“Arnie, down!” Sky called, scrambling off the table and fighting to straighten her clothes, all at once.

“Vivienne, what the fuck?” Logan cursed.

Vivienne. Logan’s ex-wife. She should have guessed. There was no one in town who dressed from head to toe in high-end brands or, while expecting to be mauled by a rabid animal, could pull off that sophisticated look.

The second Sky stood up, her ripped underwear plopped to the floor, pooling around her left foot. Perfect way to meet the ex. As if the situation weren’t humiliating enough.

“What are you doing here?” Logan demanded. “And who the fuck let you in?”

“I still have the keys,” she replied haughtily. “As for what I’m doing here, apparently it’s watching you fool around with another woman. The least you can do is introduce us.”

“Vivienne, this is Sky.”

Vivienne scrunched her nose and began fanning herself. “What’s that horrible smell?”

“Arnie the hellhound,” Logan said, not even flinching. “Sensitive stomach.”

Sky was going to apologize for her dog and call him away, but the utter disgust in Vivienne’s face rubbed her the wrong way. Screw apologizing.

Logan turned to her. “Sky, this is Vivienne, my ex.”

Vivienne smiled a very sweet, very fake smile and glanced at the undies dangling around Sky’s ankle. “Technically, I am still your wife.”

Oh hell. Wife? As in still married? Sky’s face went up in flames. Or so it felt to her. This, she hadn’t expected.

Logan crossed his arms, his expression stony. “Technically, this is my house and you are trespassing. What do you want?”

“If you would answer my emails, I wouldn’t have to come down to this hellhole and interrupt your… evening. We need to talk.”

Sky reached for her coat. Arnie by her side, she announced, “I’ll give you your privacy.” She had no clue where she was going, but she wasn’t staying. She’d walk over to Shayna’s and beg for a ride, if need be.

As discreetly as she could, she shook her leg, trying to get the offensive underwear off her ankle. No luck. It was caught on the clasp of the stiletto strap. Fine, she’d leave it there. No way was she bending down to pull it off in front of everyone.

Before she could take one step, Logan grabbed her by the hand and stopped her. “You are going nowhere. Vivienne is just leaving.”

Vivienne harrumphed, obviously not accustomed to being dismissed. “You need to confirm your attendance at the award gala.”

“Who told you about it?”

Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Please. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out? You have to go and work the crowd. Those are the movers and shakers, the ones with deep pockets. Money for environmental causes is in the big cities, not in rural Minnesota. I can make sure I have the evening free and come to help. It would be a great step toward getting your life back.”

“I don’t want my old life back. You know that.”

Maybe she did, but she seemed to be doing a great job of ignoring him. “You wouldn’t need to get your hands dirty anymore. With the recognition the award will bring, you can sell out for a hefty price, or run everything from a suitable office in downtown Seattle, as you should. Delegate the grunt work and deal with the suits. That world you understand perfectly. You know how to navigate it.”

“You know how to navigate it,” Logan interrupted. “I’m fine where I am now, thank you for the concern. I chose this life.”

“I didn’t!” Vivienne lost her composure for a second. Then she took a deep breath and smiled again. “Promise you’ll think about it. You can’t seriously be happy living like this. You don’t belong here.”

Sky felt damn uncomfortable standing there, witnessing the skirmish, but Logan’s hold on her hand was unbreakable.

“You came all the way to tell me I don’t belong? You wasted your time.”

“So it seems. The world is falling apart, Logan. Environmental causes are last on the list. You can do so much better than NoName, Minnesota. You’re not doing any favors to yourself or the environment by passing on such an opportunity.”

Then she gave Sky a once-over. “Almost, but not quite.”

“What?” Logan asked.

Sky got it. She didn’t pass inspection. It was as if, with some kind of laser vision, Vivienne had seen that Sky’s bra was a knockoff. The bitch.

Vivienne clicked her tongue. Shook her head. “When will you learn, Logan? You do have a type. You might hate it, or pretend you do, but that’s what gets your dick hard. She won’t stay either. The kind of woman you fancy won’t stay.” Then she turned to Sky. “Sky, right? Nice to meet you. My advice? Run. Fast and far away. Before your Prince Charming transforms into a shit recycler. Been there.”

