by Lori Ryan
“I want to have babies with you. Lots of babies.”
Okay. Sam thought she heard that record scratching sound effect that indicated all humor had come to a complete and abrupt stop.
“What?”
Logan framed her face with his hands and licked his lips as though he might be nervous, but his eyes never left hers.
“I want to have babies with you. I want to marry you and love you and make babies with you. I want a life together, you and me.”
Sam swallowed. “Um, you want to love me or you do love me? I mean, just to clarify, because I just want to be really sure here, before I commit to lots of babies, and all. And, while we’re on that topic, how many is ’lots of babies‘? Because you get that I have to do all of that? All of the having, I mean. You get to do the fun part, and then, bam! It’s all on me. All the puking and the stretching and the pushing them out. All that. So I’m just wondering if you have a ballpark in mind for that. And if you really love me. I’m wondering that, too.”
The smile that spread over Logan’s features was slow and complete. It met his eyes and overtook them. It lit up his whole face and it made Sam’s breath catch in her throat.
“Yes, I love you, Sam. So completely. In a way I never knew was possible. And, I want as many babies as you want. And, I promise, I’ll be there with you all the way even though I can’t carry them. I’ll give you foot massages and buy you ice cream. I’ll even spoon-feed you the ice cream while you lie on the couch and relax, if you want me to.”
“Like, wait.” Sam took a deep breath. She was embarrassed to feel tears stinging her eyes and she blinked a few times. “You love me? Like, just me? The way I am? No strings attached. No changes you want me to make? Just me?”
Logan kissed her mouth, slow and sweet and gentle. Not the fire and passion his kisses normally held. This was love and tenderness and a promise of forever.
“Yes, just you. Just the way you are. No addendums, no modifications, no hacks or shortcuts, or changes of any kind.”
Sam cried. Probably not those cute tears that make some women look like they’re glowing and gorgeous and as freaking mythical as a rainbow-colored unicorn. Nope, she cried the horrifyingly ugly tears. Logan looked appropriately shocked and appalled.
“Sam? Are you okay? What’s wrong, Sam?”
She shook her head. She had yet to answer him, to tell him that she loved him, too. She should do that before he thought she was rejecting him.
“I love you, too,” she croaked out.
Good God, that sounded awful.
But Logan was laughing, and then he was lifting her and swinging her in his arms, circling around like one of those scenes in a cheesy romantic comedy, and Sam cried harder. Because she’d never in a million years thought she’d have her romantic comedy moment, but here it was.
Logan stopped and put her down, but he didn’t let her go. He kept his arms around her and lowered his forehead to hers.
“Is that a yes to the babies? And marriage? Did I mention marriage? Man, I suck at this.”
Logan pushed back from her and went down on one knee.
“I don’t have a ring or a plan or anything. I’ll make this up to you later. I’ll do it the right way, later. For now, please, tell me you’ll marry me, Samantha Page? Tell me you’ll be mine forever?”
She nodded. “I will.” It was half laugh, half sob. All heart.
“What!” came a shriek from Jennie from the other end of the hall. “Did I just see what I thought I saw?”
Jennie and Chad barreled down the hall toward them. Well, Jennie barreled. Chad followed with a bemused smile on his face.
Jennie grabbed Sam in a hug, while Chad shook his head at Logan. “Really? In the hallway? At the police station? Do you even have a ring?”
Jennie let go of Sam and both women turned on Chad and Logan.
“It was romantic because it was so spontaneous, Chad!” Jennie said and Sam echoed the sentiment with a swat to his chest.
“Yeah,” said Logan, unable to stop smiling. “I did it right. Sam says so.”
Chad shook his head, but laughed and clapped Logan on the back.
“Congratulations, man. I’m happy for you. For both of you.” He pulled Sam into a hug and kissed the top of her head. The gesture was that of a big brother, not romantic in any way, but Logan still felt a kick of jealousy growl deep in his gut.
