He was handsome. She'd known that intellectually but seeing him healthy, smiling, looking at her through the screen with those dark eyes that seemed to see right through her defenses, made her stomach flip.
"You clean up nice," she said.
"You're beautiful," he replied without hesitation. "I mean, I knew that. But seeing you like this, not in tactical gear, not in the middle of a firefight. You're really beautiful."
Mara felt heat creep up her neck. "You're not so bad yourself."
"Not so bad. That's what every guy wants to hear." But he was grinning.
They talked for two hours that night. Longer than Mara should have stayed up. Longer than was smart when she had a 0600 briefing. But she couldn't make herself end the call. Couldn't make herself say goodbye when Logan was right there, looking at her like she was the most interesting thing in his world.
About nothing and everything. The conversation flowing as easily as it did over text but with the added dimension of seeing each other's faces. Watching expressions change. Seeing smiles form and eyes light up. It felt intimate in a way that made Mara both nervous and hopeful.
"I should let you sleep," Logan said finally, even though neither of them moved to end the call.
"Yeah. Probably." But she didn't want to go.
"When can we do this again?"
"I don't know. This week is crazy. We have three operations running and I'm point on two of them." She saw something flicker across his face. Disappointment he tried to hide. "But I'll make time. I promise."
"Don't promise if you can't keep it. I'd rather you be honest."
"I want to keep it. I just don't know when I'll have time."
"Then whenever you have time, I'll be here."
They managed one more video call that week. Then Mara went dark for three days during the Miami operation. No texts. No calls. Just radio silence while she and the team extracted two teenage girls from a trafficking ring that had gone violent.
When she finally checked her phone on day four, there were twenty-seven messages from Logan. The first dozen were normal. Updates. Thoughts. Random observations. The second dozen got more worried. "You okay?" "Haven't heard from you." "Getting concerned." The last few were just "Please let me know you're alive."
She called him immediately. Video. He answered on the first ring.
"You're okay," he said, relief flooding his face.
"I'm okay. I'm sorry. Operation went longer than expected and I couldn't make contact."
"Don't apologize. Just. Fuck, Mara. Three days of nothing and my brain goes to bad places."
"I know. I'm sorry." She paused. "This is the job, Logan. Sometimes I go dark. Sometimes I can't explain why or for how long. You know how it is. Can you handle that?"
He was quiet for a moment. "Yeah. I can handle it. Just. Maybe a heads up when you can? Even just 'going dark' so I know it's planned and not because something went wrong?"
"I can do that."
"Good. Because the alternative is me having a panic attack every time you don't respond for twelve hours."
She almost smiled. "You're dramatic."
"I'm realistic. You do dangerous work. I know that. I just need to know you're coming back."
"I always come back."
"Like you came back for me?"
"Exactly like that."
Week six, Logan's tone shifted. Still playful, still easy, but with an undercurrent of something more serious.
