by Cathie Linz
“No, we can’t,” she said fiercely. “We’ve been fighting this forever.” She cupped his erection, full and hot, in her hand. “I’m done fighting. Make love, not war.”
He rolled on the condom. She reached for him and guided him into her. He rocked against her, sending her to a new level of sensual bliss. Her pleasure increased with every thrust he made until she reached the pinnacle and flew over the edge.
His ensuing shout of satisfaction brought a smile to her lips. She was too steeped in sexual delight to speak for several minutes.
“Was that your stomach growling or mine?” she asked.
“They don’t feed you on the damn planes anymore.”
“We better order room service. I have a feeling you’re going to need to keep up your stamina.” She placed her hand over his lips. “And don’t say that’s not the only thing you need to keep up.”
He nipped her finger before licking the center of her palm. “As if I’d say such a thing.”
“How many condoms did you bring?”
“Not enough. Order more when you order room service.”
“I’m pretty sure condoms aren’t on the menu.”
“I suppose I could go down to the gift shop and get a box.”
He rolled away from her and put on his briefs and jeans. He pulled a plain black T-shirt from his duffle bag. She sat up, tugging a sheet around her. “Don’t be long.”
He returned to kneel on the bed and kiss her senseless. “Don’t worry, I’ll hurry.”
He did. He was back in time for them to make love again before the room service she’d ordered arrived.
She’d taken a quick shower while he dealt with the hotel employee who brought their meal. “Steak,” he said approvingly.
“Protein for your . . . stamina.”
“Strawberries and whipped cream.”
“For dessert.”
“I can hardly wait.”
They shared their food, Logan offering her a taste of his steak while she offered him a taste of her asparagus. But dessert was the most fun of all. He dipped a strawberry in the bowl of whipped cream and offered it to her. She took a bite. So did he. Then he kissed the fruity juice from her lips before scooping her in his arms and dumping her on the tousled bed. “I’m a detective. I interrogate people for a living. I detect that you make this sexy kind of little gasp when I touch you right here. But I need to know more. Does this feel better?”
“That feels so good it should be criminal.”
“How about this?” He reached for the bowl of whipped cream and placed a dollop on the tip of her breast. She shivered at the chill followed by the heat of his tongue lapping at her.
Later, when they were both nude, she returned the favor by placing a generous bit of whipped cream on the tip of his penis. His groans of pleasure made her feel powerful as she seduced him the way he’d done her.
The next morning, Megan sat on the straight-backed chair and nibbled on the fresh fruit they’d had brought to the room. She was wearing a blue cotton shirt of his and nothing else. The hem of his shirt hit her above her knees but that didn’t stop him from leering at her.
“What is it with you and loose shirts?” she asked. “Most guys like tight T-shirts, preferably wet, tight T-shirts.”
“You don’t have to flaunt what you’ve got. I prefer to explore your . . . riches on my own.”
“So you’re an explorer now, hmm?”
He stood her up and backed her against the wall. He held her wrists above her head with one hand, which lifted the hem of the shirt she wore, giving him easy access. “An explorer and a miner. Searching for gold.” He slid his index finger into her, brushing her most sensitive places. “I think I found it. A very rich vein.”
She tilted her head against the wall as orgasmic tremors consumed her body.
“Should I stop . . . or explore more?” he murmured.
“More,” she whispered.
“Hmm. Which way to go? Is there more gold here?” He brushed his thumb over her clitoris. “Or here?”
Every nerve was singing with divine bliss as he continued having his very wicked way with her.
By the time they left D.C. on Sunday morning, they had made a sizeable dent in the box of condoms. Megan fell asleep during the flight, with her head on Logan’s shoulder.
She woke up a few minutes before they landed. “I was dreaming about your grandfather,” she said. “You should thank Buddy for caring enough about you to do that intervention.”
“If I do, do you promise to wear that oversized I LOVE D.C. T-shirt I bought you at the airport?”
Megan smiled her best vixen smile. “I promise.”
Logan entered his grandfather’s house to find Buddy sitting on the couch, watching the Bears game.
“How was D.C.?” he asked Logan.
Logan helped himself to a beer from the fridge and joined Buddy before replying. “D.C. was good.”
“You and Megan do a lot of sightseeing?”
“None at all.” He took a sip of beer from the can. “What’s the score?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Buddy grumbled. “But you’re not cooperating much.”
“I was referring to the football game.”
“It’s seven to fourteen.”
“Who are we playing?”
“The Redskins. You know, that team from D.C.”
Logan grinned. “They’re actually in Maryland. Interrogate me all you want, I’m not saying anything more about my trip.”
“You don’t have to. I can tell by the look on your face that things are good with you and Megan.”
Logan let his grandfather’s comment go without responding.
“Fine,” Buddy grumbled. “If you won’t confide in me, then do me a different favor.”
“Depends what it is.”
“Put that St. Michael’s medallion your mother gave you back on. Don’t look so surprised. I know, even if she doesn’t, that you took it off when Will was killed. But you need to put it back on now. It’s time.”
