Page 49 of Love in the Time of Wildfires

“You wanna get out of here?” he asked, hoping—no, begging in his soul—she would say yes.

“Yeah.” It was straight to the point, and it was all he needed to hear as he took her hand and they slipped out of the lodge without making the rounds to say goodbye. Logan didn’t want to waste time and doubted anyone noticed their absence. He wasn’t exactly a good time party guy—never had been. Who cared?

Outside, the evening air was warm and had never smelled so good. It was as if the whole world had heated up, letting the earthy scent from the pine and moss and dirt remind him of how connected he was to all of it. Also, he liked how her delicate but strong hand felt in his. For one moment, everything was right in the world.

“Oh. What about your plaque?” she asked.

Except he’d left with the only prize he wanted. All the other stuff didn’t matter. “I have everything I need,” he responded, and River smiled shyly. If he wasn’t mistaken, a shiver passed through her.

“Are you cold?” Besides the two tiny straps at the top of her dress, she was bare on her shoulders.

She smiled, her eyes briefly meeting his before darting away again. “No.”

Halfway to his car, she asked, “Is it okay if I drive us?”

While he felt loose, slightly buzzed from the drinks, he didn’t feel impaired, but if it would make her feel better, he didn’t have a problem with it. “Sure.” Logan reached into his pockets, retrieving his keys to surrender them. “Do you remember how to get back?”

“I think I can figure it out.” She drove them to the apartment building, and perhaps it was for the best. Even if he didn’t consider himself drunk, he had a tough time focusing on anything but her. He might have run the car off the road because he couldn’t keep his eyes forward. Not impaired by alcohol as much as he was impaired by her.

Logan had no idea what would happen once they arrived home, but his imagination hoped there would be more kissing if nothing else. Of course, his body begged for more, his clothes already stifling and in need of removal. His fingers itched to touch her, and he tried taking controlled breaths to regulate his heart rate, because the organ was in danger of beating out of control. Luckily, it wasn’t a long drive.

After parking, they walked side by side—neither one said a word, as though not wanting to risk cutting into the tension flourishing between them. Instead, they took turns sneaking glances at one another. As much as he wanted things to burn up between them, he also appreciated this building anticipation, like this was leading somewhere good—somewhere he hadn’t been in a while.

At the top of the stairs, they leaned on their respective sides of the stair railing, staring at each other. Neither one seemed to be brave enough to push things where they wanted this to go. The buzzing attraction between them was too strong to fight against, and he didn’t want to try anymore.

“Ask me to come in,” he said in a low voice, his nerves shooting through his veins like electricity.

“If you want it so bad, why don’t you ask for it yourself?” she replied with a sly raise of an eyebrow.

Logan pushed away from his side, bringing his body near hers, his arms locking onto the railing around her. He wasn’t touching her, although he ached for it, and instead surround her, breathing lightly on her temple as he asked, “Can I come in?”

River kept her eyes averted from his but smoothed a hand down the center of his chest as though straightening the button placket of his shirt. “If I invite you in, it’s not going to be nothing, Logan. Understand?”

They’d classified their first kiss in the forest as nothing. Logan understood she was warning him that this wouldn’t be one of those times. This would be something. And now was his opportunity to step away from it if he couldn’t handle that. Strangely, Logan had no desire to run, because today he was tired of having nothing.

He wanted something.

Logan especially wanted it with the woman who made him happy to come home rather than getting more work hours. Though he worried that he or the job would find a way to screw everything up and ruin the one good thing he had in his life, he wasn’t willing to search that far into the future. His brain focused on the here and now. Deep down he knew it wasn’t fair, but this didn’t stop him from replying, “Okay.”

Those dark eyes of hers studied him, probably to see if he did get it. “Okay,” she finally responded, to his relief, taking his hand and leading him the rest of the way to what he imagined was promised sanctuary inside of her apartment.

Even with all the privacy in the world it was hard to make the next move—he couldn’t just tackle her as soon as they were inside the door. It made it more difficult because River went straight into her galley-style kitchen, opening the fridge. He could see his picture had been returned to its surface.

“You want some water or something?” She pulled out a bottle from the fridge, offering it to him. Following her lead, he took it because he didn’t know what else to do. It was obvious they were both anxious about the situation. He snapped the lid open, taking a greedy sip before saying, “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I’ve only ever been with my ex, and we were together since the end of high school,” she blurted.

Logan almost choked on his second sip of water, working hard to get the liquid down the correct pipe. Not because of anything she said but only because she had no qualms putting it all out there. He set the bottle on the countertop, leaning against the edge. Logan wasn’t going to ask, because it would make an awkward situation more so, but he was curious what her ex had done for her, only because he wanted to do it better. “Do you still want this?”

“Yes.” While the word was soft, barely a whisper, there was conviction in it.

Not wasting any more time, he wrapped an arm around her waist, lifting her onto the countertop, pressing his mouth to hers. The kiss was scorching, instantly hungry. He wedged his body between her legs to position himself closer, liking how she weaved her limbs around him. She tilted her head, plunging her tongue in his mouth, moaning while doing so, and he was pretty sure he was about to combust.

“Tell me what you need,” he asked when parting for a breath.

“Touch me.” It was a low, needy reply.

With his hands already on her waist, he was technically already touching her, but he took a chance, sliding one along the inside of her thighs, the skin soft even through his callouses. Though the black dress was body-hugging, he discovered the fabric had stretch, and it was short, allowing him to reach the warm fabric between her legs. He only had to touch her there to send her body bowing toward him, her arms around his neck tightening. His own body reacted to hers, every muscle tightening with unspent energy.