by Amy Jarecki
He was so at home there in Montana. Not that Olivia hadn’t bivouacked in the hills of Cambodia or in the arid Middle East. On her visits to Kenya, she’d had it rough—didn’t have to ride a horse, but accommodations were piss-poor, sometimes without running water. Montana was beautiful—stunning. There were evergreens everywhere and the heady fragrance of pine and forest filled the air.
They dismounted and she watched him hobble the horses. “Do you like to go fishing?”
“Love it. I’m a fly fisherman from way back.”
“I’ve never been.”
He straightened. “Nothing clears the mind better than spending the day on a river. Just a man and his rod.”
She almost laughed out loud—the image she’d conjured of his rod was definitely not a fishing pole. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He gave a sad smile. “I guess it’s another acquired skill. I haven’t had much time for fishing since I became a SEAL.”
“I know what that’s like.” Olivia rubbed her hands. “So, what did you pack for lunch?”
“A taste of France—baguettes with brie, fruit. Hope you don’t mind, but I kept it simple.”
“Simple works.”
After she spread the blanket, he set out the food. It all looked so provincial. Logan sat with his knees up, his heels digging into the blanket, which didn’t look comfortable at all. Olivia figured she ought to try to be ladylike and rested her knees to the side. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a picnic—probably didn’t want to, either.
She pointed to the thermos. “What’s in there?”
“Hot tea.”
“No wine?”
“I thought about wine but, since you’re British, I figured you might enjoy a nip of English Breakfast.” He pulled two tin cups out of his saddle bags, then untwisted the top of the thermos.
She held up a cup. “We need some scones or biscuits.”
He reached in the saddle bags again. “How about shortbread?”
“Delicious. Which should we eat first?”
“Your choice.”
She picked up a knife and sliced the brie. “Let’s have a free for all. Have you ever tried brie on shortbread?”
Finally, those penetrating teal eyes met her gaze. “I have not.”
Her heart skipped a beat. “Nor have I, but it sounds good to me.” She slathered a biscuit with cheese and held it up to his lips. “Will you do the honors?”
He opened his mouth and let Olivia feed him. “Mm.” His eyes grew wider as he chewed. Good Lord, if any man could make chewing look sexy, Logan Rodgers pulled it off like he was born to seduce by eating. He watched her from beneath his long, black eyelashes, with a cocky grin playing on his lips.
Butterflies flitted through her stomach.
“It’s good,” he said, taking the knife from her hand while his fingers brushed hers with a flicker of energy.
After seducing her further with a wink, he slathered a biscuit with brie and raised it to her lips. When he slid the combo into her mouth, Olivia’s taste buds exploded. Brie and shortbread was fantastic. A new favorite. He watched her as she chewed, then brushed her cheek with the back of his knuckle. “I’m glad you came with me.”
“Believe it or not, so am I.” She twisted the corner of her mouth. “I suppose I needed a kick in the tush.”
“Nah.” He batted a hand through the air. “You needed to recharge.”
She sighed and looked to the tops of the pine trees. “So you recharge here, fishing and riding horses?”
“I do. And mustering cattle.”
“I haven’t seen your cattle.”
“They’re grazing in the pasture down by Jason’s place.”
She looked up to the trees—nature, birds singing. Montana was so peaceful. “Why do you do it?”
“What?”
“Travel halfway around the world to fight bad guys.”
He rocked back on his elbow, looking even sexier than before, more relaxed, as if he were a part of the nature surrounding them. “It’s in my blood. Much the same as it’s in yours, I guess. I love it here, but it gets old after a while, and every time I see the news about some moron hurting innocent people, I can’t sit idle. It’s like an internal firecracker blasting out a call to action.”
“My call never really goes away.”
“Mine, either, I suppose. Maybe one day.”