Damn, he loved this woman. Loved her, revered her, and was so damned grateful for her.
Chad released Sam and grinned. “I’d say let’s go out for a drink to celebrate, but uh,” he said, looking a little uneasy.
“But since I have a lunatic of unknown identification on my ass and Logan has the press crawling all over him, trying to get a statement from America’s favorite new hero, we shouldn’t be out in public?” Sam said, managing to bring a cheeky kind of lightness to the situation.
It didn’t mean Logan didn’t tense at the reality of her words and at her reference to him as a hero, but he appreciated her trying to lighten the heaviness of a crazy situation.
“Yeah, that.” Chad grinned back at Sam.
“So, come back to my place,” Sam said, taking Logan’s hand. “We can hole up there and have a toast. Zach is already there. We can have Jesse meet us. Kelly and Jack just left. Kelly’s exhausted so we shouldn’t drag them back out, but the rest of us can celebrate.”
“Sam!” Monique called from behind them, coming down the hallway. She held up Sam’s new coat—the bulletproof one designed to keep her safe. “You forgot your coat.
Sam had the decency to blush.
“Really?” Logan raised his eyebrows at her. “Already?”
She mumbled an apology as Logan took the coat from Monique and slipped it on Sam, and then proceeded to button the front up, all the way to her chin. Now it was Sam’s turn to raise her eyebrows.
“Really?” she mimicked back to him.
“Yes. I’m not losing you now, babe. Let’s go.”
He put his arm around her shoulders and the group headed toward the exit and what they knew would be a gauntlet of press. Logan couldn’t care less about the press anymore. All that mattered now was keeping Sam safe and keeping him out of jail so they could start their life together.
Logan pulled Sam down to straddle his lap as he ran his hands up and down her arms. Her skin was so soft. So amazing to touch. He was stunned that she’d said yes to him, that she planned to marry him.
They had enjoyed a fairly quick celebratory drink with their friends before kicking most of them out and heading up to bed. Zach and Chad were still sleeping on the couch downstairs, taking turns on watch duty at night.
“Are you upset that I didn’t plan a big fancy proposal?” he asked. “Or even get a ring?”
He really was an ass. He should have taken his time and planned something nice for her, instead of rushing into things as soon as he realized what he was feeling.
Sam leaned back in his lap, her arms holding onto his shoulders. “No, not at all. Are you sorry you asked?”
Her eyebrows knit together and he kissed away the thoughts flitting across her face. “Not in a million years. I just worried that you might have been upset because I acted too quickly.”
Her expression eased and she shook her head. “I like that you did it your way. You didn’t worry about everything being perfect. You just kind of spoke what you were thinking. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I do that a little.”
Her expression and smile were cheeky and he loved that she teased him about it instead of being put out that she didn’t have a ring on her finger yet. He lifted her hand and kissed the spot where his ring would go.
“When we get through with all of this crap, we’ll go pick out a gorgeous ring for you. Something unique and special, like my girl.”
When she smiled so softly at him, he thought his heart might burst with happiness he’d never thought he’d find. He was done with talking for the night. He laid back on the bed and tugged h
er down over him, devouring her mouth.
She wriggled her hips, pressing against the hard erection he’d been fighting for the last couple of hours. He felt himself grow even harder and was damned happy he didn’t have to fight it off any longer. Hell, he didn’t know if he could.
His hands found the curve of her waist and slid up under her shirt to the soft swells of her breast. Logan unclasped her bra and let his hands roam over the soft skin that drew him, called to him, tormented him. Her nipples peaked beneath his fingers. He lifted shirt and bra in one motion, tugging them over her head, before pulling her back toward him so he could get his mouth on her.
She writhed and moaned and ground down against him.
“You’re killing me, Sam,” he groaned and she had the nerve to laugh.
“Right back atchya, baby.” And then she nipped his lip and he was lost. A one-armed flip had her soft body beneath his and a few more economical movements had their clothes abandoned on the floor in a heap.
