Page 23 of Stitch & Steel
Logan had only been in the cabin one full night, and already the air felt too thick. Too charged. Like the whole place had inhaled him and wasn’t sure what to do now that he wasn’t leaving.
Gran was delighted. She’d called him “mountain-hardened and honey-muscled,” then asked if he needed more eggs. I nearly choked on my coffee.
Now, I stood at the stove in yesterday’s flannel, barefoot, with Logan pacing in the hallway like he owned the place.
I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t... complicated.
Because on one hand, I still didn’t know him. Not really. A fishing trip and some porch banter didn’t exactly make us soulmates.
But on the other hand?
He’d shown up. With a duffel bag and a machete and this unspoken vow that no one—no one—was going to touch us while he was around.
The protectiveness should’ve scared me. It didn’t.
It turned me on in ways I really didn’t want to admit.
Especially when he walked into the kitchen like he hadn’t just moved into my whole damn life.
“Toast’s a little dark,” he said, eyeing the tray.
“Thanks, Gordon Ramsay.”
He smirked, took a piece anyway, and leaned against the counter. Shirtless. Of course. Toned chest, tattoos, damp hair from a shower that left the whole house smelling like cedar and sin.
“Want me to make you something?” I asked, fidgeting with the dishtowel.
“You don’t have to wait on me.”
“I’m not. I’m distracting myself from the fact that you’re here. Half-naked. Eating my bad toast.”
His smirk deepened. “I can put on a shirt.”
“Would it help?”
“Nope.”
I groaned and turned away, but Gran shuffled in right on cue, setting her grocery list on the table.
“Don’t let her fool you,” she said. “She used to draw little hearts on her notebooks for boys with sideburns.”
“Gran!” I snapped.
Logan grinned. “That so?”
I turned my back and focused on the eggs.
“You okay with this?” I asked Gran softly. “Him staying?”
She gave a half shrug, half smile. “If the club’s worried enough to send him, then something’s wrong. I’d rather be annoyed by too much testosterone than dead because we weren’t careful.”
That sobered me real fast.
And like she read my mind, Logan cleared his throat. “You should know. They found a body.”
I froze. “Where?”
“Just off the interstate, near the rest stop. Male, mid-thirties, shot execution-style. No ID.”
