love something. Even love someone.
“Whatcha doing out there, handsome?” I heard her sweet voice from the screen door, and instantly felt my breath hitch. After all this time, she still had that effect on me.
“Thinking about you,” I responded honestly, and looked over my shoulder at Amelia’s face through the screen panel. She rolled her eyes—always so damn sassy—before she pushed open the door and stepped out onto the porch. Her bare legs were heaven from beneath one of my old T-shirts—the one she’d slept in last night—and her long dark hair was a tangled mess. My girl, the late sleeper. The beat of my heart. The most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
