The afternoon air moved over them, cooling the sweat on their skin. Rachel shivered slightly, and he pulled her in tighter, sharing his warmth. One of his hands moved up to cradle the back of her head, fingers tangling gently in her hair.
They sat like that for a while, just breathing together. The ocean sound drifted up from below, waves hitting the rocks in steady rhythm. A constant, soothing backdrop to their own breathing, their own heartbeats gradually returning to normal.
Rachel's hands traced over his shoulders, down his arms, mapping the muscles and scars she'd felt but not really looked at. Her fingertips found the raised line of an old knife wound on his bicep. Another scar across his collarbone. Evidence of a life lived in danger, in violence.
But his touch on her was nothing but gentle.
"Thank you," she murmured against his neck.
His hand stilled on her back. "For what?"
"For this. For letting me..." She searched for the right words. "For letting me take what I needed."
His arms tightened around her. He pressed his lips to her hair, breathing her in. "Always, baby. Always."
Rachel's throat went tight. She burrowed closer, her face tucking into the curve of his neck where she could feel his pulse beating strong and steady beneath her lips.
His hand moved up her back again, those slow, soothing strokes. His lips found her collarbone, pressing soft kisses along the line of it. His breath was warm against her skin, steady now instead of the ragged gasps from before.
The tremble in his muscles had faded. He was solid beneath her, a foundation she could lean on.
He pulled back just enough to see her face. His hand came up to cup her cheek, thumb brushing gently across her cheekbone. His eyes searched hers, intense and unwavering.
Then his voice came, low and certain. "Mine."
Rachel's chest squeezed. She smiled, leaning into his touch, her body still molded perfectly to his.
"Yours," she whispered. And she meant every word.
His eyes darkened, fierce and possessive. He pulled her in and kissed her again, harder this time, deeper, with purpose. Claiming her mouth the way he'd claimed her body. The way he'd claimed all of her.
When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard again.
"Say it again," he demanded.
"Yours," Rachel repeated, holding his gaze. "I'm yours, Logan."
"Damn right you are." His forehead dropped to hers. "And I'm not letting you go. Not ever."
"Good." She smiled against his lips. "Because I'm not going anywhere."
They stayed like that, wrapped around each other under the afternoon sun, the ocean breeze cooling their skin. Eventually they'd have to move. Eventually they'd have to face tomorrow and all the complications that came with Hale still out there, with Rachel's exposé making them both targets.
But for now, in this moment, there was just the two of them. Connected. Healing. Whole.
And that was enough.
60
The parking lot outside HQ on base was already baking under the early sun, heat rising from the asphalt in visible waves. Ghost's truck pulled into the far row, gravel crunching beneath the tires as he rolled to a stop beside the convoy of government-plated SUVs. The rest of the team was already there, Torch and Reaper leaning against the hood of one vehicle, talking quietly. Predator sat on a tailgate with a water bottle, Echo beside him scrolling through his phone. Brick, Rogue, and Frost waiting in the shade by the building, Bear sitting on a concrete barrier looking relaxed.
"Any idea what the hell this is about?" Brick asked, tossing a bottle of water to Predator.
Predator caught it, twisted off the cap, and drank. "We rattled cages."
Bear straightened up from where he'd been leaning against the hood of a blacked-out Suburban. "Smart move bringing Rachel,"he said, nodding toward the passenger side of Ghost's truck as the engine cut off.
Ghost stepped out first, slamming the door shut behind him. "Yeah. Like I'm gonna leave her alone while Hale is still breathing."
