Thank God for Clementine.
She was the only light in my life.
I needed sleep.
After that, I could determine better what I should do.
Perhaps my sadness was simply a function of lack of sleep.
Just as I started to drift off, my cell phone began to ring. I anxiously grabbed for it. Blocked caller flashed on my screen. I refused to answer it, but that didn’t stop my heart from pounding faster and faster.
It had to be the same person who had called me days ago.
Fear.
Fear like I’ve never known seized me.
For some unknown reason, this caller scared me more than anything.
A minute later a text message appeared. It read, You made the right choice. Keep on the correct path and little lives will remain safe.
My hand flew to my mouth.
Oh God.
He was threating Clementine!
What did he want?
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
My body began to shake.
Ding dong. Ding dong. Ding dong.
I was so afraid.
Who was here?
Was it the caller?
Was it someone on Tommy’s behalf?
Was it the Irish Mob?
Knock, knock.
My pulse was racing.
Knock, knock.
Heart hammering against my ribs, I jumped out of bed—it felt like I was jumping out of my skin.
I didn’t know what to do.
Where was the security team Logan had arranged to watch my townhome?
An adrenaline rush kicked me into gear.
They had to be here.
Terrified, I grabbed my gun from the bedside table and hurried to the window to see if their car was still parked out front. My hand was trembling so much as I peeked out the closed blinds to the street below that I could barely pull them open.
The incessant ringing of my doorbell and the pounding on my front door wasn’t stopping.
Then, as I looked down, my terror ceased immediately.
Relief set in.
The Rover was parked right in front of my house, haphazardly squeezed in between two cars and partly up on the sidewalk.
It was Logan at my door.
I didn’t know what he was doing here but I didn’t care.
I needed him.
Right now, I didn’t care about anything other than him.
Him being here was all that mattered.
Needing to see him, feel him, hold him, I put my gun away and quickly grabbed a blanket off my bed. Wrapping it around me, I rushed for the door. “I’m coming!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. As I ran down the steps, the doorbell was still ringing and the pounding was still occurring. Faster and faster I went. I wanted to get to him just as much as he wanted to get to me.
In his arms, I knew I’d feel safe.
I reached the foyer quickly and without looking, I turned the alarm off and swung open the door. The streetlights were still on and shone behind him in a way that highlighted everything he was.
Strong.
Dauntless.
Confident.
Sexy.
My protector.
A feeling of intoxication overcame me as I drank him in. There he stood in his track pants, long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers, soaked to the bone. Noticing this, I was suddenly alarmed. “Logan, what’s the matter?” I asked.
“I need to talk to you.” He stepped in without being invited and I didn’t care.
Still shaking from the text, I had a hard time focusing.
He closed and locked the door, reengaged the security system, and then turned to me.
I watched as the water dripped off him in excess. As it puddled on the floor, as it flowed beneath my bare feet. With a tug of my arm he moved me away from the cold water.
I couldn’t help but stare at him. Had he known how much I needed him right now? Or did he need me? “What is it? What happened? You look shaken,” I asked all at once.
His eyes were so intense as they stared back at me. “Together, Elle, I pick together.”
That didn’t answer my question, but it told me what he was doing here.
My emotions wouldn’t register. They were all over the place. I’d asked him to pick, and when he didn’t pick me, it left me more than a little shattered.
But now, now he was picking me.
He’d picked me.
That’s why he was here.
In my time of need.
My emotions were a conflicting mess.
Shock.
Elation.
Love.
Confusion.
My heart forgot to beat. My lungs forgot to breathe. My eyes forgot to blink. So many feelings were flowing through my veins that I wasn’t certain which one I should be feeling right now, or if any of this was even real.
With a slight hesitation in his movement, he took a tentative step toward me. “I want to move forward with you. I pick you, Elle. I pick you over being cautious, being scared, or trying to figure things out alone. I pick you.”
Unguarded, I was hopeless to answer him. I didn’t know what to say, but then I looked up and saw so much pain and regret in his face. I had a choice. I could turn him away or I could take a leap of faith. I didn’t know what to do. What I did know was that I loved him, and of all the crappy things I might have known about love, I knew for certain that it was never perfect. People made mistakes and people hurt each other. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes not. Life didn’t always have a happily-ever-after, but maybe together we could try to make one.
“Am I too late?” Logan asked.
It was then that I realized I hadn’t said anything.
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes as I took one step closer to him. And then another. And one more, and finally my bare toes were touching his wet sneakers. I shook my head and nodded at the same time. “I don’t understand. What’s changed?”
Linking his fingers between mine, he answered, “I want you. Me. Us. I know we have to be cautious but I want to face the future with you, not without you. Will you let me pick you?”
I was finding it hard to breathe. I didn’t know what to do. But the way he was standing there looking so uncertain, I knew there was no way I could turn him away. He needed me. And I needed him like I needed air to breathe. I had to have faith he wouldn’t leave me again, and I did. My heart felt so full. I believed every word he’d just told me. Without any doubts, I smiled and said, “Yes,” and then to make certain he understood me, I repeated myself. “Yes, yes, yes.”
His hands grabbed my face and he brought his mouth to mine. Slow, burning kisses with feather brushes of his lips on mine made my stomach flip, but then when he pressed harder and slipped his tongue inside my mouth, I felt those beloved butterflies take flight.
I thought I might be dreaming, but the cold wetness of his hard body told me I wasn’t. “Take this off,” I demanded, tugging at his T-shirt.
His answering grin was utterly charming and adorable. It was the look that said sex was on his mind. It was the look I had missed so very much.
The blanket slid off my shoulders and impatiently I helped him strip his wet shirt over his head.
When it fell to the floor, he gripped my hips and tugged me flush to his body. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed you?”
Every part of me had an idea, because it must have been as much as I’d missed him. “Logan,” I breathed.
His hands roamed my body, over my hips, stopping to finger the elastic of my sleep shorts, up the torso of my camisole, and stopping again to cup my breasts. “Yes,” he responded with a nip at the sweet spot on my neck he knew drove me wild.
“You have to promise me that was the last time you’ll leave me. No matter what. I can’t go through this again.”
He toed his sneakers off. “I can’t either, Elle. And I never want to.”
My fingers went to his waistband and I pushed his wet track pants down. “Promise me, Logan. Promise me.”
Standing in his boxer briefs with his wet clothes surrounding us, he wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. “I promise you, Elle, I promise.”