The following week passed in a blur. The sex was off the charts from slow, to fast, to oral, to everything in between.

Olivia finally wore the chaps Logan had brushed off for her. She even learned how to canter on Chicken or lope as Logan called it, explaining the differences between Western and English riding. Every morning before breakfast, they cleaned the stalls and in the afternoons they sparred. She was actually the happiest she’d ever been in her adult life.

Jason and Logan were working the cattle in the yard, giving inoculations. Sylvia stood beside Olivia at the fence with her booted foot on the lowest rung. The woman was pretty in a wholesome sort of way—early thirties and wore her light brown hair to her shoulders. “So where was it you and Logan met?”

Olivia’s cheeks burned. There was so much she couldn’t divulge. “The USS Washington rescued me in the Mediterranean after the private yacht I was a passenger on capsized.”

“Private yacht in the Mediterranean? My, that sounds romantic.”

Good Lord, it had been hell. Olivia just shrugged and changed the subject. “So, how did you meet Jason?”

“Nothing as exciting as a life and death rescue. We dated in high school and got back together at our five-year reunion after we’d both finished college.”

“Sounds like a fairy tale to me.”

“I’m getting hungry, Wife,” Jason called from the midst of the mob of dusty cattle. “Mind starting up Logan’s barbeque?”

“On it,” Sylvia replied, tugging Olivia’s wrist. “Come on. I’ve made potato salad and blackberry pie.”

Olivia followed her back toward the house. “Sounds delicious. But I should have made something, too.”

“Nah. Logan told me you’re not fond of cooking.”

“Oh? What else has Logan told you?”

Sylvia gave her a wink. “He didn’t need to say he’s head over heels in love with you. I can tell that just by looking at his face.”

Butterflies fluttered in Olivia’s stomach—for the gazillionth time. “You think?”

“Uh huh, honey. That man’s got it bad.”

Olivia laughed. She had it bad, too. And better? She had a boyfriend who loved her and could handle her quirks. He even understood her line of work. And since they both worked for ICE, there didn’t need to be any secrets between them.

Sylvia proved to be a pro at the barbeque. Olivia set the table and pulled the bottles of beer out of the cooler. By the time the men returned dusty, tired, and grinning from ear to ear, the feast was spread out on the picnic table in the backyard with the mountain view.

Logan sat across from her and took a long pull on his beer followed by a satisfied sigh. “That’s good.”

“Mighty good,” said Jason.

Olivia smiled. There she sat with a mob of Yanks in the middle of Montana, and she couldn’t be happier. She watched Sylvia tear into her barbeque ribs with her fingers even though they were slathered with sauce.

In Rome, do as the Romans do.

Olivia followed suit and a burst of flavor melted in her mouth. “Mm, this is to die for.”

“Have you had ribs before?” asked Logan.

“Nothing like these.” Olivia ripped off another bite with her teeth.

“Sylvia makes the best sauce,” said Jason. “It’s magical.”

Olivia licked her fingers. “Sure is.”

The meal continued with laughter and Jason proved to be quite the spinner of yarns. Olivia took it all in, watching Logan as the sun set. He was happy listening to his friend while he watched Olivia, their gazes connected by an invisible current, silently telling each other what they were planning upstairs later when again they’d be alone.

***

After Jason and Sylvia headed for home, Olivia volunteered to clean up while Logan went for a shower. Lord knew he needed one. Drenching cattle was hard work, made him work up a sweat, and he loved it.

Olivia hadn’t batted an eyelash when he and Jason came to the table with their jeans caked with dirt and dust. Maybe she wasn’t as citified as she thought. In fact, by the way she wore his flannel shirts and kicked around in cowboy boots, looking happier than he’d ever seen her, he was convinced he’d already turned her into a country girl.

Imagine that. He’d finally found a stunning and difficult blonde whom he could love and who loved him back.

When he turned off the water, Olivia walked into the bathroom and held up a towel. “Ready to go another round?”

He let her dry him off. “On the bed or in the ring?”

She waggled her eyebrows, wrapping the towel around his body and hugging him. “I think you’ve spent enough time in the corral today.”

“I like the sound of that.” Dipping his chin, he kissed her and his heart raced just like it had the first time their lips had met.

She backed him out of the bathroom and toward the bed while her fingers sank into his butt. “Do you think you can handle me tonight?”

“I can handle you any night, anytime, anywhere.”

“Now that’s what I like to hear, cowboy.” She tackled him to the mattress and tore away his towel. They made love like it was the first time and after their bout of mind-blowing sex, Olivia lay in his arms, combing her fingers through his chest hairs. “You know we’re going to have to go back to work.”

Logan sighed. “In two weeks and one day.”

“Got it figured out have you?”

“Yep. Are you looking forward to it?”

“Not since my epiphany, but I’ll be ready. Something will go down and we’ll be racing into battle.”

He chuckled. “I like my time off, but I’m always ready to take on the next mission as well.”

“Mm hmm.”

His phone rang and Logan snatched it from the bedside table, looking at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil, it’s Garth.”

Olivia rose on an elbow and inclined her ear toward the speaker.

Logan clicked the green phone icon. “Hello?”

“Hey, Rodgers. Believe it or not, al-Umari has resurfaced.”

“That’s not like him,” whispered Olivia.

“Really? Where is he now?”

“Intel says he’s enroute to Saint Petersburg to make an arms deal with the Russians. You ready for another mission?”

Logan glanced to Olivia who gave him a sober nod. “Ready for action, sir.”

“Good, I’ll send a plane to your airfield. Be there at 0700. We’ll brief you once you get to ICE.”