He stilled above her, aching to be inside of her, but wanting to hear the words he’d thought he’d never hear. “Say it again”
She smiled that teasing, impish smile at him and he nudged the head of his cock inside her wet folds, taunting her. On a gasp, she spoke the words he needed. “I love you, Logan. I love you.”
And then he was inside of her, lost in the way she was both soft and tough and melting for him, all at once. Her hands clutched at his ass as if trying to pull him deeper. He was happy to oblige, lifting her leg and slanting to bury himself again and again until she cried out and clenched him tightly.
It wasn’t until after he came that he realized he hadn’t used a condom. Not something he ever did, but something he now wanted to do again and again with her. With his Sam. She must have been thinking the same thing.
“My mother will probably kill me if I walk down the aisle visibly knocked up.”
He barked out a laugh but then kissed her. A long slow, sweet kiss. He rubbed the tip of his nose against hers, his eyes locked on hers. “Then, I guess we’d better get you down the aisle quickly.”
Her laughter was all the answer he needed as he slowly started to move inside of her again, his cock swelling to the challenge of loving her over and over throughout the night.
Chapter 26
Sam wandered Logan’s torso with her hands, the taut muscles and light smattering of hair that tickled her fingers were all mesmerizing. She could spend hours exploring his body, learning every detail of it, memorizing every plane. Memorizing the scars that carved out who he was as a person.
She felt the smooth skin that made up the largest of his scars. The one that ran over eight inches on his hip. Smaller, but no less angry looking, scars surrounded it.
“Ernie makes me tell him about it over and over,” he said.
She didn’t answer, just kept running her hands over it.
“He says if I can relive the times that haunt me over and over, the smells, the sights, the sounds—all of it, then I won’t be as affected by them when the memories hit me.”
“Do you think it’s helping?”
“Yeah,” he said, but there was a weight to his voice and she knew each retelling cost him.
“You don’t ever have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I won’t ask you about those things, but if you need or want to tell me, you can. I’m always here for you if you need to get the words out, or if you think it would help me to know so I can help you.”
He nodded, burying his face in the soft skin at the side of her breasts and then shifting so his head lay on her stomach. He loved how soft her flesh was there. He knew she thought it was unattractive, having a soft belly instead of toned, tight abs, but he loved it. He thought a woman should be all soft curves to his hardness. He wouldn’t want her any other way.
She ran her hands through his hair and he closed his eyes and let the feel of her fingers soothe him.
He knew Ernie would tell him that sharing the stories took away their power, weakened them, but he couldn’t tell her this one. He’d only told Ernie the story one time so far and he wasn’t ready for any more than that.
As Sam’s hands caressed and quieted him, he let his mind wander back to the session where Ernie had finally gotten the worst of it out of him. His last mission. The one that had taken so damned much. Cost too damned much.
“Tell me about the last one,” Ernie had said.
Logan sat stock still for a long time, frozen in the memory of that last mission. As far as all his friends were concerned, he’d been a SEAL right up until the day he separated from the Navy.
While that was technically true, the Navy reassigned him in that last year. He and several of his team. They left the sandbox behind and took assignments that technically fit within the rubric of the Navy SEALs, but weren’t your typical SEAL assignments. It sure as hell wasn’t overwatch duty in Fallujah. That shit had been bad enough.
The new shit they’d been assigned? Well, it was something else altogether. He and a few of his SEAL team who’d been hand-picked by the higher-ups joined up with several CIA operatives and a few Delta team operatives to become an off-the-books, blacker-than-black ops unit.
They had joked, trying to come up with a way to describe what they were. Obsidian? Onyx? What was blacker than black in a shadow world where you would be cut off and left behind by your government if you were caught at what you were doing?
Because they couldn’t allow themselves to be caught. Not an option in their world. But the work they did was important. They went after the bad guys no one else could bring down. And, in that last op, they brought down the baddest of the bad, Nikolai Bogomolov, after he’d begun to target US military installations abroad.
