Page 32 of The All-Inclusive

“Marshmallows.” What an odd thing to include.

I’m thinking of Sara now, wondering if she’d like these little colorful confections. I pick one from the bowl and pop it in my mouth, feeling it soften on my tongue.

“Good, huh?”

I don’t like admitting Jarhead is right about anything. “Not bad.”

“So,” Logan says, striding over to a little round table by the window. “Just wanted to chat with you real quick.”

“All right.” I want to be pissed, but the guy brought me breakfast.

Grinning, he flops his big frame into one of the chairs. His long, muscled legs sprawl out in front of him, one of them marked with a thick, jagged scar.

When he catches me staring, he nods. “Got it in the line of duty. Raiding a warship in the Gulf of Aden.”

“Shitty place to be.” I’ve been there myself, and it’s a cesspool of pirates and gun runners. “Thanks for the food.”

“No prob.” He watches me walk to the table and join him.

I set down the tray and dig into the bacon first. “If you camehere to kick my ass for making Sara cry, I’ll save you the trouble. I kicked my own ass all night.” I bite into the bacon, which is crispy and salty and fucking delicious. “Also, I doubt you could kick my ass.”

Jarhead scoffs and watches me eat. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

“Yep.”

He’s silent a while, watching me mow through the bacon. I start in on the eggs next, grateful for Jarhead’s room service delivery. “Thanks for the food,” I mutter. “And for giving me a chance to talk to her yesterday.”

“Did it give you some closure?”

I scowl at him over the rim of my orange juice. “Closure?”

“Or whatever the fuck you needed.”

I shake my head slowly, not wanting to get into it with this guy. “I spilled all my secrets to Sara and she ran away crying.”

One sandy brow quirks up. “Allyour secrets?”

A jolt of unease rattles through me. “What the fuck?”

He watches me with a knowing expression that makes me want to wipe that dumb, charming grin off his mouth. His eyes are a light, eerie hazel, and I don’t like the way he keeps staring. “Talked to a buddy of mine last night,” he says slowly. “A squad leader from my old platoon.”

“And?” I sound like a belligerent dick, but he’s provoking me on purpose with his jovial Boy Scout impression. “I know a few jarheads.”

“I know you do.” His eyes lock with mine and I shiver. “Does the name Scott Heath ring a bell?”

I’m out of my seat in an instant, ready to pummel his ass to a puddle. The dickhead just laughs and kicks at the leg of my chair. “Sit your ass back down. I’m not blackmailing you. Your secret’s safe with me. No one makes it as a consort this long if he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.”

“Jesus.” I do what he says, sick to my stomach and wonderingif I’m about to see that bacon again. “What is it you think you know?”

The guy quirks an eyebrow. “You want me to spell it out for you?”

I don’t. I’ve never uttered a word of what happened that day, and I’d rather Jarhead didn’t either.

With my stomach still lurching, I go back to shoveling eggs into my mouth. Maybe if I ignore him, he’ll go away.

Ignoring shit landed you here, you dumb fuck.

Logan just studies me with a smirk I can’t stand.

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