Savior (First to Fight Book 4)

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Savior (First to Fight Book 4) Page 10

by Nicole Blanchard


  I pull the screen open then remember the locks and wait for her to undo them. When she does, I take a step forward. “Let me in, Sienna.”

  “Logan, I—”

  “I’m not here to get in your pants.” I grin at her when her mouth presses into a thin line, the color drains from her face, and I swear I see the walls around her fly back into place. Something about what I just said has her closing off again, and I don’t like it. “Well, that’s not true, but not tonight.” I try to back pedal, but she just closes into herself a bit more. I’m screwing this all up, so I switch my approach. “I just need to get out of my own head for a while. Will you help me do that?”

  She hesitates for a second, arguing with herself. While she thinks it over, I hunker down to offer the dog a hand to sniff. He does so hesitantly, unsure of me. “What’s his name?”

  “Rocky,” she says.

  “That’s a good name for such a manly guy, huh?” I stay down until he licks my hand, ignoring the scent of wet dog. “He looks like he could use something to eat.”

  “He was abandoned. They gave him a bath at the shelter, but when I got him home, we decided to do another just in case. He is in pretty bad shape.”

  “I’ve always wanted a dog.” I give him a gentle rub, which is all he allows, and then stand.

  “What kept you from getting one?”

  I shrug. “I joined the Marines right after high school. Moved around too much and wasn’t home enough to keep one. Then after I got married, my wife never wanted one.”

  She blinks at me. “You are married.”

  “Was. Young and stupid,” is all I say. “We got divorced after I left the Marines. She didn’t believe fidelity applied when I was overseas.”

  She studies me for a few long seconds, her blue eyes thoughtful as Rocky butts up against her legs. “I have some leftover casserole. Are you hungry?”

  “I could eat, but only if it’s not out of pity.”

  Her lips pull into a reluctant smile, and I know I’ll be finding more excuses to come to her house after work in the coming days.

  “Pity you?” she teases. “Never.”

  Piper

  I open the fridge, grab the dish, and glance back over my shoulder to find his eyes on me. “You said you wanted a beer?”

  “What?” He refocuses on my face. “Oh, no.”

  “No?” What a confusing man.

  My expression makes him grin, changing his whole brooding, devilish face into a younger, more boyish version. “I’m a recovering alcoholic, Sienna.”

  I glance down at the bottle in my hand in abject horror. “But you said . . .”

  He laughs. “Relax. I always want a beer, but I haven’t had one in about a month.”

  Shaking my head, I put the beer back on the shelf. “Sweet tea okay?”

  “Perfect.”

  The kitchen is only big enough for a small table and two chairs and with Logan’s huge form standing in the middle, it seems even smaller. He takes a place at the table and makes an appreciative noise when I set a glass of iced tea in front of him.

  “Thanks. You know, you’ve only been here a couple weeks and already this place feels more homey than mine.”

  I pull dishes from the cabinets and set them on the counter. Glancing back over my shoulder, I say, “Why’s that?”

  “Probably because I’ve never unpacked.”

  “How long have you lived there?”

  “Three years,” he says, and even though I can’t see him, I hear the smile in his voice.

  I sputter, laughter bubbling in my throat. “Three years and you haven’t unpacked?”

  “I figure boxes are practically ready-made storage.”

  Rocky bumps his head into my legs when he scents the casserole I’m spooning onto the plates, and I idly pat his head with my free hand. “I bet it drives Diane crazy.”

  He smiles behind the glass of tea. “Oh, yeah. She hates it, but she refuses to unpack it for me, too.”

  The microwave beeps, and I pull out the first plate. “Good for her. She shouldn’t be doing those things for you. You’re a grown man.”

  When I set the plate of food in front of him he grins. When he reached out and wraps his long fingers around my wrist, I freeze. “What?” I ask.

  “Got you to make me dinner, didn’t I?”

