Despite everything, she almost smiled. "I'll try to stop catastrophizing."
"Better." He kissed her forehead, then took her hand again. "Come on. Let's get back."
39
The next evening, Rachel stood at the window overlooking the street. The sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. Across the street, an elderly woman in a floral blouse was tending to her garden, moving slowly but steadily among the rosebushes.
"That's Mrs. Chen," Ghost said from behind her, his voice soft. "She's lived here longer than anyone."
Rachel smiled, watching the woman's careful hands pruning spent blooms. "She seems sweet."
"She is." He moved to stand beside her, his hand finding the small of her back. "She bakes cookies every Christmas. Brings them to the whole block."
"Do you eat them?"
"Every year. She makes these chocolate chip ones with sea salt that are..." He made a chef's kiss gesture. "Incredible."
Rachel leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. She watched Mrs. Chen kneel carefully beside a bed of roses, her movements practiced despite her age. It was so normal. So peaceful. The life Rachel had never let herself imagine having.
"I like it here," she said quietly.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." She paused, feeling the weight of what she wanted to say. What she was admitting. "I like... this. Us."
His arm came around her, pulling her close. She felt him exhale, felt some of the tension leave his body.
"Me too," he said, his voice rough.
They stayed like that, watching the sun disappear below the horizon. Mrs. Chen finished with her roses and gathered her tools, heading back inside her house. A car passed by, headlights cutting through the growing dusk. Somewhere down the street, wind chimes sang in the evening breeze.
It felt like a moment suspended in time. Before tomorrow. Before the team came back and everything became operational. Before the danger became real in a way it hadn't been while they were hidden here.
Rachel turned in his arms, looking up at him. His eyes were already on her, dark and warm in the fading light.
"Logan," she whispered.
He cupped her face, fingers threading through her hair, then leaned down and kissed her, soft, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world even though they both knew they didn’t.
When he pulled back, he took her hand. "Come on baby."
He led her to the bedroom.
This time was different from the urgency of yesterday's shower, different from the desperate need of their first night. This was slower. Deliberate. Like they were both trying to memorize each other before everything changed.
Ghost undressed her carefully, his hands gentle as he pulled her shirt over her head, as he slid her shorts down her legs. He unhooked her bra and let it fall, then knelt to remove her underwear, the black lace pair he'd bought her yesterday. His eyes held hers the whole time, watching her face in the lamplight.
When she stood bare before him, he rose and just looked at her.
"I can't get over how beautiful you are, baby," he said quietly, his voice rough with emotion. "And that you're with me." His hand came up to cup her face, fingers threading through her hair. "Youcould have any man you want, and I'm the lucky bastard that gets to kiss you—"
He leaned in and kissed her lips, soft and reverent.
"—touch you—"
His mouth moved to her jaw, pressing a kiss there, lingering.
"—be inside you."
