Page 60 of Seven of Hearts

“Are you?” he pressed.

I shrugged. “I’m not opposed to the idea.”

Will chuckled. “It’s a yes or no question, Logan.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “But I don’t think she’s there. She doesn’t actually need me for much.”

“How do you know if you don’t try?” he asked. “Show her that she’s your priority. Show her what she means to you. Show her that you’re all in.”

This time I left Will to stew on the dock.

I jogged into the house and threw my shit into a bag. I made one stop before flooring it back to Leah’s apartment within the hour.

Thank goodness for small towns.

I tried to let myself in, but the door was locked. At least she was safe.

I shuffled the two takeout containers into one hand and knocked. There was a thump and a scuffle inside before the door finally opened.

“What are you?—”

I cut her off with a kiss.

Leah squeaked, stumbling back into the apartment. I dropped the takeout containers onto the kitchen counter and let my duffel bag fall from my shoulder.

“Logan,” she said in a gasp as she panted for breath. Her fingers curled around the front of my dress shirt. “What the hell was that for?”

I reached into her hair and opened the claw clip that held it in a pile, letting it spill in waves down her back. “I’m sorry I walked away. I shouldn’t have left. Let me make it up to you.”

Her eyes went wide, and she blinked in shock. Then, she nodded.

I didn’t need to be told twice. Everything I had felt for Leah Holloway and tried to suppress spilled forth as I kicked the door shut and scooped her into my arms like a bride.

“Oh my god. I meant the food. I’m starving. Please don’t drop me,” she squealed as she protectively circled her belly with her arms. She cradled our baby while I cradled her.

“The food can be reheated. I want to eat you,” I said as I strode into her bedroom and gently laid her out on the mattress.

“Logan!” Leah shrieked. But it wasn’t in fear or trepidation. It was that bubbly laugh I hadn’t heard since the night both of our lives changed. Except this time, we were both stone-cold sober.

The knee-length dress she was in was made of stretchy material that clung to every winding curve and valley of her body. It was a deep blue that made me think of the vastest oceans. Uncharted. Uncontainable. Unfathomable. Riveting and untamed.

“Let me make you feel good,” I whispered against her lips as I stretched out above her.

Leah nodded, her breath catching in her throat as she said, “Yes.”

I wedged pillows behind her back and shoulders to keep her supported before running my hands up and down her thighs, going higher and higher beneath her dress with each pass.

“I have a confession,” I said as I yanked her underwear down in one swift motion.

Leah’s hands tangled in the sheets as I parted her legs. “What’s that?” she said between ragged breaths.

“Do you remember that night? You recorded a voice note consenting to having sex?”

Leah nodded.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket. “It never stopped recording.” I slid one hand between her thighs and dragged my fingers through her drenched sex. “That night—you and me—I’ve listened to us making love every night since that one. A hundred and fifty times, honeybee. That’s how many times I’ve listened to the sound of you coming on my cock. That’s how many times I’ve heard you call what we did a fantasy.”

I slid two fingers into her tight pussy and stroked. Leah tipped her head back and cried out in desperate ecstasy.

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