Page 49 of Stitch & Steel
His arms flexed, hauling me into him like he could physically fight the fear away. “Damn right it’s the start,” he growled. “You’re it for me, Bella Grace. I’ll ride through hellfire before I don’t come back to you.”
I buried my face in his shoulder, my fingers clutching the leather over his spine. He smelled like pine, smoke, and temptation—and I didn’t want to let go.
But Logan had a way of turning even the most serious moments into scorched-earth declarations.
Without warning, he gripped my thighs, lifted me off the porch, and I instinctively wrapped my legs around him. My back hit the cabin wall and suddenly I was pinned—flushed, breathless, aching.
“You in those gym shorts is straight-up cruel,” he murmured, grinding his hard length against the heat between my legs. “Makes me wanna mark you before I ride out.”
I whimpered, clutching his neck. “Logan…”
“Don’t tell me you took a morning after pill, baby,” he said, low and rough. “’Cause I wouldn’t give a damn if last time made more than just memories.”
His words punched breath from my lungs.
“You want that?” I whispered. “Really?”
“I want whatever keeps you tied to me.” He kissed the edge of my mouth, then deeper, fiercer, like we were making vows with our lips. “I want more of you. All of you. Always.”
Tears stung behind my lids—but they didn’t fall. I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat.
“I’ll trust in fate,” I said. “The way I trust you.”
He smiled against my mouth. “That’s my girl.”
And then he kissed me like I was his religion.
We barely heard the door creak open behind us.
“Oh heavens,” Gran said, fanning herself with a folded newspaper. “That’s one way to say goodbye.”
I laughed through a tearful gasp as Logan set me down gently, brushing one last kiss over my temple. “I’ll check in tonight,” he said. “Every night. Don’t open that door for anyone but our guys. And don’t worry—Bear’s crew is tight.”
I nodded.
Scout whined as Logan walked to his bike, as if he knew what goodbye sounded like.
He threw one last look over his shoulder—eyes locked on mine—before the engine roared to life. A promise on two wheels.
I stood with Gran and Scout on the porch, arms wrapped around myself, watching his taillights disappear down the mountain road… only this time, hired security replaced the familiar faces in the tree line.
And I hoped fate was still listening.
Sixteen
LOGAN
Three daysin the desert and my blood was half dust and gas fumes.
The mission was pure hell—just like we expected.
Gunfire. Smoke. Clubs and cartel foot soldiers running dirty payloads through the border scrub. Biker crews with no code, just blood money in their pockets and bodies on their conscience. We’d intercepted a drop gone sideways, and now we were the only ones left to mop up the mess before it spilled over state lines.
Every turn brought a fresh knife to the ribs.
“Left flank!” Bear shouted, ducking as a bullet tore past.
I hit the dirt behind an overturned truck, reloaded fast, and fired three shots toward the shadows. The bastard dropped, dust puffing around him like a warning from God.
