Not yet.
I needed space to think—to remember why I insisted on distance, why it felt safer than the mess closeness would bring.
Two weeks wasn’t forever.
But it would be the longest I’d ever been away from Harper
I stepped out of the truck and let the familiar weight of responsibility settle over me like armor. For the next few hours, I focused on perimeter checks and camera feeds, on protocols and contingencies. On things that didn’t ask anything of me emotionally.
But as the night stretched on and the monitors flickered absently in front of me, the image of her in my kitchen keptcoming back. The calm. The closeness. The way something in me had loosened before I could stop it.
And as I leaned back in the chair, exhaustion heavy in my bones, I had the uneasy sense that no matter what I chose next, something had already shifted.
And it didn’t feel like it was for the better.
Chapter 14
Dani
I hadn’t planned on staying longer than necessary.
That had become my unspoken rule over the last few days. I arrive just before dinner, stay present, be helpful, and leave before the evening settles into something that feels too intimate to misinterpret. It was easier that way. Safer. For him, and for me.
Still, the text caught me off guard.
Logan:Can you come by a
few minutes earlier today?
No explanation. Just a simple ask that somehow carried weight.
I reread it once, then twice, my chest growing heavy in that familiar way, the one that came from caring just a little more than I should. I told myself it was about Harper. It always was. That was the point of me being here.
But I grabbed my bag faster than usual anyway.
The drive over felt shorter, my thoughts louder. I tried to talk myself down as I parked by reminding myself that Logan wasn’t expressive by nature. That his version of urgency was probably just logistics, schedules, and work.
Still, when I stepped out of the car, I had that strange sense of stepping into something already in motion.
As I stepped onto the porch, the door swung open before I knocked.
“Darlin,” Logan said, smiling faintly. He was dressed down in jeans and a distressed T-shirt, one hand raking through his hair like he’d been doing a mental checklist for hours. Though he tried to school his features, it was clear that something was weighing on him.
Although it was subtle, it was unmistakable. His shoulders were tense, and his jaw set tighter than usual. The faint scruff along his jawline had darkened, like he’d skipped shaving more than once. And those dark circles under his eyes, the ones I’d noticed in passing before, were deeper now, shadowing the green of his gaze.
“You okay?” I asked automatically.
“Yeah,” he said. Then corrected himself. “I mean… yeah.”
That pause told me more than his words ever could.
Harper’s voice drifted from down the hall, humming to herself, blissfully unaware of the shift in the air. Logan stepped aside to let me in, and I followed him into the kitchen — that same space that already held more moments than it should after such a short time.
He leaned back against the counter, arms crossing like a shield. It was a posture I’d come to recognize — defensive, contained, controlled.
“I got an update from work today,” he said.
“Okay.”