Logan didn’t know what to say.
“Promise me,” Buddy insisted. “Put it on today.”
“Fine. I’ll put it on.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that. And I’m glad to hear that you and Megan had a good time in D.C. So you’re a couple now, right?”
Logan didn’t answer, instead focusing on the game and the pass interference call that was called on the Bears’ defense. He waited for a commercial before hitting the mute button on the remote and stealing the last potato chips from the bowl between them. “About the last time we got together . . . I know I was grumpy at the time, but I appreciate what you did. With that intervention. I needed help and you gave it.”
“You come by your grumpiness honestly,” Buddy said. “And I’m glad you realize that you needed help. Even the toughest people have their limits, you know.”
“Does that include you?”
Buddy nodded.
For the first time, Logan noticed how pale he looked. “Hey, are you okay?”
“Sure now, boy-o.” He stood up and grabbed the bowl to get more chips. “Don’t you be worrying about me.” Then he collapsed.
Chapter Seventeen
“Gramps!” Logan caught him before he fell to the floor.
As he held his grandfather and lowered him to the ground, Logan was instantly hit with the memory of holding Will the same way. Panic knifed through him before he shoved it aside. He was trained to expect the unexpected. He could do this.
He automatically checked his grandfather’s pulse with one hand while calling 911 with the other. Buddy’s heart was still beating, thank God. His breathing was shallow, though, and his color wasn’t good. He’d lost consciousness but Logan kept talking to him anyway until the EMTs arrived. He also kept giving updates to the emergency dispatcher. The ambulance arrived in less than five minutes. The fire station was only a few blocks away.
His grandfather used to joke that’s
why he’d bought the house: to be close to an ambulance should he ever need one. It was no joke now as Logan watched the paramedics working on Buddy.
“What medications is he on? Any medical conditions? A pacemaker? Heart trouble?” they asked.
Logan answered as best he could. He handed them the list of medications that the Aunts had insisted Buddy post on the freezer door after they’d read an article about senior safety. “He had triple bypass surgery about ten years ago. No trouble since then though.”
Buddy didn’t regain consciousness until they loaded him on a gurney. He removed his oxygen mask. “Ingrid,” he gasped. “Get Ingrid!”
“You sound better,” Megan told Faith as she entered her cousin’s condo with a care package. “I brought you homemade chicken soup and your fave mac and cheese from the Comfort Café.”
“Do you think you can bribe me with food?”
“Bribe you?”
Faith nodded. “So I’d forgive you for breaking a pinkie swear.”
“I pinkie swore not to do anything foolish. I didn’t consider what I was planning to be foolish. I know better now.”
“Ya think?”
Megan hung her head.
“I was worried sick about you. Well, I was already sick, but you know what I mean. I couldn’t go after you myself. I couldn’t send your dad since I promised I wouldn’t tell him anything about the search for your mom.” Faith grabbed the bag of food from her and curled up on the couch with a comfy microfiber throw. She opened the soup container and used the spoon provided by the café to start eating. “Mmm, this is soooo good. It’s a variation on chicken soup. It’s more like a stracciatelli soup with eggs, orzo and finely grated Parmesan cheese.” She paused to close her eyes in epicurean delight. When she opened them, she said, “Okay, there’s a chance I’ll forgive you but only after you tell me everything that happened. All you said on the phone was that it didn’t go well but that you were okay. Are you really okay?”
“I’m better than I was.”
“And did a sexy Chicago cop named Logan have anything to do with that?”
“I couldn’t believe he flew all the way to D.C. to check on me. He said you sent him.”
“I just asked him if he’d heard from you and shared my concerns about you going on your own. He had me check your credit card records, and the second we found out you’d charged a ticket and a hotel room, he was off to rescue you. We had no way of knowing if things were going well or not with your mom. Logan said if it went well, he’d celebrate with you. Luckily he had the weekend off, because he’d been putting in so many extra hours. And he has a cousin who works for the airlines.”
“Yes, he told me.”
“Tell me what happened with your mom first, then I want to hear every detail about Logan making you feel better. What did your mother do to make you feel so badly?”
“The bottom line is that she didn’t want me looking for her. She told me she was the one who told my dad to say she was dead so I wouldn’t go after her someday.”
Faith’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Those were her words. She didn’t tell me that until after I’d made a fool of myself, going on about how I’d been searching for her after only recently discovering she was alive. I even brought the photos I got from Fiona of them at Woodstock. She looked at them without any sign of emotion. She showed no emotion the entire time I was there. I thought at first maybe she didn’t believe that I was who I said I was so I showed her my driver’s license. That didn’t really help.”
“Oh, Megan, I’m so sorry. I’d hug you but I don’t want to give you any germs I may still have.”
“You did try to warn me.”
“Yes, but to actually say that she was the one who concocted the story that she was dead.” Faith shook her head. “I don’t know how to respond to that.”
“I didn’t know how to respond either. I apologized for bothering her and got out of there as fast as I could.”