Her lips parted as she stared into his eyes. God help her, he looked too delicious not to kiss. Her breathing shuddered as she moved closer, wanting him, but not trusting herself at the same time. When she hesitated, Logan threaded his fingers through her hair and, rising up to meet her, he captured her mouth.
Olivia timidly kissed his lips.
Logan moaned, his tongue pushing inside.
Olivia froze as the memory of the blade of a knife skimming her lips hit her like a brick. Tensing, she gently urged him back down to the blanket. “I can’t.”
Logan sat up, swiping a hand across his mouth. “God damn, my heart isn’t like a faucet you can turn on and off.”
“Sorry.” She shook her head, feeling like a worthless lout. “I-I just don’t do well unless I’m on the job.”
He gave her an angry stare. “You know I get a rush from the job, too. But there’s more to life than fighting thugs. There’s a spark between us, you can’t deny—”
“I know, but I cannot—”
“You can!” He sat up with a grunt, putting his back to her. God, the gesture felt like he’d just slammed a door. “You just won’t. Not until you stop blaming yourself for your parents’ death.”
Ice water shot through Olivia’s blood. No one ever spoke about what happened in Pakistan. Never! And he had no right to bring it up now. “How dare you?”
He rolled to his knees and started shoving the food into his saddle bags. “I was a fool to think you might like it here. I was a fool to think you might like me. I’ve been around your kind plenty, and all you people think about is yourselves…how you feel, what you want, where you want to be. No one else matters because it’s all about you.” He looked up with the most hurt and hateful expression she’d ever seen cross his face. “Isn’t it?”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Olivia paced the hotel room in Bigfork with her cell phone to her ear. She’d waited on hold forever. Garth always picked up immediately when they were on a mission but, now, when she desperately needed to speak to him, the CO kept her waiting.
Well, she’d wait all freaking afternoon if she had to. After Logan’s tirade during their picnic, she couldn’t get back to civilization soon enough. The town of Bigfork was on the edge of Hicksville. Even the hotel was rustic with a quaint, western bent. It made her tense all the more. She’d known from the outset that R & R on a farm wouldn’t work for her. She’d nearly gone off her trolley until Logan made her clean stalls.
Unbelievable. I’m miserable until I’m wallowing in shit.
But her brief brush with a pitchfork didn’t mean being a ranch hand was for her. Though she couldn’t deny horses were more interesting than she’d imagined. They had far more personality than she’d believed possible. They were a challenge as well.
Regardless, horses or not, nothing mattered. She’d never seen Logan so irate. In fact, he’d never quite lost it like that before. The bloke was always in complete control—so like a military officer.
Olivia continued to pace while her stomach tied in knots. She’d pushed him too far. Dammit all, anyway. She couldn’t harbor feelings for him. It just wasn’t done. She was married to the job and always had been.
Logan didn’t understand her. How could he? He’d never been through the quagmire of her life. He could not possibly have any idea what it was like to see her parents die. Did she blame herself for the car bombing that took their lives and deprived her of a family?
Hell, yes!
She blamed herself every moment of every day. Olivia didn’t deserve a man as caring and giving and smart and as p
erfect as Logan Rodgers. And, by God, he deserved someone better than her.
Letting out a frustrated groan, she plopped into the chair, punched the speaker button on her phone and stared up at the ceiling. “Why can’t I just let him go?”
Walking away from relationships had been easier in the past. She’d turned her back on every beau she’d ever had. Yes, it hurt, but this time the pain was off the charts. Her heart ached as if someone reached inside her chest and ripped it out. Her stomach clamped into a ball. Christ, she even had a sheen of clammy sweat on her skin.
Maybe I’ve come down with something.
But it was time for Olivia to face reality. To face her feelings.
I could lose Logan forever.
She doubled over at the thought. What if she ended up seeing him with another woman? She clenched her fists.
No, please, no.
If only she could fly away and never see him again. Go to Kenya and work as a full-time missionary.
But then al-Umari would win. If Olivia walked away, it would be admitting defeat.