“I don’t know,” Sky answered, withstanding Vivienne’s stare. “When I met Logan, I thought he cooked meth and farmed poppies. I’d say poo processing is a step up.”

Vivienne’s face indicated she was on the fence about that. “That dog needs a colon cleanse or a session with a holistic healer. Or he should be put down. I’d go with the last option; no one should live with that revolting smell.”

The bitch. She could criticize Sky all day long, but no one was allowed to say a disrespectful word about Arnie. No. Frigging. One. “Lady—”

“Go,” Logan grunted, holding Sky back. “And leave the keys on your way out.”

Pursing her lips, Vivienne placed the keys on the table and went out the door. Logan closed it behind her.

The mangled underwear around Sky’s ankle seamlessly glided down to her foot onto the floor. Right. Now. She kicked it aside.

“Sorry,” Logan said. “Where were we?”

Please. Like they could pick up where they had left off.

Logan took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “She killed the mood, didn’t she?”

That she had. Totally. “So that was Vivienne.”

“Yes. That was Vivienne. Let’s get out of here. I’m sure they can make our table ready a little early.”

Through the window, they saw the lights of a car driving away.

“I should have noticed her car when we pulled in,” he muttered. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

That might have been partly her fault. “Difficult to notice anything when you’re being jumped,” she said, contrite.

His expression softened. “I liked being jumped, Butterfly. Come on, let’s go.”

She faltered. “Oh, um… okay. Give me a second to get Arnie settled.” She poured some water in a bowl, petted Arnie on the head, and came back to Logan. Having a moment to freshen up would have been great, but Logan looked somber and she didn’t want to leave him alone with his thoughts.

That said, there was something they needed to talk about. “I thought Vivienne was your ex-wife. When you said she left, I assumed you were divorced.”

“We aren’t, not officially. I’ve sent her the papers, but she hasn’t signed them yet. I didn’t mean to mislead you. I’m totally over her.”

“Are you sure?” If there was a moment to come clean, it was now.

He nodded. “Absolutely. There’s nothing between her and me. I’m sorry about her barging in like that. She’s used to making all the decisions, so she’s having trouble adapting to the fact that she can’t manipulate me anymore.”

“Why hasn’t she signed the divorce papers? Does she have hopes of winning you back?”

Logan let out a dry laugh as he opened the front door and led her to the truck. “More like she’s hoping we’ll still be married when and if I hit pay dirt, so she can get more in a settlement. The chemical processes I’ve derived from the recycling work have huge potential. Licensing a patent can mean big bucks. The possible applications in agriculture and industry are many. That’s probably why she came today.”

“What’s the award gala she was talking about?”

“My initiative has made it to the top three candidates, and it’s in the running for the yearly award to the most innovative environmental project in the field of chemistry.”

“That’s great, Logan. Congratulations. Why haven’t you confirmed your attendance? You don’t want to go?”

He shrugged. “I’m not too keen on attending, but yeah, I’ll go. Have to. My project operates on grants and needs exposure. Now let’s forget about this and get some food. It looks like the weather will hold.”

Why the weather would matter, Sky didn’t know. “Where exactly are we going?” she asked as they drove into town.

Logan turned onto Main Street and shut off the engine. “The most selective restaurant in NoName.”

“How selective?”

“Extremely.”

“Why? Famous chef?” Somehow, she couldn’t picture a three-star Michelin chef lurking around NoName, Minnesota. Minneapolis? Maybe. Here? Nope.

He laughed. “No, not particularly. The Watering Hole is very selective because it’s the only restaurant in town. And there are only a handful of tables.”

The Watering Hole. That explained so much.

They walked into a small, very unassuming place. Like a tavern, but more homey, with wooden furniture and kitsch drapes that matched even kitschier tablecloths. A man by a counter waved at them and pointed to the only empty table. As they made their way to it, they were greeted by every patron. Well, Logan was greeted. She got questioning stares, mostly. Either they didn’t remember her, or they hadn’t expected to see her again.

