Logan (Wild Boys After Dark, #1)

Logan got out of the car and opened her door.

“And you’re a gentleman.” She smiled up at him, looking markedly less worried than she’d been moments before. Logan knew she was good at slipping in and out of the armor she wore in public, and he wasn’t buying the no-fear mask she was wearing.

“I guess my mama raised her boys right.” He reached for her hand and helped her from the car, then retrieved her bags. He had everything he needed at the cabin, from clothing to tactical gear and equipment.

Out of habit, he scanned the area as they ascended the steps to the wraparound porch.

“I bet this place is gorgeous in the daylight.”

“Night or day, if you ask me.” Logan pushed the door open and scanned the interior. It was a simple cabin with a bedroom on either end, a small kitchen to the left, and a wood-burning stove surrounded by stone just beyond. Reclaimed barn wood lined the far wall. Logan watched Stormy take in the leather recliners in the living room and the old leather sofa beside the stove. Her boots resounded on the hardwood floors.

“This is exactly how I pictured you’d live.” She ran her hand over the marble countertops in the kitchen. “I love how you’ve combined old barn wood with higher-end elements, and the stainless-steel stove and fridge are a nice touch.”

“Careful. Your interior decorator side is showing.”

She smiled. “So important PI stuff included digging up my career?”

“Just a little.” He didn’t want her to feel too exposed, but he wanted her to know that he wasn’t oblivious to who she was, so he turned the conversation from her back to the cabin. “My father had a thing for stone. Probably because he could never afford it.” Talking about his father made his muscles cord tight, and he didn’t know what possessed him to mention his father to Stormy.

He’d bought the property after he’d returned to civilian life, as a place where he could escape the guilt of not being there when his parents needed him. Finding out that guilt stayed with him like white on rice was a harsh reality he’d still not gotten used to. He’d added the stone at the last minute. His father was the hardest-working man Logan had ever known, though he’d never made much money. Logan had carried one image of his father with him for years. They’d just arrived at Hal Braden’s ranch in Weston, Colorado, for him and his brothers to work for a few weeks. Hal was a hulking man at six foot six, with shoulders as wide as a doorframe. His father had walked inside beneath Hal’s big arm, the two men looking as close as brothers. Logan’s father had turned to him and said, When you build a home, son, do as Hal did. Use stone and wood. Stone for solidity and stability and wood for compassion and warmth.

He felt the walls closing in on him with the memory and escaped to the bedroom off to the left, where he shrugged Stormy’s bags onto the bed. He’d never brought any women to the cabin before. But it had been the first and only place that had come to mind with Stormy. He decided not to dissect that too closely as he watched her through the open bedroom door. She bent to remove her boots, and he tried not to stare, or let his mind wander too far, but seeing her bent at the waist conjured up all sorts of lewd thoughts. He shifted his eyes away.

She’s got a guy after her and you’re thinking of fucking her. Real nice, Logan.

“That’s better.” She carried her boots to the mat by the door and wrinkled her brow. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Logan shook off his lustful haze and joined her in the living room. She sank into the sofa with a sigh and closed her eyes. He paced, too revved up to sit still.

Stormy patted the sofa beside her. “Sit down. You’re making me nervous. I thought you said we were safe here.”

“We are.” He stopped pacing and crossed his arms. Her eyelids were heavy as she curled her feet up beside her and slid a little lower, resting her head on the cushion.

“Then why do you look like a puma guarding its territory? Your shoulders are tight, and you’re probably going to crack your teeth you’re clenching them so hard.”

He smiled at her observation. What she didn’t see were the thoughts racing through his mind. The battle between right and wrong. His emotions had already jumped over the invisible line, and he was doing all he could to get back on the right side of it.

“The sheets on the bed are clean if you want to rest.” It had been about a two-hour drive from the city, and after working all day and not getting much sleep the night before, she had to be exhausted.

“Are you kidding? How can I sleep knowing you’re out here stalking around?”