He was on edge and he knew it. His leg bounced as they sat.
“Stop with the leg,” Annmarie chided. “You’re making me jittery.”
“Sorry.” With effort, he stilled his movement. “I’m nervous. Can’t lie.”
“Don’t be,” she said. Her face looked pale and drawn. “Whatever it is, it is. Worrying won’t change that.”
She was right and he hated it. He tried to think of good things . . . skiing with Tess, or being in bed with her. That only put him a bit more over the edge. Her ovulation cycle past, they were in the No Sex Zone now. It’d been two weeks since he’d been inside her, and every muscle in his body was tense with craving. They still spent time together, continuing the ruse for his mom. But being close to her only amplified his longing and need . . . He wanted her all the time. When he’d told her that on Valentine’s Day, he hadn’t been kidding. And he’d surprised himself with the fervor of his words . . . his feelings.
The doctor came in, greeting them as he closed the door behind him, file folders in his hands. Logan took one look at his face and his heart plummeted to his stomach.
The words came in something of a blur as he listened. The latest scans showed . . . efforts were no longer effective . . . two new tumors in her lymph nodes . . . could go at them aggressively . . . Logan felt dazed. His blood rushed through his body, roaring in his ears and pulsing behind his eyes. His stomach twisted nauseously.
“That’s it then,” Annmarie said quietly. “No more. No more treatment.”
“Mom,” Logan choked out.
She shook her head and held up a hand. “My body. My life. My call.” Her eyes were clear as she looked at her son, then the doctor. “I’m going to die anyway. Time to stop poisoning myself and prolonging it. I go out on my terms.”
Logan swallowed back a rush of bile. His mind raced as he looked frantically from one to the other, but he knew. He knew nothing he said would sway her or change her mind; he’d gotten his stubborn streak from her, after all.
He knew this was the real beginning of the end. The doctor looked a little sad but accepting, as if he’d known this was coming. As they talked, discussing it all, Logan felt sick. Desperate, enraged, and lost. But he held it together. For her. Anything for her. He gazed at her, fists clenched in his lap. She needed his strength and support, now more than ever. He could fall apart at home, in private.
* * *
Tess startled when her doorbell rang at seven in the evening. Sitting in the small room designated as an office, she’d been catching up on work emails at the cherrywood desk. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore her most comfortable black sweater and multicolored leggings. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Maybe Logan had dropped by? She hurried to answer the door and opened it wide.
Logan stood there, looking . . . like something was very, very wrong.
“Hey,” she said softly. All her inner sirens wailed at the look on his face. “What happened? Something happened, I can see it.”
“Can I come in?” His voice was a low, tight rasp.
She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside, closing the door behind him. He stood there silently.
“Is your mother all right?” Tess asked, fearing the answer.
“No,” he said. He shook his head, lifted his eyes to meet hers . . . The pain there took Tess’s breath away. “I . . . I just . . .”
“Shhhh.” She pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. His arms lifted to return the embrace, his hold tight, clinging to her.
“I need you tonight,” he whispered in her ear. “I just needed to see you.”
“I’m here,” she whispered. She pulled back to look into his eyes and touched his face. “I’m here, honey.”
His eyes filled with tears and it was a kick to her stomach. “I can’t talk.”
“You don’t have to.” She peeled him out of his coat, got him to kick off his boots, and took him by the hand. She led him up to her bedroom and nudged him to sit down on her bed. He watched without a word as she flicked the switch to start the gas fireplace, then turned off the lights. “Come here, you.”
She lay down on the bed, pulling him down with her, then curled herself around his large, solid body. Dropping a kiss on his cheek, she burrowed into him as his arms banded around her. Her head on his chest, she heard the thick pounding of his heart, felt the way his fingers held tight, and her heart ached for him. She caressed his arm, his beard, his chest as they lay there for a long time, holding each other in the near dark.
“Thanks for this,” he finally whispered after an hour.
“You don’t have to thank me,” she said. “Feel any better yet?”