“You must have been devastated. Here.” Faith handed her the unopened container of mac and cheese. “Have some of this. It will make you feel better. Here’s an unopened plastic-covered fork.”
“Thanks.” Megan took a bite and chewed slowly. “I think the reason she was so hard to locate was that she didn’t want me finding her.” She put a hand to her throat as emotion gripped her. She set the food on the coffee table. “That’s pretty hard to take, you know? What does it say about me that my own mother couldn’t love me?”
“That you had a rotten mother.”
“She deserted me when I was two years old.”
“Look at it this way. Would it have been better if she’d stuck around and constantly made you feel unwanted? Instead, you were raised by your dad, who loved you to bits and still does.”
“If he’d only told me that she didn’t want to see me ...”
“Would you have believed him?”
“Maybe not,” Megan admitted. “I was pretty swept up with the idea of having a mother of my own.”
“Besides, he didn’t even know you were looking for her.”
“She didn’t keep her Woodstock jeans,” Megan said abruptly.
Faith blinked. “Huh?”
“She and Fiona had promised to keep their jeans forever. The ones they wore at Woodstock. Fiona kept hers. Astrid didn’t. She said it was a stupid promise so I asked her if her promise in marrying my dad was stupid.”
“Wow. What did she say to that?”
“That it was a personal question. I told her this was allpersonal. She didn’t see it that way. She was so cold. Detached.”
“Good riddance to her. You’re better off without her. I know you don’t think that yet, but you will. Enough about her. Let’s get back to Logan.”
“I was pretty upset when he showed up.”
“I can imagine.”
“I felt numb.”
Faith grinned. “I’ll bet he cured you of that feeling.”
“He was really understanding about it all.”
“And?”
“And he was patient when I cried.”
“And?”
Megan smiled. “And we didn’t leave the hotel room until we headed back here.”
“Really. You didn’t go sightseeing?”
“Not of D.C.”
“Oh ho. So you were sightseeing and touring one Logan Doyle, eh? You’re blushing. A lot. It was that good, huh?”
Megan nodded.
“So something good came out of something bad,” Faith said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that the something bad obviously was the meeting with your . . . with Astrid,” she automatically corrected herself. “That woman is no mother. And the something good is Logan.”
“It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it’s not. Relationships rarely are.”
“I’m in a relationship with Logan,” Megan said with a sense of awe.
Faith laughed. “That’s only just now occurring to you?”
“I was distracted before.”
“And you claimed you didn’t want to be distracted. I told you that distraction can be wonderful. So now that you know that, what are you going to do about it?”
“Do about it?”
“Where do you see things going between you and Logan?”
“I see us going to bed a lot. I don’t know what will happen. You need to be tough to be in love with a cop.”
“We already had this discussion. You’re tough but nice.”
“Yes, but am I tough enough to handle him being in such a dangerous profession? I don’t know. Being bold and brave aren’t the first things that come to mind when I think of my strengths.”
“You don’t think it was bold and brave to take off on your own to D.C.?”
“Look how well that turned out.”
“But you survived. What doesn’t destroy you strengthens you. You’ve got the T-shirt with that Nietzsche quote.”
“You got it fo
r me.”
“Because it’s true.”
“For you, maybe.”
“For you, for sure,” Faith said.
“I’m not the one who took off on my Italian honeymoon on my own.”
“No, you’re the one who took off on a road trip with a sexy cop in the middle of the night from Vegas.”
“I didn’t think it would turn into a road trip.”
“You don’t give yourself enough credit,” Faith said.
“The fact that Astrid rejected me might have something to do with that.”
“Don’t let her do that to you. Don’t give her that kind of power over you. Focus instead on the way Logan makes you feel.”
Megan smiled slowly. “He makes me feel pretty damn awesome.”
“Yeah?”
Megan nodded. “His detecting and interrogating skills are remarkable.”
Her BlackBerry vibrated. She checked caller ID. “It’s Logan.”
“My grandfather collapsed and is in the ER,” he said. “He wants Ingrid.”
“Is he going to be okay?”
“They don’t know yet. Can you bring her?”
“Of course.” She got the name of the hospital. “We’ll be there as fast as we can.”
“What’s going on?” Faith asked.
“Buddy collapsed and he’s in the hospital asking for Gram.”
Forty minutes later, Megan accompanied Gram into the ER. She found Logan in the crowded waiting room. He was pacing. “How’s Buddy?” Gram demanded, her voice strained. “What do the doctors say?”
“They think it’s his heart,” Logan said, “but they’re still running tests.”
“Can I see him?” Gram asked.
Logan shook his head. “Not yet. They’re not letting any of us in to see him right now.”
“He’s not going to die, is he?” Tears welled in Gram’s eyes. “Tell me he’s not going to die.”
“My dad is too stubborn to die,” an older man said. “Not gonna happen. Not on my watch.”
“Are you a doctor?” Megan asked.
“I’m Logan’s dad.”
“And Buddy’s son,” Gram added. “Where are the Aunts?”