“It’s run by Astrid and her husband,” Logan explained after they sat. “Astrid is Netta’s daughter.”

Oh boy. “Netta, as in Pam’s friend the extreme couponer, known for Dumpster diving in search of newspapers?”

Logan handed her the menu. “Uh-huh. Give me your cell.” She did, and he tapped on it and returned it to her. “You’re connected to their Wi-Fi. I asked for the password beforehand. Knew you’d want it.”

“Thanks.” She always posted where she was and what she was doing, but in this case—and given the decor—she might pass. “So, what’s good here?”

“Actually, everything.”

She glanced at the menu. Extreme couponing indeed. No restaurant she knew could stay in business with these low prices. “If it weren’t for the fact that this is the restaurant in town, I’d be offended you brought me to such a cheap place. Are you sure the only thing that Netta Dumpster dives for are newspapers?”

Logan peered at her dubiously over his menu. “You’re talking about a town where they preserve eggs for seven months. Do you really think there’s any food, edible or otherwise, in our Dumpsters?”

“Good point.”

“I’ve seen Netta pay no more than five bucks for two shopping carts full of food. I hear supermarkets all over the county hate and fear her in equal parts. Don’t ask me how she does it, but in her world, two plus two equals forty.”

No shit.

“I know you don’t eat carbs in the evening, but the ravioli here is fantastic,” Logan added.

“Ravioli it is.” Her threshold of what she would or wouldn’t do had changed since arriving in Minnesota. What were a few carbs compared with twenty-year-old cheese, or beer made from old bread?

Logan ordered, and in no time they had two steaming plates full of delicious-looking ravioli in front of them. And two mugs of smoky beer. So Adam supplied beer to the restaurant too.

She took a bite of the pasta and almost had a mouth orgasm. “Spectacular.”

“Told you.”

Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder, and rain started pouring down.

“Damn, I was hoping the weather would hold.” Logan grimaced.

Sky didn’t understand what that had to do with anything—until a drop fell on her face. And another and another. Hell, the ceiling was leaking.

“Okay, people, you know the drill,” the man behind the counter said, coming out with a bunch of… umbrellas? He handed them to the patrons, who, without blinking, opened them and continued with their evening, talking and eating while holding the umbrellas.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sky said, staring at the open umbrella Logan made ready for her.

“Nope. The dining room ceiling has more holes than Swiss cheese. That’s why they don’t serve anything that requires a knife, just in case you won’t have the use of both hands when eating.”

Now she understood the name of the restaurant. She looked around, astounded. “It’s raining inside. They don’t care.”

“Weather isn’t a critical factor in Minnesota. Snow, even when measured in feet, does not constitute an emergency, let alone rain. If we held out for good weather, we’d never do anything. Besides, it’s just a bunch of roof leaks. No big deal.”

No big deal? She knew many restaurants in New York that had been shut down for much less than that. Then again, as far as she could tell, half the food here could have been outsourced from Pam. Leaks would be the least of an inspector’s concerns.

Okay, fuck it. She was taking a picture and posting it. “Smile,” she said, lifting her phone and taking a selfie of them both. “There. Hashtag eating in the rain, hashtag best raviolis ever, hashtag to boldly go where no inspector has gone before.”

One minute after Sky posted that pic, her sister called. “Where the hell are you, and what are you doing eating pasta at night?” came from the other end of the line.

“Went back to prepper town for the weekend.”

Lola’s “are you out of your mind?” was so loud and clear, even Logan heard it, because he laughed.

Sky winked at him and answered, “There’s combat training and target practice I couldn’t pass up. I have to go now—can’t talk and eat and hold the umbrella all at once.”

The whole restaurant probably heard Lola yelling, “Who are you and what did you do to my sister?” before Sky had time to end the call.

“Love freaking her out,” she acknowledged. It was normally the other way around.

“I can tell, Butterfly. Did you ever explain to her about the evacuation drill, or did she end up thinking she’d dreamed the conversation?”

