by Carrie Elks
She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together.
“I’ll be there,” he repeated,
She gave him a smile. “Good. Because I can’t do this on my own. I need you, Logan. And if you can’t be here then we need to rethink bringing somebody else on board.”
“We don’t need anybody else. We’ve got this.” He walked around the car, pulling the driver’s door open. “I’ll see you Sunday night.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He threw his wallet and phone on the passenger seat, shaking his head at all the notifications filling the screen as it momentarily lit up.
He’d answer them all once he was through check in. When he was finally on his way to her. His own, personal sweet slice of oblivion.
Right now, the thought of her in his arms was the only thing keeping him going.
Chapter Six
Courtney’s eyelids flickered, the pounding in her head worse than ever. It took her a moment to realize that though her head was hurting, the noise was coming from elsewhere.
The front door.
She lifted her head, then winced and dropped it back to the cushion, and barely managed to open her dry lips.
“It’s open,” she struggled to croak. She was surrounded by darkness. What time was it? She remembered Carl leaving, then nothing after that. Had she been asleep all this time?
“Hi. How are you feeling?”
The smooth, deep sound of his voice made her eyes wide. Her breath caught in her throat as she looked toward the door and saw the outline of a tall, built man against the open front door.
“Logan?” she said, her voice catching. “Didn’t you get my message?”
He walked inside, kicking the door closed behind him. In the gloom of her living room she could see him holding something. It looked like a brown bag. The kind you got at the grocery store.
“I got your message, but by then I’d already checked in at the airport.” He looked around. “Is it okay if I turn a light on?”
“The kitchen switch is right next to you.”
He flicked it on, the brightness shooting straight through her skull. If she didn’t feel so sick, she’d probably worry about him seeing her like this. Her hair lank, her face pale, her lips so dry she could grow a cactus in them.
He put the bag down on the counter that divided the living room from the kitchen. She watched, bemused, as he began to take the items out one by one.
A rotisserie chicken, in a plastic container. Carrots, leeks, and onions, along with sachets of herbs and spices she couldn’t quite read the labels of.
“I didn’t want you to come all this way and be disappointed,” she said, her voice thick with exhaustion. “I don’t think I’m up for sex right now.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “That’s not why I’m here. I’m making you dinner.”
“You’re what?” She managed to turn on her side, even though every muscle in her body complained about the movement.
“I’m going to make you chicken soup.” A smile played at his lips. “It’s the only cure for when you have a fever like yours.”
“You’re cooking for me?” She blinked, not quite understanding thanks to the fog in her brain.
He shrugged. “It’s what I do. I worked in a kitchen to pay my way through college.” He leaned on the counter and caught her gaze. “I was pretty good at it, too. I figure you haven’t got anybody to cook for you, so I’ll do it.” He looked around the kitchen. “Where are your pans?”
“In the cupboard next to the stove.” She frowned. Was this normal behavior? Did hook ups usually cook for you when you were sick? She’d have to ask Lainey, she’d know. Every slice of human life passed through the salon after all. “Are you sure you want to cook after coming all this way?”
Nobody had ever cooked for her before. Even when she was as sick as a dog, Shaun would either buy takeout or go to his mom’s, leaving Courtney to sweat it out in bed. She had no idea what to make of it as Logan made himself at home in her kitchen, sweating vegetables in the huge soup pan, the savory aroma filling the downstairs of her cottage. At one point she must have drifted off, because she woke to him holding a glass of water to her lips.
“Drink,” he said softly. “You look dehydrated.”
“I keep forgetting.” She swallowed a mouthful of the cool liquid, and it tasted like nectar on her tongue. “I think I need to take more medicine, too. Can you pass the box?”
He grabbed the package from her coffee table and popped a pill through the foil. She shivered as he pressed it against her mouth. Okay, so she wasn’t that sick.
Though she had a feeling she’d have to be dying not to be affected by Logan Hartson’s touch.
“The soup will be ready in half an hour,” he told her. “Why don’t you take a shower? It’ll make you feel better.”
“I don’t think I can stand up.” She gave him a weak smile.
“I’ll get in with you.” He shrugged. “I’ll hold you up.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh no, I couldn’t.”
A half-smile curled his lips. “Why not?”
“Because we’d be…”
“Naked?” he offered. “It’s okay. I don’t know if you remember, but I’ve seen it all before. Real close and personal.” Was that a wink?
A shower sounded pretty good right now. She hadn’t had one since yesterday, but the thought of him being close to her funky body made her want to cry. “I don’t know.”
“I promise it’ll be all above board.” He held his hand up in a salute. “Scout’s honor.”
“You were never a Boy Scout,” she croaked.
“Sure was.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Got my Eagle Scout, too. I had the most spirit in our whole troop.”
She tried to picture him as a boy, in a khaki shirt covered with badges, along with a colorful scarf around his neck, and started to laugh. It turned into a choke, and the smile dissolved from his face, as he crouched in front of her.
“You okay?”
She nodded. “Just don’t say anything funny. Or at least give me some warning first.”