  I pause and then my eyes widen. “You little sneak! So that’s why you keep coming around. You’re worse than the dog.” Rocky, who’s been begging for food since I opened the casserole dish perks up. I roll my eyes at the pair of them.

  With my own plate in hand, I sit across from Logan. Rocky settles in between our feet under the table. It’s . . . cozy, which is funny because Logan and cozy don’t seem like they’d correlate, but I forgot how nice it is to just hang out with another person. I take a fortifying sip of my own drink. “Why’d you need to get out of your own head?” I ask.

  He glances up at me and chews his bite of food slowly before swallowing. “I’m sure you’ve probably figured it out.”

  “Rough call from last night?”

  “You can say that.”

  “I’m not sure it’s worth much, but I’m sorry.”

  “You’re feeding me, so at least something decent came of it.”

  I wave it away. “I’m just being neighborly.”

  “For someone who habitually carries a gun, you’re being very hospitable.”

  Shrugging, I take a bite of casserole. “Turning over a new leaf.”

  He studies me. “Is that what you’re doing here? Turning over a new leaf?”

  “Trying to.”

  “I’m not going to ask, but I’m here if you need to talk about it.”

  I look down at my plate, afraid his finely tuned senses can read my eyes. “Thanks. Same goes, apparently.”

  “Make sure to tell Aunt Diane about this conversation. She thinks I interrogate you every chance I get.”

  I surprise us both by laughing. “I’ll do that.”

  “What made you come to Nassau?” he asks.

  “Ben’s cousin Chloe. We’re friends. I used to own a travel agency out of Jacksonville.”

  “Used to?” His eyes are intense and assessing. I remind myself to be careful with details. It’s easy to let down my guard around him, to forget he’s also a cop.

  I lift my shoulders in what I hope is a casual gesture. “She is managing owner now. I was ready for a change.”

  “So you’re from around Jacksonville?” He shifts, and I spot an arm going under the table and the happy slurps from Rocky. Logan looks back at my incredulous expression. “What?”

  “Are you trying to teach him bad habits?”

  He grins. “Are you trying to avoid the question?”

  “Don’t feed him from the table. He’ll learn to beg whenever I’m eating if you keep it up.”

  “I’m going with my gut, and I’m gonna say if you’re not originally from Jacksonville, you’re at least from Florida. Am I right?”

  To cover my surprise, I take another bite of casserole. Another drink. He sees far too much. “Your aunt was right to think you interrogate me.”

  “Not an interrogation.” The implied “yet” doesn’t need to be spoken. “Just neighborly conversation.”

  “Originally Alabama, but I’ve lived in Florida, yes.” There, close enough to the truth. Not specific enough to point to my real identity.

  “There? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Why do you care so much?”

  “Natural curiosity.”

  “Is that why you became a cop?”

  “Partially.”

  I raise my brow when he doesn’t elaborate. “Now who’s dodging questions?”

  “Touché.”

  Plates cleared, he stands and takes them to the sink and surprises me by washing them instead of leaving them for me. I let Rocky out back, where I’ve staked off and electronic fence to keep him from wandering. Then, out of sheer habit, I leave Logan in the kitchen while I
check the locks on the doors and double check that the windows are secure. When I return, I find him watching me with his patient gaze as he sips from another glass of sweet tea.

  “Making yourself at home?” I tease.

  “Afraid of something?” he counters, and my smile falls.

  He sets his empty glass on the table and crosses the room to where I’m standing. Everything inside me goes on alert. With a man like Logan, I would have to be dead not to respond. For a long time, I thought I was, but as he grows closer my whole body comes back to life.

  “What are you doing?” I ask. The words are barely discernible over the loud rush of my breathing.

  I don’t realize I have been moving backward until my back touches the wall. I bring my hands up automatically, and they come in contact with the expanse of his chest. My eyes dart to his face, which is surprisingly close to mine. Then, I stop breathing altogether.

  “Don’t be afraid of me.”