A tear streamed down her cheek.
She couldn’t bear not to see Logan again. Goddamn it, when she really thought about it, the cowboy understood her. True, he mightn’t have been in her shoes and lived her life, but she had to admit he knew what she was like deep down. Yes, he’d been through strife of his own. Maybe that’s why they clicked so well.
We’re both predators.
And his words rang true. Neither one of them could live without the job. When bombs went off, they ran toward danger. They thrived on it.
Turning her back on him was the hardest thing she’d ever done. It hurt more than any pain she’d ever felt.
More than losing Mum and Dad?
Yeah. As much, anyway.
She chewed on her nail.
He’s too good for me.
But he was right. My parents would have wanted me to be happy. They always did.
“What is it, Hamilton?” Garth barked from the phone.
Olivia snapped her gaze toward the sound. “Ah…um…checking in, sir.”
“You recovered yet?”
“Working on it.” Her teeth grazed her bottom lip. She couldn’t go through with it. Making a snap decision, she said, “Have they found anything in al-Umari’s plane?” NATO had taken possession of the Gulfstream right after she and Logan had landed in the US.
“It’s still being stripped.”
“I thought you’d have news by now. Please let me know when the report is in.”
“Will do. But I want you to focus on yourself and not think about ICE. When you return, I expect your mind to be on the job one hundred percent.”
“It always is, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Talk soon.”
The line went dead. Olivia sprang to her feet, grabbed the hotel phone and rang the front desk. “Can you order a taxi, please?”
***
Lights off with the shades drawn, Logan sat in his father’s chair turning a glass of whisky between his fingertips. He never drank before five but today, he didn’t give a frig about the time. Hell, it was summer. The days were long and it might just be after five.
Women sucked.
Especially beautiful women.
The first time he’d laid eyes on Olivia, he’d known she was off limits. He knew women like her were put on the earth to torment men like him. God damn, he had warned himself, and yet he’d fallen for a gorgeous blonde again. Why the hell couldn’t he learn? He wasn’t Olivia’s type. He needed a Montana girl who grew up under the big sky, who liked to fish and barbeque.
True, he’d dated local girls. Some liked to fish. The problem was not a one understood his lifestyle. They all expected him to quit chasing bad guys and stay at home month in and month out. They all wanted to put a noose around his neck and tighten it until he couldn’t breathe.
Logan had never been the type to stay put. He lived to nail bad guys. Sure, he liked Montana. He loved Montana. But after a month at home, he was always ready for the next adventure. He was a warrior. Merely turning on the television made him crave to be back in the fight. He was a career military man whether he was working for ICE or working for the US Navy.
He’d made a pact with himself after he lost his father to make every day count. His mother had abandoned him and Dad had died young—just sixty. A man had only one life to live and if Logan didn’t grab it by the balls, there was no use living.
He took a sip of whisky and relished the burn as it slid down his throat. His mistake had been to care too much. Olivia, her beauty and all her excess baggage had sucked him in big time. He’d fallen head over heels. Christ, he’d even thought about putting a ring on her finger.
What a dupe.
Well, he had nothing to do now but to find a way to deal with the pain. His goddamned heart felt like it was ripped into a chasm as wide as the Grand Canyon. For the first time in years, he didn’t want to move. He looked at the bottle of Glenlivit on the table beside him. He’d sit there all night and drink until he passed out. Who cared about the hangover in the morning?
No one. That’s who.
At least Olivia was gone now and he could focus on blasting her memory from his mind. He’d forget those sexy negligees she wore, always giving him a hard on. The woman should be locked up just for looking like a beauty queen—for smelling like a hedge of jasmine—for driving red-blooded men throughout the world to complete and utter ruination.
Damn, it hurt.
He threw back the contents of the glass and slammed it on the table. He’d call Jason in the morning and get back to work. The calves needed to be drenched and what Logan needed was to spend the rest of his leave knee-deep in muck doing back-breaking work from dawn to dusk. That was the only surefire way to forget.
