“Who’s joking? This thing is basically a gateway drug to early retirement and marital discord.” Logan tears the thing to pieces before tossing it into the recycling bin with a sigh of satisfaction. “Crisis averted. No cruises, no wanderlust, no divorce, no Demetri.”
“Hopefully.”
“Definitely. And now that we’ve successfully prevented the apocalypse through mail fraud,” Logan continues, his voice taking on a playful edge, “I think it’s time for your punishment.”
I blink at him. “My what?”
Logan’s smile turns predatory in the best possible way, his eyes reflecting the strange lavender glow filtering through the fog. “You just committed a federal crime, Mrs. Oliver. That requires some serious discipline.”
“What kind of discipline?” I ask, biting down a smile.
“The kind that happens in the butterfly room.”
“Logan Oliver, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“I’m suggesting that someone needs to teach you the error of your criminal ways,” he says, taking me by the hand and pulling me back toward the house. “Very thoroughly. In a room full of magical butterflies that will probably explode when we?—”
“But what if I come home from school early?” I say with a laugh.
“The past version of you is at school for the next five hours, and that’s before cheer practice.” Logan pulls me close, that lusty gleam in his eyes looking far more dangerous than that dirty grin on his face. “We have the house completely to ourselves.”
“This is a terrible idea,” I tease.
“The best ideas usually are.”
“Where have I heard that before?” I muse.
The butterfly room welcomes us like an old friend, and no sooner do we seal ourselves inside than those electric blue butterflies flutter to life.
“They seem to remember us,” I say, landing on his lap as he pulls us to the floor.
“They had better. We’ve put on quite the show a time or two.” He kisses the back of my hand before trailing kisses all the way up to my neck. “This room has seen some of our most important moments.”
“And it’s about to see another one.”
He tips his head to the side and examines me with a lopsided grin. “We defeated the Counts and your mother. I think it’s time to celebrate.”
“I’ve never been more motivated to party.”
This room has always been magical, but with Logan here, with the butterflies dancing in the air like living sapphires, it feels like something out of a fairy tale.
Logan’s lips meet mine with a hunger that speaks of all the fear and uncertainty we’ve been carrying, all the desperate need to reconnect after everything we’ve been through. His hands slide intomy hair, tilting my head to deepen the kiss, and I melt into him like I was made for this exact moment.
The butterflies swirl around us in spirals of electric blue light, their glow intensifying as Logan’s hands find the hem of my shirt. When he breaks the kiss to pull the fabric over my head, I’m breathing hard, and my skin feels like it’s on fire in the very best way.
“I’ve learned something important today,” I say as I land a kiss on his lips.
“What’s that?”
“Some crimes are definitely worth committing.”
“Good. Because I have a feeling this won’t be our last federal offense.”
“Probably not,” I agree with a laugh. “But at least we’ll face prosecution together.”
Logan agrees, pressing a kiss on the top of my head. “Always together.”
Some truths can only be taught in whispers among the soft flutter of butterfly wings, where love becomes a language that doesn’t need words.