“She got everything mixed up. She called next day while I was driving to Paris. She said she had the vague recollection she was supposed to come bail me out for stealing cows.”

“Your sister drinks too much,” Logan muttered, shaking his head.

That too.

“Everything all right?” asked a woman in her thirties, wearing an apron.

“Astrid, this is Sky,” Logan introduced them. “Sky, Astrid is the chef.”

“Nice to meet you,” Sky said, not sure which hand to offer, seeing as both were busy. She nodded. “Delicious meal.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. You’re Patient Zero. I saw your tutorial. I heard you’d gone to Paris.”

Sky nodded again. “I came back for a short visit.”

“A pleasure to meet you.” Astrid added to Logan, “Don’t forget, bingo night this Sunday.”

“No worries. I’ll be there,” he said.

Bingo? Logan enjoyed playing bingo?

Sky gaped at him as Astrid walked away, and he chuckled. “The booster club is holding a bingo night to raise money to repair the school. I hope you like bingo, Butterfly.”

“I don’t know. I’ve never played,” she confessed. “I figured I’d learn when I retire and move to Florida.”

“You’re going to learn much sooner than that, believe me. Attendance is all but mandatory. The county doesn’t have the funds. NoName is a small town, few kids. The district is pushing to close our school. So we bingo.”

Ten-K runs. Mandatory bingo nights. NoName had interesting ways of raising money.

Although she couldn’t see any district administrator having the balls to come to tell this bunch their school was being closed.

In spite of the rain, the umbrella, and the mess, Sky had a great time. The food was fabulous and the company was even better. She’d really missed Logan. There was something in that gruff mountain man that called to her. She felt at ease around him. He let her be herself. She could flit around, as he put it, without him getting nervous or feeling threatened.

“We’ve got to get going. They’re closing soon,” Logan said once they finished dessert.

“What’s next on the agenda?”

“I was hoping to continue in a more private setting. I have a nice bottle of wine waiting at home.”

For the life of her, she couldn’t refrain from pouting. “Do we have to go back home?”

He looked uncertain. “You don’t want to spend time alone with me?”

“Of course I want to, but there’s no privacy at your place,” she said, touching his forearm. “We need to be ready for whatever evacuation or pandemic drill or crazy maneuver they have planned. I wish we could escape somewhere.”

“Maybe we can.”

“I’m not ending up in a bunker again, Alchemist,” she warned.

“We might not have to. I have an idea. Let’s go.”

* * *

“This place is beautiful,” Sky said, looking at the cozy two-story wooden cabin. After leaving the restaurant, they’d driven to his house. Asking her to wait in the truck, he’d gone in to fetch the dog and her bag and they’d hit the road again. Now they were somewhere up in the mountains, nothing but forest around.

“Alec’s,” Logan answered, grabbing her suitcase. “This is one of the rental cabins he manages.”

Okay, so that was why they’d made a stop at Alec and Megan’s on their way here.

“I see we’re back to relying on your sister to find a place to get laid.” She sighed, shaking her head. “This is embarrassing.”

Logan unlocked the front door. “Tell me about it.”

The cabin was cold, so Logan got the fire started. He brought out a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses, and sat on the fur rug.

She took off her coat, placed it on the rug, and sat on it, all ladylike. At his questioning stare, she shrugged. “No underwear. You ripped it back at your place. I didn’t have time to rummage in my suitcase for more.”

He closed his eyes as if he were in pain. “Are you telling me you were without underwear the whole time we were at the restaurant?”

She nodded.

“Thank fucking God you didn’t tell me. We would have ended up in the back of my truck. Heck, we might not have made it that far. The bathroom would have been it.”

She smiled at him serenely. “I would have been okay with that.”

“The roof leaks there too.”

“Sex in the rain. Frigging hot,” she murmured.

“What would you have done if I’d suggested a round at the bar on the mechanical bull?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” Smirking, she lifted her skirt.

“Bare,” he choked, almost dropping the bottle of wine.

“Bare. I thought I should blend with my environment.”

His bark was dry. “Then you should cover it with camo netting.”