He put his palm on her face, the warmth of him making her want to sigh. He was close enough for her to inhale the soft spice of his cologne. Damn if it didn’t do something to her.
“I promise not to make you laugh anymore.” He traced the line of her cheek with his finger. “Come on, let me help you in the shower. No sexy times, I promise. You’ll feel better and that’ll make me feel better. Then you can have some soup and get back to sleep.”
Shower, soup, and sleep. All three of them sounded good right now, especially coming from his mouth. “Okay.” She nodded. “A shower would be good.”
The ‘no sexy times’, not so much. But she was sick, even if the nerve endings in her body protested otherwise. And if the way he held her so softly and tenderly as the spray rained down on their naked bodies made her yearn for something she couldn’t have? She’d think about that later, too.
Right now, he wanted to take care of her, and she wanted him to do exactly that. Analysis could wait for another day.
“That was delicious. Thank you,” she croaked, laying her spoon down in the empty bowl. She’d managed to sit at the kitchen table with him, her body revived from their long, hot shower. With her dark curls braided into a damp plait, she looked beautiful despite the exhaustion that made her eyelids droop and her shoulders sag.
“You’re welcome.” Logan took her empty bowl and piled it on top of his own. “I’ve put the rest in the refrigerator. There should be enough for a couple of days. Or you can freeze it if you’d prefer.”
“Not cooking for two days sounds like bliss.” She smiled at him, and he felt it right in his groin. He’d been as good as his word in the shower, only touching her to hold her up and wash her hair, his fingers gently massaging the suds into her curls, then helping her back beneath the spray to rinse it out. It hadn’t stopped him from looking, at her lithe, tight body. Or from wanting to feel h
is fingers sliding against her damp skin.
Damn it, she was sick. And so was he for wanting her.
She yawned, her head slumping to the side. “Let me help you up to bed,” he murmured, standing to put the dishes into the sink. He’d wash them once she was asleep and then let himself out. He hadn’t warned Aunt Gina he was coming, but he knew he’d be welcome in his family home anyway. And tomorrow he’d fly back to Boston and get on with his work.
He knew he was a fool for coming here tonight, yet as soon as he’d gotten her message in the departure lounge he knew he had to see her. The thought of going another month – or longer – without hearing her soft laugh, or running his fingers through her curls made his chest feel tight. She’d sounded so damn ill on the message, and he hated the thought of her all alone in her cottage without anybody to take care of her.
They were friends, after all. And friends took care of each other. That was all he was doing.
“Come on.” He hooked his hand around her waist and helped her stand. She slumped against him, and he tightened his hold. The stairs to her bedroom were steep, but he’d carried her up there before. That crazy day when they’d first met and his hormones had gone into overload, like a teenager unable to think of anything but his dick.
She looped her arms around his neck and nestled her face into him. He could feel the warmth of her breath through the open buttons at the neck of his shirt, as he carried her up the stairs and into her bedroom. Her eyes were drooping as he lay her on the mattress, before he pulled the covers up over her body. “I’ll grab your toothbrush,” he told her. “You can give them a quick scrub in here. Then I’ll go and let you sleep.”
“You’re leaving?” she asked.
“I’ll get my rest at my dad’s place, then fly back to Boston tomorrow.”
She swallowed hard. “I thought you might stay here tonight.”
“Do you want me to?” he asked, his voice low.
Her gaze met his. “Yeah,” she breathed. “I do.”
Crazy how that simple answer made his heart hammer against his chest. “Then I’ll stay.”
She smiled. “Good.”
He helped her brush her teeth, before brushing his own. Then he took his shirt and pants off, neatly folding them up on the chair in the corner of her room. Wearing only his shorts, he climbed into bed beside her, trying really damn hard not to get aroused by her sweet body.
She curled into him, her dark tresses tickling his face as he pressed against her fragrant hair. A glance at his watch told him it was just past nine o’clock.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to bed this early. Not without having sex, at least. And yet here he was, primetime on a Friday night, with a beautiful, feverish, woman, breathing softly against his chest.
If his brothers could see him right now they’d be sniggering their damn heads off.
It was a good thing his relationship with Courtney was a secret only the two of them knew.
There was something warm and damp beneath Courtney’s cheek. It took a moment for her to realize it was Logan’s chest, and she’d somehow been drooling on it. She tried to softly wipe the saliva away from his skin.
“Huh?” Logan lifted his head. In the darkness of the room, she could just about make out his features. He was frowning as he looked down at her, his eyelids half-closed. “You okay? You need something?” he asked, his voice raspy.
Strangely, she was feeling a little better. Enough for her head not to be pounding anymore. “What time is it?” she asked.
Logan lifted his arm, the face of his watch catching a glint of the moonlight. “Almost eleven.”
“I thought it must be nearly morning.”
He brushed a curl from her cheek. “You’ve got a while yet. Go back to sleep.”
She let her head fall back onto his chest. God, he felt good. His skin was warm, taut over the rise and dip of his muscles, smelling of the soap they’d used when they were in the shower.