Logan jumped from the memory of telling Ernie in his office, back to the present with Sam, and suddenly telling her some of it wasn’t so hard. She simply held him and ran her fingers rhythmically through his hair. He wouldn’t tell her all of it, but enough. Enough for her to understand what had been at stake. Pieces were all he could tell. It was the most confidential of ops, the kind of thing you couldn’t share with anyone. So he told her bits, but his mind ran through all of it.
“We were sent after a man who brought new meaning to the word evil.” He didn’t give her a name and he didn’t tell her that Nikolai Bogolomov was responsible for bombings in two US states, Paris, London, and Spain.
No one realized he was behind them because he always backed others, but he’d been the driving force. The US and several allies had known that for a long time. And, they’d decided to do something about it.
“But the op went bad,” he said, still talking with his head on Sam’s stomach, eyes staring at the wall, letting the feel of her hands on him keep him in a protected bubble where what he had to say couldn’t hurt him. “It was bad from the start and we all knew it. One of those fucked up situations where you all know shit’s off and you tell your command, but they aren’t in the mood to hear it.”
He paused for a minute, remembering. The feel of the team, the tension in the room as they all looked over plans they knew were iffy at best.
“This guy, he was called Dooh.” He gave her the Americanized pronunciation of the Russian word, but she translated immediately.
“Specter” she said softly.
“Yeah. Because he was. No one could catch this guy. He was like an apparition.” For years, the CIA had tracked him but they were always one step behind.
“They finally had him nailed down. What they didn’t tell us was the reason he was nailed down in one place was because it was his oldest son’s birthday. His son was turning twelve. His mother and brother were there with his father. And, by the time we discovered that, it was too late.”
“You would have called the operation off if you had known ahead of time?” She asked the question, but her tone said she knew the answer. She was just making the point to him.
“Yeah, but, things went sideways for a lot of other reasons. We’d just been assi
gned a new guy. He had plenty of experience, but he wasn’t one of us, you know? We didn’t know him yet, didn’t run smooth as calm waters with him yet, like we did with each other. I didn’t want him there. Didn’t want to have to bring him in on an op when we didn’t know him well enough. If I was a better leader, I wouldn’t have shoved him aside to a spot where I thought he couldn’t do any harm. I would have refused to bring him in at all.”
He hadn’t been a good enough leader that day. He’d been impatient. He hadn’t wanted that guy there, so he’d tasked him with watching Adeline Bogolomov and her two sons while the rest of the team rounded up Nikolai and his men.
Sam didn’t offer platitudes or judgment. She just kept up that same steady rhythm with her hands.
He didn’t finish telling her the story. He wasn’t ready to do that yet. He wasn’t ready to tell her that the new guy hadn’t paid enough attention to the woman and children in his care.
That he’d been so pissed at getting babysitting duty that he had underestimated them. That no one had swept the room they were in for weapons until it was too late. That one of the kids had gone for a grenade and tossed it.
That when the smoke cleared, too many of Logan’s team members lay injured or dead. The whole of Bogolomov’s family and team were dead. All except for Bogolomov’s daughter and nephew who hadn’t arrived yet.
Logan had taken a shit ton of shrapnel to his leg and hip. He’d failed to keep his men safe. He didn’t know how Ernie planned to take away the reality of that. He might manage to desensitize Logan to the memories to take the shock out of them, but how did he plan to take away the fact that Logan had gotten members of his team, his brothers, killed?
That he was responsible for the deaths of two children and a woman, whose only real crimes had been being part of a madman’s family?
Sam began to rub his temples and he let his eyes close. Instead of seeing the broken pieces of his team, the hell and fallout and nightmares of that last op, he saw only Sam’s trusting face in his dreams. He saw the way she opened her arms to him and wrapped him up. The way her eyes showed no judgment, no disgust at how he’d failed. Only love.