“A little, actually.” His hand ran up and down her back. “You soothe me.”
“Good, I’m glad. Can you tell me what happened?”
He gave her the short version, his voice low and ragged. Her eyes squeezed shut at the horrible news. His fingers sifted through her hair as he talked, but she now understood the coiled tension in his muscles. When he finished, she whispered kindness and leaned up to press her lips to his.
They kissed languidly, sweetly, a joining of mouths with affection, not lust or duty. But soon the kisses deepened, tongues swirling and hands roaming, sparking heat that burned with a hint of urgency.
“I need you,” he whispered, husky and a bit desperate.
“I’m right here,” she whispered back with warm assurance.
* * *
They made slow, tender love by the flickering light of the fire. She held him close as their bodies rocked together, as he lost himself in the sweet escape of her body. He kissed her, stroked her, looked deep into her eyes as he moved inside her. And she met his searching gaze, his languorous thrusts, his every need at every point. She was a goddess, a savior, a lifeline. When she came, she held him so close it was if they were one. His orgasm rolled through him and he sailed over the precipice in relief, holding her tight as he found release, saying her name over and over like a prayer.
Covered in a light sheen of sweat, they stared into each other’s eyes and kissed, a million sweet and tiny sips as their bodies calmed.
“You need to raise your hips,” he murmured.
“Not tonight,” she said. “I need to hold you and not let go.”
His mind reeled. In his angry grief, he’d come to her. After settling his mother in at her house, he’d driven straight to Tess’s house without conscious thought. And Tess had welcomed him without a moment’s pause, giving him the support, comfort, and affection he needed so desperately. Her. He needed her desperately. She was all he wanted.
He hovered over her, pushed back her hair from her face, and stared into her beautiful blue eyes. Emotions rolled through him, waves of warmth and connection. He pressed his lips to hers. “You’re amazing.”
She only smiled and kissed him back.
He rolled, pulling her with him until they settled side by side, still locked in an embrace. “I’m wiped out,” he murmured. “What a day . . .”
“So go to sleep,” she said, stroking his beard.
He glanced down at her. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. Do you want to leave this bed right now?”
“Not for all the money in the world.”
“So give in. Go to sleep.” She kissed his cheek and added in a whisper, “It’s okay.”
Suddenly overcome by exhaustion, he kissed her once more and closed his eyes.
He woke with a start in a dark room. Disoriented, he tried to piece together where he was . . . Hair tickled his chest. Tess’s warm body was aligned with his. He had no idea what time it was. She slept soundly, curled into his side. He listened to her slow, deep breathing, letting it hypnotize him back to sleep.
When he opened his eyes again, there was light. Dark gray light poured in from the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of Tess’s bedroom. The forest and mountains were barely visible outside, but still a stunning view. He lifted his head to look over Tess’s sleeping body to
the alarm clock on the nightstand. It was just past six in the morning. This was usually when he woke for the day, but he felt tired deep in his bones. He let himself give in and closed his eyes once more.
Movement on his arm jostled him out of sleep . . . a tiny wet tongue on his face. Sputtering, he raised up on his elbows, then laughed. Tess wasn’t licking him awake, Bubbles was.
“Naughty girl,” Tess reprimanded the dog. “Let him sleep!” She gave Bubbles a gentle push away from Logan.
“It’s fine,” he said, flopping back down. Sunlight peeked from between thick clouds over the mountains. Again, he gazed at the view, enjoying it. Then he realized he was waking up in that big cozy bed beside Tess for the first time, and he wanted to savor it. The bed felt as amazing as he’d always suspected it would, but waking up with her was even more amazing. Warmth stole through him. He pulled her in close and lightly kissed her lips. “Good morning, beautiful.”
“Good morning.” She smiled, a lazy, sweet curve of her mouth. “How’d you sleep?”
“Both like a rock, and restlessly,” he said. “It was weird. When I was asleep, it was so deep, I didn’t even dream. But I woke up a few times . . . Guess my brain wouldn’t let me be.”
