Page 49 of Logan

“Come on, zombie Viv. Have a seat, and let me get some food in you. You’re always a nicer zombie when your belly is full.”

Attempting to cast a glare in his direction, he had already turned his back, so she shuffled over and plopped down in a chair. She’d barely sat when Sakari jumped into her lap. Seeing Logan plate scrambled eggs, sausage, and pancakes perked her up.

“Pancakes? I love pancakes.” Her smile, wider now, beamed up at him.

“See what I mean? Get you interested in food, and my girl’s smile comes out of hiding.”

She felt the butterflies in her stomach as his words,my girl,slid over her. She watched as he laughed before sitting downnext to her, and Sakari moved from her lap to his. He ate with one hand while petting the sweet cat with the other. Sucking in a deep breath, she turned her attention to her pancakes, finding them fluffy and light, just the way she liked them.

“How about we talk about you first before I start checking into next door,” she suggested as she trailed the last bite of pancake through the syrup before closing her lips over the fork in ecstasy. When he didn’t reply, she turned to look at him. His eyes were locked on her mouth as she licked the syrup off. “Logan?”

He blinked slowly before his gaze drifted back to hers. Letting his breath out slowly, he said, “Damn. That was sexy.”

“Me eating pancakes?”

“You. Your mouth around that fork. That syrup on your lips. And where I’d like to put that syrup on you so I can lick it off myself.”

She leaned forward until she was a breath away from his lips. “Talk first, sex later.”

Kissing her quickly, he shook his head as he took the plates to the sink. “You drive a hard bargain, woman.”

Having determined that the lab work was being accomplished when Malik, Rashad, or Nafisa were next door, they settled in the living room so they could talk while keeping an eye on the neighbor’s driveway.

“I feel like I should be taking notes on you.”

“So what do you need to know to feel like you’re a Logan expert?”

“I guess the same things we went over about me. Your family. Your career. And how you ended up here as a mechanic known as Logan Preacher.”

“Grew up in the middle of nowhere Kansas on a farm.”

“I can imagine you as a dark-headed little boy running around a farm.”

Chuckling, he said, “The farm has been in my family since my great-grandfather.” His voice softened as he shifted his eyes, focusing on a distant point on the wall. “Clean air. Crops. Cows. Hard work from sunup to sundown.”

She watched the play of emotions flit over his face. Understanding dawned, and she didn’t need to ask, instead stating, “And it wasn’t what you wanted to do.”

His gaze moved back to her, and his lips curved gently. “First time I saw a Navy commercial on TV, I was totally gone—gone off the farm in the middle of the country. I wanted water, boats, submarines… if it had to do with the Navy, I wanted it. By the time I graduated from high school, I had spent more time at the recruiter’s office than I had anywhere else. When I found out about SEALs, I knew.” The intensity in his stare seared through her. “Have you ever wanted something so bad it was all you thought about?”

Shifting on the sofa to get more comfortable, she felt a pang of envy—she loved her job but had never felt about it the way Logan described the Navy. She shook her head slowly. “I wish…but no…not so far.”

“My recruiter wanted me to join right away, but I wanted a college degree so I could be an officer. I went to Kansas State on an ROTC scholarship. I did four years, finished, and then headed to the Navy. I did basic training and officer school before being accepted for SEAL training.”

She sat, entranced at the emotion pouring from him in a way she’d never heard before.

“I still remember the first time I was out on a ship. I stood on deck and watched the shore recede into the background. Thought about what it must have been like for those sailors of centuries ago, not knowing what or who was out there.”

They were quiet for a moment as she gave him time for his memories to slide over him. Finally, with a head jerk, he said,“Anyway, I was accepted and made it through each level. Special Warfare Prep School, Basic Underwater Demolition, Parachute Jump, and SEAL Qualification. Hard as shit, but had the best team. I’d been flying my family’s crop-dusting plane since I was a teen, so I also did pilot training.”

“What happened?”

“I fuckin’ loved my job… best job and the greatest friends. But on the last mission, things got fucked. One of my team was shot and had gone down. Our rescue helicopter had arrived, and we had to get out of there. It was too hot…too much firepower getting rained down on us. The whole mission was fucked if we didn’t get out. I heard him shout and turned back to get him. Managed to pick him up and jog toward the bird.”

He was silent, his eyes stormy as they settled on the wall opposite him. “Almost fuckin’ made it.” He shook his head, almost in disbelief. “Managed to get close but then went down as an explosion hit nearby. We got into the bird, but I tore my knee to hell. Damn near shredded it.”

She winced in sympathy as she watched him rub his left knee absentmindedly. Reaching toward him, she placed her hand on his leg gently so as not to disturb his memories but to remind him that he was alive.

He looked over and smiled, placing his large hand over hers and squeezing. “It’s all good, Viv. No one can be a SEAL forever.”

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