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His forehead drops to mine. “You know what this means right?” his voice is a low growl that sounds more animal than man.
That I love you.
That I want to spend my life with you.
That your mine and I’m yours.
“Of course,” I choke out. “That I’m hoping your bed’s more comfortable than the guest bed.”
Logan somehow slaps my ass without dropping me. I squeal, a huge smile on my face. My cheeks are going to fall off at this point.
“Say it” he grunts, his feet powering through the room. He charges toward what I can only assume is the en suite, but he’s yet to turn on the lights, and my eyes are too busy staring into his to care.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I joke, though my voice comes out a breathless pant. “Why don’t you say it first.”
“Don’t fuck with me, Shiloh,” he growls as he comes to a stop. He releases my legs, letting me slide down his body as I stand. Our bodies are flush, our faces only inches apart. “Does this mean what I think it does?”
Be brave, Shiloh. What’s the worst that could happen?
Insecurities careen into me so hard and fast that I’m surprised when I find I’m still standing. My eyes burn, and this time I don’t keep the emotion in. I don’t hide from him like I have in the past. I don’t diminish my emotions for someone else’s comfort. I don’t pretend I’m fine so as not to be a burden.
Logan sighs as his thumbs brush my tears away. “Fine,” he grunts. “I’ll go first.”
A giggle bursts from my mouth. Of course, even now, he has to be a grumpy prick. His lip tips up at the corner. I can just barely make out the movement beneath his beard. His almost-smile drops. His face takes on a serious look that I’ve only ever seen when he’s mad. His heartbeat pounds against his chest so hard I can feel it beneath mine.
“I called you my wife.” My smile drops as the world freezes around us. “I don’t care if it’s too fast. I don’t care if we barely know each other. I don’t give a fuck about any of it. I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it ‘til it sinks in.You. Are. Mine.”
“Logan,” I murmur, shaking my head. With narrowed eyes, he glares down at me, his expression unreadable.
What am I doing? Why am I resisting this? He’s perfect.
Unable to meet his stare, I look down, my eyes raking over my body. “You don’t know me. I might not be able to get pregnant. What Cole said was—”
“It was bullshit,” he barks, taking a step back. I’m not sure if he’s looking at me or if he’s angry. I don’t want to find out, either. “It was bullshit. Fuck him. What he said wasn’t true, and you know it.”
“You don’t know me, Lo—” I start, but again, he interrupts me. This time, his fingers grip my chin in a move I’m coming to enjoy far too much.
“I do. I know you,” he insists, tightening his hold when I look away. “You love cherry ice cream and hate seafood. You’re allergic to peaches. You have a 200-pound dog named Porkchop that you love like a real kid, even though the fucker sheds and drools on everything. Your favorite movie isYoung Frankenstein,which I find weird as hell, but whatever. You want babies. Lots and lots of babies.I know you.”
“Those are just facts I told you about myself. That doesn’t mean you know me,” I protest, shaking my head the best I can, which is hardly at all.
Logan nods, surprising me. “You’re right.” His agreeing with me so easily should make me feel better, knowing I’m right, but it doesn’t. He’s silent for so long that I worry he’s rethinking everything he’s just said.
Logan turns, pivoting our bodies. He walks me backward until my ass hits the vanity. He lifts me up and drops me on the counter. I fight a cringe, feeling the dampness from our roadside activities clinging to my panties. He plants his hands on my thighs and squeezes.
“You color-code your pens, but not in a way that makes sense.” My brows furrow, and my mouth opens to explain. He shakes his head once, silencing me. “Yellow, blue, orange, purple, pink, red, green, black, silver. It took me a while to figure it out, but then you told me your favorite holidays.” I gasp. Does he really pay that close of attention to me? “Easter, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, Christmas, and New Year’s.”
His hands flex as I remain silent, not knowing what to say. I feel more seen than I ever have before and slightly embarrassed that he noticed my odd behavior.
“It’s weird and quirky, but it’s you,” he says quietly. “And I find it completely adorable.”
“I like the things I look at to feel festive,” I whisper, my shoulders shrugging so hard, I smack my ears. Sue me. I like the holidays and colorful shit. I was a kindergarten teacher for years. It comes with the territory.
Logan nods. “I know. I also know that you like your coffee with two and quarter packets of raw sugar, a three-quarter packet of Splenda, and two teaspoons of almond milk. You love to wear dresses, even when it’s freezing, but you don’t like ones with patterns. You love to watch the sunset and hate waking up early. You don’t smile until at least 10:30 in the morning when you’ve had a whole pot of coffee.”
I smile at that. His hands glide up my body, eliciting a trail of shivers in their wake before landing on my neck. He tilts my head back, the warmth from his palms burning through my skin.
“I know a lot of things about you, Babydoll, but I want to knoweverything.I can’t do that if you don’t give me a shot.”