“I’m not surprised.” She gripped his chin and pressed kisses to his mouth. “Glad you slept at all. You needed it.”
“Yeah, I did.” He trailed a fingertip along her cheek. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”
“Thanks for not arguing with me. I could see you needed to pass out.”
“I did. I . . . I needed to be here with you.” He only realized just how much as he said the words. His throat got a little thick. “You gave me the comfort I needed last night. Thank you. You’re an incredible friend.”
“I’m glad I could give you what you needed,” she murmured. She kissed him once more, then sat up. “How about coffee? Can I make you some breakfast?”
“Yes to the coffee,” he said. “But I’m making you breakfast. Time to treat you with my culinary skills.”
“On top of your already incredible bedroom skills? You’re a man of many talents.” She got out of bed and he relished the view of her lithe naked body. He tried to ignore his morning wood as she crossed the room to grab her soft red robe. But as she pushed her feet into the matching slippers, she eyed his growing erection. “How about after breakfast, we take care of that . . . ?”
His cock twitched at the thought. “I like how you think, lady.”
He pulled on his jeans, didn’t bother with the sweater, then made himself comfortable in her kitchen. Enjoying the space and high-end appliances, it was a pleasure to make omelets with onions, mushrooms, and Swiss cheese. She toasted some whole wheat bread and made coffee. They sat at the kitchen table and ate together in quiet comfort.
“This is really nice,” he said.
“It is.” She smiled. “And you’re a great cook. Thanks for this.”
“That’s nothing,” he asserted. “I really can cook, you know. I need to cook for you more often.”
“Then do it. Stay over more often and cook for me.” Her eyes sparkled.
The words were playful, but they set off something inside him.
Being with her felt so natural, so right, because it was. Yesterday, when his world teetered off its axis, he’d gone running to her. She’d been like a beacon in the storm . . . and she’d given him exactly what he needed, and so much more.
Somehow, she’d become the best, brightest part of his life. She understood him, was there for him without hesitation, and appreciated him. She made him laugh. She made him burn with desire. She was a supportive friend, a sensual lover, a smart and insightful woman he had utmost respect for. She brought out the best in him, things in him he’d buried so deep, so long ago, he’d forgotten they existed. He gazed at her now, realizing the quiet but unavoidable truth: He loved her.
How the hell had that happened? It was supposed to be a deal, plain and simple. A carefully planned arrangement. Friends with benefits, not deep true love. He didn’t do relationships, dammit. He kept himself isolated on purpose; he wanted no ties to people . . . so he’d never get hurt again like he had before. This was shattering.
“You just disappeared into your head,” she said gently. “Want to share?”
He cleared his throat, suddenly dry. No, he didn’t want to share. He needed time to wrap his head around this. He needed to stomp it down where it belonged, into the ground. She was counting on him to be only her friend, no strings attached. To get her pregnant, with a baby he’d already signed away his rights to, so she could go back to New York and live her life, with him in the rearview mirror, an appreciated footnote in the long story of her life.
She touched his hand, a feather’s touch, leaning in to peer harder. It made his heart skip a beat. This beautiful woman . . . God, she owned his heart. Holy fuck, his head was spinning.
“Hey. Logan.” She frowned, eyes searching. “You okay?”
He had to say something. To at least tell her she meant the world to him. If he started now, maybe one day she could look back and know how much he’d cared, and he’d have that much. Because loving her, having anything more with her than what they had now, wasn’t an option. “Tess, I—”
There were voices, the jangling of keys, and the front door closed. Both of their heads swiveled toward it in alarm. Tess’s hand tightened on his. “Someone’s here.”
“What the hell—?” Logan began, but his question died in the air.
“Hello?” a familiar male voice called out. “Tess?”
“Oh my God,” she breathed, eyes round with horror. Her eyes flickered over Logan’s shirtless torso, her own robe-clad body. But there was no time. A few seconds later, her three brothers stood in the kitchen doorway. Tall, strong men, frozen in their tracks, three pairs of bright blue eyes wide with shock.