“I mean blend with Americans. Mainstream Americans, obsessed with waxing, not off-the-grid survivalists obsessed with camo shit.”

Logan pinned her down with his stare, something akin to jealousy brewing there. “I’m not sure how I feel about you waxing your pussy to accommodate mainstream guys’ tastes.”

“Not other guys, silly,” she said, caressing his chest. “You. To accommodate you.”

“You were that sure I’d come for you, huh?”

Clever guy. Throwing her words back at her, after a fashion. “I was hoping,” she said softly. “Shayna dropped hints about how miserable and sulky you’d been. She offered to come pick me up for the makeup course.”

“You told her no?”

“Don’t you turn this on me. You… dismissed me.”

“Sorry. I was trying to make things easier, Butterfly.”

He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, coaxing her mouth open, and when she did, he kissed her. “How badly do you want the wine?” he whispered.

“Not as badly as I want you.”

“Thank fucking God.” He lifted her and headed upstairs.

“Where are we going? The fireplace is down here. Mega romantic.”

“The only place in this cabin with a locking door is the bedroom upstairs. Look behind us,” he said, tilting his head toward Arnie, who was following them.

“You’re friends now. He won’t bite you.”

“We will never be friends enough for me to fuck you with peeping Tom watching.”

He had a point. “Put me down.”

He frowned but obliged her. “Why?”

Arnie was stuck between the second and third steps. She ran downstairs and—rather precariously, considering she was high on Logan and carbs and Batmans—lifted Arnie in her arms. “We can’t leave him here. He won’t be able to climb by himself and he’ll cry all night. I can’t do that to him.”

The extra weight made her wobble, so she stopped to regain her balance. She figured she better lose the heels, so she leaned a little, trying to reach one stiletto strap.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she heard Logan mutter an instant before she was airborne and then in his arms, Arnie still in hers. “You’ll break your neck carrying him around. Now, tell me if there are any stumbling blocks, because I can’t see shit.”

She felt an overwhelming need to kiss him, but she was afraid if she obstructed the little visibility he had, they would all end up in a pile at the bottom of the stairs. She kissed the crook of his neck and whispered a thank-you she wasn’t sure he heard.

Once on the second floor, all three of them safely standing on their own feet and paws, Logan grabbed Sky and closed the door on Arnie. Then he jammed a chair under the doorknob. “If he manages to open this, we’re taking him to the circus,” he said.

“Deal,” she agreed.

Instead of jumping her, he took a step backward.

Standing there with her skirt bunched up and her lover retreating, she felt exposed. “Logan?”

“Just enjoying the view, Butterfly. Undress for me.”

“I wasn’t planning on that when I got dressed this morning. After you appeared, I thought I’d have time to primp before dinner.” Nice lingerie, sexy dress—those were in her suitcase. She was wearing rather plain clothes, her hair in a knot.

He gave her a once-over. “I dig the casual Dior vibe you got going on. Fucking hot.”

Under his appreciative stare, she unbuttoned her blouse and shimmied out of her skirt, feeling surprisingly self-conscious in her bra and thigh-high stockings.

Perceptive bastard that he was, he noticed. “What’s wrong, babe?”

“I don’t know. Feeling embarrassed, I guess.” This was not a wham-bam in a bunker, horniness driving them. “Maybe some music would make this striptease less awkward.”

He came closer. “Look at me. What do you see?”

The vein at his temple pulsed and his cock pressed against his fly. In spite of his relaxed stance, he was keeping himself on a short leash.

“You want me,” she said.

His eyes flashed. “Yes, I do. You don’t need music to hold my attention. You don’t need anything but that cheeky smile of yours.”

Emboldened, she unclasped her bra and let her hair down. Then she turned around and rolled the stockings slowly over her knees, relishing his growl as she bent.

Naked, she reached for him, loving that his muscles tensed under her touch. His hands fisted in impatience, and yet he allowed her to take her time undressing him and leading him to the bed.

Once there, though, he took over. “My turn.” He leaned over her and, holding her legs wide, nuzzled her open pussy, his light touches and hot breath making her jerk. She’d forgotten how sensitive her pussy was after waxing, how being bare heightened the caresses.