  Then he draws me close. The move is so smooth, I go with him. His lips are so soft and so unexpected, I sigh into them. He doesn’t move other than to rub his lips against mine, nipping at them with a gentle bite of his teeth. When his tongue presses forward and caresses my own, I snap out of my stupor and pull back.

  I press a trembling hand to my lips. “I can’t.” Furious at the tremble in my voice, I slide out between him and the wall, desperate for cool air to clear my thoughts and take away the heat licking at my insides.

  He takes a step to the side and blocks my departure. “Seems like you just did.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “No, you don’t understand.”

  When I try to move around him again, he sidesteps. “I’m a pretty intelligent man, Sienna. Why don’t you try to explain it to me?”

  Blindly, I run a hand through my hair, tugging at the ends and hoping to regain some common sense. I grasp for the first explanation I come across. “You don’t even know me.”

  “I know enough.” He moves closer, and it’s as if he sucks all the air from the room. “I’ll get to know more.”

  “No you don’t.” I gasp for air. “You won’t.”

  One hand comes to rest on my hip, searing through the material of my jeans. For one white-hot second, I imagine those hands on my skin without a barrier, and my heart leaps inside my chest. When I refocus on his words, I wish I hadn’t. “I know you’ve got secrets. A past. I know you tremble when I touch you. That you sighed just a little when I kissed you. I know you like to garden, love my family, and, despite your initial skittishness, you’re kind to everyone.”

  “We’ve barely met.” Even to my ears, my voice sounds desperate.

  “What? Are you fishing for compliments? Do you want me to tell you that you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met? That I dream about you and the way you looked at me the first night we met? About getting between your thighs and hearing those sighs in my ear as you’re holding on to me? Do you want me to tell you how much I want to know what makes you look so sad sometimes?”

  I close my eyes, trying to block out his words. “I don’t want you to say any of those things. I don’t want you to feel any of those things.”

  “You can’t control me any more than you can control the world around you—no matter how hard you try.”

  “I’m not ready for this. It’s too fast.” I look away from him, but he takes my chin gently between his thumb and forefinger and turns my attention back to him. I want to tell him to stop, but the words won’t come, and he presses a soft kiss to my lips.

  “Fair enough, for now. We won’t get into all that now.” He moves away, and I resist the temptation to follow after him. The cool air swirling between us clears my mind somewhat. He takes another step toward the door and then grins at me, breaking some of the tension. “We’ll save it for the second date.”

  He’s halfway out the door when I realize what he said. “This wasn’t a first date!” I call out after him and he turns back to me, his hand still on the doorknob.

  “Are we going to argue over semantics? There was a dinner if I recall correctly. Conversation. I even kissed you good night, though you can get credit for walking me to the door.”

  I grasp blindly for an excuse. “Logan, just a few days ago, you thought I was trying to pull one over on your family.”

  This finally gets him to come back, but now all the playfulness has been replaced with a serious expression. “Pretty sure I was just being stubborn.”

  “Stubborn isn’t really how I would describe it.”

  He shrugs. “It’s not every day a man meets a woman who stops time just by walking into the room.” With a tug of my hand, he pulls me closer. “That’s what you do for me, Sienna. You stop time.”

  He kisses me again, and this time, I don’t push him away.

  Logan

  For the next few weeks, I give her time—not only to think about us, but because I’m so swamped with the Faith Gallagher case I don’t have time to pay her attention properly. Besides, with a woman like Sienna, I shouldn’t pursue it until I can go all in. I still make sure to stop by the B&B more regularly, grab a cup of coffee, fluster her a little bit, get her used to seeing me.

  She’s not always pleased to see me, which only tells me I’m making progress.

  On one such morning after a long night, I tromp up the mud-splattered walkway to the back entrance of the B&B, but Sienna’s already waiting by the back door with a fierce scowl. The sight of it just makes me smile.

  “What are you doing here?” she hisses.

  “Why? Aren’t you happy to see me?”

  She tugs my arm and pulls me into the hall and pushes me inside an over-sized pantry, then slams the door behind us. “What? Are you stalking me now?” She glances over her shoulder and keeps her voice low, probably worried someone may overhear us.