Logan drew a long sigh.
“Thought I smelled something cooking,” Pierce quipped.
Chapter Twenty
“What are you guys doing here?” Tess asked. Her heart pounded in her ribs. This was not how she’d wanted them to find out about her plans. Oh God, this was going to be something.
“We thought we’d surprise you,” Dane said.
“Feels more like an ambush,” she said flatly.
“Not at all!” Dane exclaimed. “But yeah . . . this is awkward. Fuck.”
“Hello, Logan,” Charles said. His voice was calm, but sharp. “So . . . you’ve been keeping Tess company. Interesting.”
Logan nodded to all three of them in greeting, then turned to Tess and murmured, “I’ll stay if you want, but I think you need to talk to them without me here.”
“That’s probably best,” she agreed. “Thanks.”
He rose from his seat. He was a few inches taller than any of her brothers, and twice as built, a solid wall of muscle. Looking especially strong without any shirt on, his jeans slung low on his narrow hips, she marveled at him for the thousandth time.
“Take it easy on her, okay?” he said to them. “Let her talk.”
A muscle twitched under Charles’s eye as he said curtly, “Don’t tell us how to handle our sister.”
“She doesn’t need handling,” Logan said, a little terse. “That’s the point.”
“Thanks for the tip,” Pierce said. “But we know that.”
“I love getting advice on how to deal with my sister,” Dane said, “from someone who barely knows her.”
“I don’t know what I love more,” Tess said from her seat. “When people talk about me like I’m not right here, or when my clueless brothers are rude to my friends.”
“Looks like more than friends,” Dane noted.
She bristled, and opened her mouth to speak. But Logan spoke first.
“Whatever we are,” he asserted, “it’s none of your business. Last time I checked, Tess was a grown woman with her own life.”
“You’re starting to get on my nerves,” Dane growled.
�
�I’ve always liked you, Logan,” Charles rumbled. “But you’re on thin ice at the moment.”
“Really.” Logan didn’t move a muscle, but the vibe emanating off him was raw power. “How so? Enlighten me.”
“Push me and find out,” Charles replied, his stare and voice like steel. “Maybe I don’t like the shock of walking into my house to find the house manager half-naked with my sister.”
“Maybe it’s not our business,” Pierce pointed out, “and everyone should calm down.”
But Logan glared at Charles. “And there we go,” he said. “It’s down to that, huh? The house manager.” His chiseled arms crossed over his broad chest, making his biceps bulge a little. “Tell me, how’s your wife doing? The one who started out as your nanny. Or should I say, the nanny? Must be a nice view from that high horse of yours.”
Charles’s face flushed with rage and he opened his mouth to speak.
“All of you shut up!” Tess shot to her feet, shoving her chair back with a scrape against the tile floor. “Jesus, this is just . . .” She looked to Logan. “I don’t need defending, but thank you for wanting to. I’ll call you later, okay?”
His jaw set tight, he simply nodded and walked out of the kitchen.
“What the hell, Tess?” Dane asked. “This is your big secret? Why you’re staying away from home, not returning calls? You could’ve—”
“This is my life!” she yelled. All three men stilled, eyes again widening with shock. She hadn’t shouted at them in anger in years. Blood pumping through her veins, she pulled the sash on her robe tighter before advancing on them.
“I don’t have to tell you anything if I don’t want to! I don’t have to answer to anyone on this goddamn earth!” She felt the blood pulse in her head, her skin heat as her heart rate skyrocketed. “How dare you. How dare you all walk in here and condescend to Logan. He’s become an amazing friend to me, and has been hardworking and loyal to our family for several years.” She glared at Charles. “You owe him more respect than that.” She looked to Dane. “You both owe him an apology.” She looked between them and snapped, “Considering you both ended up marrying your employees, from lower income brackets than you were in, you have a hell of a nerve walking in here and trying to dismiss him like that when you know nothing about our situation.” Her eyes narrowed at Charles as she added, “He was right to call you on your hypocrisy. I’m horrified.”
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