Heat Wave

“I have I just…” I can’t believe it. That’s what it is.

Logan grabs my hand, squeezing it. “It’s a lot to take in, but while you’ve been thinking I’m over in Kauai and forgetting about you, I’ve been working my ass off in order to bring you back. And I have. There is nothing to fear anymore, not for you, not for me. There isn’t a single tie between your parents and I anymore. There’s nothing but ocean.” He sighs and tilts his head, studying me with warm eyes. “It’s going to be okay, Ron. From this moment on, it’s going to be okay.”

It still takes time for it all to sink in.

Freedom.

So much freedom.

Logan owns Moonwater. He owns his pride and joy. He did it to save himself, to save me. There’s no one that can stop us, no one to hold anything over our heads.

Except my parents. But their threats have no meaning anymore.

I wonder if that was what my dad wanted to talk to me in private about. It has to be. He was going to tell me that Moonwater now belonged to Logan.

And then what?

“Did my dad know you were coming here?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No. I didn’t say anything about that. But I think he knows. Maybe not right away, but he knew why I bought them out. He knew I did it for you. And I think he knew that there wasn’t anything that would stand in my way until you were standing by my side.”

God. As if my heart couldn’t grow any bigger, it’s pressing against my chest, warm and glowing.

He did it for me.

“And it was worth it and then some,” Logan says. “As long as you come back with me.” He reaches into the pocket of his dark jeans and pulls out my ring. The sight of it floors me. “As long as you wear this again.” He pauses. “Do you want me to propose again? Because I thought the first time was pretty hard to beat.”

I laugh. Small at first, then a big belly laugh that rolls out of me. He’s laughing too, eyes crinkling in joy as he slides the ring on my left hand.

“Please, Veronica Locke,” he says, clearing his throat, the graveness coming back into his features. “Agree to…agree to marry me. Again.” He sighs, shaking his head. “See, that was bloody awful. Ruined it.”

I grab his hand, his face, stare up at him. “Yes, Logan Shephard, I agree to agree to marry you. Again.”

We kiss, smiling against each other’s mouth, feeling the joy course through my body like bubbles in fine champagne. If it weren’t for Logan’s strong arms around me, I swear my feet would be lifting off the ground.

But it isn’t as easy as the moment is leading me to believe. The joy of our love, our reunion, is overshadowing one more harsh reality.

This isn’t over.

We aren’t home free.

Not yet.

I break away, my heart picking up the pace. “We have to tell my parents. Together. In person.”

He nods. “I know. I wasn’t sure if you would be up for that. As you know, sometimes it’s easier to leave.”

I punch him in the shoulder. “Hey.”

He takes my punching hand, opens my palm, kisses it. “But if you’re ready, I’m more than ready. They won’t understand, you know this. And when your mother finds out she has nothing to hold over us, if she doesn’t already know, then she’s going to get ugly. I don’t want to put you in that situation if I don’t have to.”

I square my shoulders. “I’m ready. I’ve been waiting for this.”

Indeed, it feels like I’ve been waiting for it my whole life.

“Okay,” he says. “Look, I should get back to my hotel.”

I raise my brows. “Are you kidding me right now?”

He shrugs, a small smile on his lips. “Well, I don’t want to go back to my hotel.”

“You’re insane,” I tell him. “Insane and I love you for it.” I grab his hand and lead him toward my bedroom. “You’re staying here, with me, and we won’t be sleeping.”

I hope Claire has her earplugs in, because the moment I shut the door, we both fall into each other’s arms, fall into the bed, fall back into a love that never went away.

We spend time kissing each other, our mouths exploring each other’s bodies like we’re seeing them for the first time. Our fingers caress and tease, our eyes linger and stare. After being apart for so long, after thinking I might never see him again, I’m amazed at the restraint. Maybe because we know now why you need to hold onto every single second you’re with someone.

Eventually he climbs on top of me, his heavy weight pressed against my chest, my legs open for him, waiting, yearning. He pushes in, slow at first, a long, deliberate thrust that fills me up, filling the hollow places, making me feel like I’m finally whole.

We move in an easy, rocking rhythm, slow, sensual, his finger in my mouth, another hand at my breast. I suck, I moan, I lean back as his lips and teeth trail from my ear, down my neck, to my nipples. I’m being feasted on, slowly, beautifully.

When we come, we come together, gentle cries that fill the room, gripping each other like we’ll never let go. And I know I’ll never let go.

Not this time.

Not ever.