  There isn’t much room to maneuver in the small space, but I think I can make it work for me. “Is that what you think?” I ask, my voice is equally low to match hers.

  Her scowl deepens, and I take a second to think about tracing the lines of her lips with my tongue. She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “One kiss doesn’t mean you can harass me at work, Logan.”

  I turn, using my grip on her arms to pull her into me as I lean against the shelves. They dig into my back, but I’m much more interested in how she feels when she loses balance and falls against me. She blows her hair out of her face, and I grin. “This isn’t me harassing you, but I can if you’re into that. My aunt owns the place. We live next to each other. You’re gonna have to get used to seeing me.”

  She rolls her eyes and tries to wiggle out of my grip, but it’s only a halfhearted attempt. “You can’t keep coming to see me at work like this.”

  “Oh, I can’t?” I twine my arms around her and dip my head so the next words are muttered against her lips. “I think you like it.”

  A surge of triumph crashes through me when she sighs and her hands twist around my neck. I’m sure she will deny it later, but she is the one who closes the tiny distance between our mouths.

  In our urgency, we knock over a tower of cans, and they tumble to the floor with dull thuds. Sienna pulls back, cheeks flushed and eyes wide. “Do you think they heard us?” she whispers.

  We listen for a few tense seconds. When it appears they haven’t, I tug her back to me. “Go out with me.”

  Her dazed eyes blink up at me. “What?”

  “Go out with me. Date two, remember?”

  I kiss the resulting frown off her face.

  “I don’t know.” Despite her protests, her head tilts to the side, giving me access to her neck. I would have to be completely dense to pass up the offer. Since I’m not, I drop my lips to her soft skin and suck and bite until her nails are digging into my arm.

  “We won’t call it a date. You have to eat, right?”

  “Hmm?” I take her earlobe into my mouth, and she shivers against me. When she can breathe again she adds, “Oh yeah, mhmm.”

  �
�Then let me take you to dinner.”

  She swallows thickly, and I twist so she’s pinned between me and the wall. Her eyes are overbought and half-closed. “I’ve got to stay late tonight. Your Grandma has a late doctor’s appointment so I’ll be closing up and finishing dinner here so Diane can take her.”

  My groan is muffled against her throat. “What about after?”

  “After?”

  I chuckle, but even to my own ears, it sounds thin and desperate. “Yes, after dinner. After work.”

  “We’ve been over this,” she says as her hands fist in my shirt. “I can’t.”

  This time, my laugh is dark. “Oh, I think you can,” I say, kissing her again.

  She sinks into me, into the kiss, and I can’t remember ever enjoying the taste of a woman so much. I’m not even sure she realizes how much she gives herself over. Based on how much she’s been holding back, how much she’s been hiding, having her give in is a reward a man like me doesn’t deserve. But I take it, and I demand more. Her mouth is my new battle ground, and I use every weapon in my arsenal to make her surrender.

  When I pull back, she’s limp in my arms. “So,” I say between breaths, “I’ll pick you up after your shift?”

  “What?”

  “I’m gonna pick you up after work. We’ll take Rocky to the park and let him run around.”

  “He’d like the park.”

  “What time do you get off?”

  There’s a soft knock, which startles us into silence, and then Aunt Diane says through the door, “Sienna, when you’re done, can you fetch me a couple cans of peaches? I think we’ll have cobbler for dessert later.”

  Sienna stuffs her face into my chest, her shoulders shaking under my hands. When she can control herself, she says, “Yes, ma’am.” She pauses and shoots me a worried glance. “Do you think she knows what we’re doing in here?”

  Before I can answer there’s a polite cough. “Logan, when you’re done badgering her, there’s food out here for you if you’re hungry.”

  Sienna looks up at me wide eyes and flushed. Oh my God she mouths in shock. She starts to pull away, but I keep her in place with one arm. When I open my mouth, she slaps a hand over my lips and frantically shakes her head.

 

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