“You’re a great nurse,” I said, brushing her hair back.
Logan watched us, something unreadable in his expression, before his voice dropped, gently. “Do you need your medicine? Or do you need me to run out and get you something else?”
“I mostly just use heat and rest,” I said. “It passes.”
He nodded, clearly holding back the instinct todo something. Instead of jumping into action, he carefully adjustedthe blanket around me, tucking it in just right. That was who he was, always fixing, always protecting.
Harper wriggled between us again, clutching her new dolphin. “Daddy, look what we named him! Sir Wiggle Fin the Third!”
“That’s a strong name,” he said, grinning. “Very noble.”
“Harper picked it,” I added, smiling faintly.
“Of course she did,” he said. “Sounds exactly like her.”
She giggled, oblivious to the soft tension between us.
“Okay,” Logan said after a moment. “How about you finish the movie with Dani while I unpack and get cleaned up?”
Harper frowned. “But we already saw the good part!”
“Then maybe we can make popcorn and start something new,” he suggested. “But only if she feels up to it.” Looking to me for affirmation.
I smiled weakly. “Popcorn sounds great.”
He hesitated before standing. “You sure you’re okay?”
“I promise,” I said. “I just need a little time with my heating pad.”
He gave me a look that said he didn’t quite believe me but respected my stubbornness anyway.
“Alright. Holler if you need anything.”
As he disappeared down the hall, Harper snuggled back into my side, whispering, “I told you Daddy would come back soon.”
I smiled, brushing a hand through her loose curls. “You were right.”
By the time Logan returned, I’d shifted to sit a little straighter. He’d changed into jeans and a worn T-shirt, hair damp from a quick shower, looking far too good for a man who’s been traveling all day.
As he came back into the living room, he handed me a cup of chamomile tea without a word.
“You didn’t have to—”
“It’s fine,” he said simply, sitting across from me on the edge of the coffee table.
The warmth of the mug seeped into my palms, and suddenly my throat tightened with an unexpected tenderness. It had been a long time since someone noticed what I needed without asking.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He shrugged, though his gaze softened. “You’ve taken care of her. The least I can do is take care of you for a minute.”
I smiled, caught somewhere between gratitude and something deeper. “Well, you’re doing a pretty good job already.”
“Good,” he said. “Because I was starting to feel like a stranger in my own house.”
“You’re definitely not that,” I said, meeting his eyes. “She’s been talking about you nonstop. And, uh… well, I have too.”
That earned a slow, quiet smile. “Yeah?”