He stroked her hair again, and her thigh muscles contracted. She brought her hand up to his chest, splaying her fingers out across the ridge of his left pectoral. He let out a grunt, and her body tightened again. Tracing the lines of his chest with her hand, she turned her head and pressed her lips to his skin.
Almost immediately she felt him respond. He was hard and thick against her leg. She pressed her warm thigh against him until he sighed again.
“Baby, you’re sick,” he said, his voice low.
She lifted her head to catch his gaze. “I’m feeling better.”
He chuckled. “You’re still hot.”
This time she grinned. “I sure am.” She wriggled on the mattress until her face was inline with his, her body still pressed against his chest and legs. She traced her finger along his bottom lip, swallowing hard when she saw him tremble.
“We shouldn’t…”
“We should,” she whispered. “Like this. Easy and slow.” They were facing each other, laying on their sides, and she ran her hand down his spine, biting down a smile as he shivered.
Her body ached for him. The thought of going another month without feeling him move inside of her was too much. She watched as his brow dipped, as though he was thinking things through. She smoothed the three vertical lines between them.
Then she kissed him, her lips barely brushing his. He let out a little moan, giving into the need pulsing through both their veins.
“Just slow,” he whispered against her mouth, making it curl into a grin.
“Okay.” She nodded, her expression teasing.
He ran his hand down her side, then hitched her thigh over his hip, pulling her against him until they were lined up perfectly. He kissed her, gently sliding into her until their bodies became one. His eyes caught hers, and she gave a nod, then he started to move inside her.
Her body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending tingling. He slid his hand down to her behind, fingers steadying her as he filled her over and again.
It was so different to the other times they’d had sex. So soft and intimate. Like he could see into her soul as the pleasure slowly coiled inside her. And when she came, it wasn’t the short, sharp blast of orgasms he’d wrung from her the last time they were together. It was sweet and long and made her breath catch in her throat. Soon after, he was joining her, holding her tight as he surged inside her, his hands caressing the cheeks of her behind as they both slowly came down from their high.
And then they heard the hammering on her front door.
Chapter Seven
Logan frowned as Courtney froze in his arms, her body still pressed to his.
“Who’s that?” he asked her. Her body was stiff. Had he been wrong to give in to her?
“I don’t know.” Courtney was starting to shake. “Did you lock the door before we came up? I can’t remember.”
He nodded. “I slid the bolt shut.”
She squeezed her eyes shut. “Thank god.”
The knocking stopped, but then her phone began to ring. She picked it up from the nightstand. The screen was angled so he couldn’t read it, but from the expression on her face the call was unwanted.
“It’s Carl.” Her voice was thin.
“Who’s Carl?” He blinked.
Her eyes were wide as they met his gaze. “My brother-in-law.”
“That’s him banging on the front door?”
She nodded, her mouth quivering. “I think so. I should take this.” She slid her finger against the screen, then lifted the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
“Court, it’s me. You okay? I saw a car outside your house and got worried.”
Logan could hear the deep voice reverberate from her phone. He swallowed hard, waiting for her response.
“I’m fine.” Her eyes darted back and forth. “That’s Lainey’s car. She dropped something off earlier and left it here.”
“It doesn’t look like Lainey’s car.”
“It doesn’t?” Her whole body was trembling now. L
ogan stroked her hair, trying to calm her down, but she felt feverish all over again. “Um, maybe she borrowed it.”
Logan wanted to take the phone from her ear and tell this Carl guy to give Courtney a break. She was sick, for God’s sake.
Yeah, so sick you just had your way with her. You’re no better.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” The deep voice reverberated through the phone. “I can come in and sit with you for a while. I just got off shift.”
“There’s no need,” Courtney blurted. “I’m fine. Just tired. I’m going to get some more sleep and hopefully be better in the morning.”
“Okay. And I’m glad you locked your door. You don’t know who’s out there. Sleep tight, Courtney. I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Thanks.” She swallowed hard and ended the call, her frightened eyes meeting Logan’s again. “I’m such a bad liar. Do you think he knows?” She started scrolling through her phone. “I should call Lainey. Oh god, I have to ask her to lie for me.” Her breath caught in her throat. “What if he runs the plates? He’ll know you’re here.”
“It’s a rental. That’s all he’ll get.” Logan’s voice was soft. “And you can call Lainey in the morning. Is she a friend of yours?”
Courtney let out a mouthful of air. “My best friend.”
Something else he didn’t know about her. But then again, what did he know? It wasn’t as though they’d shared every deep and dark aspect of each other’s life. This wasn’t about that. It was about sex.
“What if he comes back?” Courtney whispered. “What if he finds out you’re here with me?” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Oh god, this is so bad.”
Logan stared at her for a moment, trying to work out how to make this right. “Do you want me to leave?”
She shook her head. “No, he could still be outside.”
Logan brushed his fingers over her cheek. “I’m not scared of him, if that’s what you’re worried about. And I can’t figure out why you are either. I know he’s your brother-in-law, but what we’re doing here isn’t wrong. You’re not married and nor am I. We’re not cheating. We’re not breaking the law. We’re two adults consenting to sex.”