Page 80 of Celebrity Dirt

The sand squishes between my toes as I run across the beach, my hand trying to block the sun in search of Logan. I see the boat in the distance and keep going, even though my calves are on fire and the sun is blazing down. I may drop dead before I make it to the shore.

“Logan!” I call for him, waving my hand. “Logan! It came!”

He sees me and shakes his head, jumping off the boat and running toward me like a god with nothing on but his swim trunks. “Jesus, Addy, what the fuck are you doing! It’s hotter than fuck out here.”

“I know—but I wanted to show you—it came.” I’m dying to catch my breath.

“Dammit,” he growls, then twists around to yell toward the boat. “Will, grab me a water. Hurry!” He turns back to me. “You should have waited for me to get home.”

“I know, but I wanted to open it. With you.” He cups my cheek and wipes away a drop of sweat rolling down the side of my temple. “It’s heavier than I expected,” I say.

“Well, as usual, you had a lot to say.”

I smack his chest. “Shut it. God, I’m nervous.”

“Want me to open it—?”

“No way!” I almost bite his head off. Oops. I’ve been doing that a lot lately. “Sorry. I just want to do it.” I take a deep breath and pull at the parcel tab. The package opens, and the book slides into my hands. One year in the making, and it’s finally here. I gave up my life as a journalist. It was a hard pill to swallow because it had always been my passion. But Logan showed me that my talents were endless, and I didn’t have to give up anything I loved—I just had to switch gears and tell my stories another way. So, I took his advice. I wrote a memoir.

“Wow.” It’s all I can say.

“Proud of you, baby.”

“Thanks. I mean, I just can’t believe I actually did it.”

Logan leans in and places a kiss on my lips. “You okay?”

This book, the single copy in my hands, is all it will ever be. “Yeah. I know what happens if I publish it. Kinda blows our whole incognito life.”

Logan laughs and tucks me into his chest. “You wrote an amazing book. And maybe one day, people will read it and know how crazy and badass Atticus Finch is, and how she risked her life to save the world.”

I rest my head against his chest. “Yeah. Maybe after I’m old and long gone, we can have our son or daughter publish it. Donate it to a library or school for research.”

He bends down and presses a kiss to the top of my nose. “You’re going to live forever, but yes, one day. Now, let’s get you out of the heat. If you weren’t nine months pregnant, I’d take you back to the house and spank the shit out of you for being so careless.”

I allow him to walk me back. I’d argue he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, but the last of my spunk fizzles out and he scoops me in his arms and carries me the remainder of the way. “Spankings won’t hurt the baby, you know.”

His chest rumbles. This is the third time this week I’ve tried to coerce him into some sexy time. But he’s too afraid, no matter what the doctor says, of hurting the baby or me.

“Nice try. The only thing you’re getting is a cool bath and a foot massage.”

I grumble and moan at the same time. A foot massage sounds glorious, but so would a naughty spanking that leads to hot sex. “You know what else can use a massage?”

“Addy,” he warns.

“Fine. I don’t want to do the nasty anyway. I’ll just sit around, as fat as a house, until this baby pops out. Then I guess we’ll just go home, and who knows.” Here come the out-of-control hormones.

Logan opens the door, walks us in, and gently sets me down on the lounge chair. He kneels in front of me while I cross my arms over my chest, but since there’s no room because I’m a balloon, I toss them back down. “Addy, do you want to go home?”

I want what he wants. I want us to be forever. If he wants to go home, I’ll follow, but…

“Addy, answer me.” His voice is soft but demanding.

“No. I want to stay here and be us. Continue to live this perfect life we’ve created. I know you want to go home, so I will—”

His finger presses against my lips. “Stop. I need you to stop. I know I reacted to the news last night wrong. I should have stayed and talked it out with you. That was wrong of me. But…I don’t want to go home. I want this too. Us, our baby. I got upset because I was worried you wanted to go home.”

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