The worst thing? He had to go back to Iceland.
He’d see her again.
But not before he built a wall of bricks around his heart.
Outside, a vehicle crunched over the gravel and stopped.
Logan poured himself another glass. Jason could show himself in.
A door shut—a car door. It definitely didn’t sound like Jason’s truck. And the footsteps tapping the porch steps were too light to be Jason’s.
The car drove off.
Christ.
The doorbell rang. “Logan?” Yep. Olivia even sounded sexy. Why God couldn’t have blessed her with a shrill voice, he had no idea.
Shit.
Logan took a long sip.
She moved to the window, the outline of her slender silhouette played on the sheer curtains. “Logan?”
Groaning, he stood and moved to the door and opened it, making sure he didn’t look pleased to see her. “Did you forget something?”
“Yeeeeeeaaaaasss.” She sounded none too sure about it as she boldly pushed inside.
Logan let the door slam and faced her with his arms crossed. “Was that a taxi?”
“Uh huh.”
“Why isn’t it waiting?”
Her tongue slipped out the corner of her mouth. “Could we sit down?”
“No.”
“Very well then.” She stepped nearer and took his hand between her palms.
Refusing to look her in the eye, he tried to tug away, but she tightened her grip and something shattering inside his heart refused to permit him to pull harder.
Dammit, his gaze shifted to her face.
She looked at him with pleading eyes. Eyes so damned gorgeous, no puppy dog could compete with her. “It wasn’t until I got to the hotel that I realized exactly how badly I’ve behaved.”
His gut squeezed. “That’s an understatement.”
“I deserved that.” She opened his palm and pressed it against her heart.
Logan’s knees turned to mush. He shook his head. “I can’t—”
“Let me finish.”
Pursing his lips, he gave a nod. The sooner she had her say, the sooner he could take her back to Bigfork.
“I love you.”
“No,” he heard himself say as he shook his head vehemently. “Girls like you don’t fall in love. They are put on the earth to torture guys like me, and that’s how it is.”
“Maybe most guys like you, but definitely not you.” A sultry chuckle rumbled beneath his fingertips. “I realized you were right. About everything.”
“Huh?” If only his knees would work, he might run out the door and never stop. Beauty queens never admitted to being wrong.
Olivia’s tongue tapped her upper lip. “I did put myself first. I did put my need to avenge my parents’ death ahead of my own needs. I did push you away at every turn. And I was wrong. I’m a cocked-up mess.”
“You are.” Damn, he almost smiled.
“But you can help.”
“I don’t think—”
“You have helped me a great deal already.”
He squinted. “What are you saying?”
“I want you.”
“Uh…” Logan’s mind raced. Resisting the temptation to pull her into his arms and forgive everything, he took a deep breath. “Look. I cannot deny that I love you, but I love myself, too. You can’t turn it on and off with me. It’s either all in or all out.”
Her lips curved upward as she pulled his knuckles to her lips and kissed—not a peck, but a warm, lingering kiss that imparted more emotion than a million smiles. Her eyelashes slowly fluttered open and she met his gaze—gorgeous, soulful, blue eyes. Eyes he adored. “Then I’m all in, cowboy.”
The floodgates opened as Logan tugged her into his embrace. Hands went everywhere. Lips fused together as tears dribbled from his eyes and he didn’t care who saw. Bring the entire crew of the Washington to witness him well up. The only woman he’d ever connected with right down to his soul had just declared her love on a promise never to deny him.
She eagerly returned his kisses, lick for lick, swirl for swirl, her hands possessively clutching him against her body. His lips wandered across her cheekbone to her little ear, and she shuddered as he ran his tongue down her neck.
“Make love to me.” Her steamy whisper made his cock stand at attention.
“But what about being sewed back together? Won’t it hurt?”