“Please,” she whispered, already growing wet.

“What?”

“I need more.”

He smiled and slid a finger along her slit, from her ass up to her swelling bud. “I know. You’ll get more. As much as you can stand.”

She wasn’t sure what did it. Maybe it was the intense way he looked at her while eating her out. Maybe it was the beard, or the humming against her clit, or the clever teeth/tongue combo he had going on, sucking and nipping every inch of her folds. Maybe it had to do with Logan pinning her down and not letting her have any control, rendering her unable to close her thighs or lift her butt to get more pressure. Whatever it was, it worked for her, because she came in his mouth twice.

“Gorgeous, baby. Now you’re ready to be fucked.”

He grabbed a condom and rolled it on. Kneeling on the bed, he lifted her legs up and wide.

Her pussy was still quivering from the second orgasm when the tip of his cock nudged at her entrance. She felt him tensing as he slid in a bit, stretching her.

“Fuck, Butterfly. You feel amazing,” he said, gritting his teeth. His face was harsh, his jaw locked, the muscles at either side of his neck bulging. He pushed in to the hilt, filling her, and then slowly slid out until only the crown of his erection was inside her. Then back in. “I love how your pussy wraps tight around my cock. How it takes every inch of me.”

She gazed at where they were joined as his engorged hard-on, shiny from her juices, pulled out again.

Suddenly, he thrust in, balls-deep, ripping a whimper out of her. Without letting her get used to his invasion, he set a deep and hard rhythm. He fucked her with methodical strokes, grinding at her with every plunge, dragging the tip of his cock over her G-spot and brushing that glowing place deep inside her. As his rhythm intensified, so did her desperation.

“Logan,” she moaned, clutching his forearms, so ready to come again she was shaking.

“I got you, babe.” He grabbed her by her waist and lifted her onto his lap, impaling her and giving her clit all the friction it needed. She sank her nails into his shoulders, a sob escaping her.

“Come,” he ordered, his cock so deep inside her, she felt it throbbing against her womb. “Give it to me.”

She could do nothing but obey. Locked in a strong contraction, she climaxed, the jolt of energy scorching every single one of her synapses.

She wasn’t sure how much time elapsed before she was able to form a coherent thought, much less words. “I came,” she whispered into his shoulder, her body still trembling. Her pussy too. “Again.”

“I noticed. It was my cock you were gripping like a vise.”

“I… I think I bit you. And scratched you,” she said, looking up and relaxing her hold on him. “Sorry.” When he’d lifted her, gravity had worked in his favor. That and his hard chest rasping against her nipples had made her lose it.

“No need to apologize, Butterfly. So fucking sexy. You almost dragged me with you.”

“You didn’t…” She squeezed her inner muscles and tried to move. “You better come now.”

He stilled her. “Rules of the house: I don’t come alone.”

“I won’t be able to orgasm again.” No way. No how.

“Bet you will. Lean back a bit,” he said as he held her lower body in place, her pussy full to bursting. “You see these sweet nipples? They haven’t gotten much attention yet. What do you think is going to happen once I start sucking on them?”

He proceeded to demonstrate. With every one of his ministrations, her nipples became redder and achier, until she couldn’t stand it. She grabbed him by his hair, yanking at it and bringing him up for a kiss.

“I see you’re not so dead anymore,” he whispered with a roguish smile while he palmed her ass and helped her ride his cock. Then he pressed a finger against her rosette.

Sky froze. “Logan. I’m not comfortable—”

“I won’t go too far in. Just a couple of inches.”

He paused, never breaking eye contact, and when she nodded, he breached the entrance with the tip of his finger.

Her whole body tensed, her pussy and ass contracting at the same time. “Oh God.”

“There are a bunch of nerve endings here,” he said, massaging in tight circles, burrowing deeper little by little, opening her snug channel.

She felt him everywhere: in her ass, in her pussy. His mouth was against hers, his chest abrading her sensitive nipples with every ragged breath she took.

“If you want me to stop, I will,” he offered, his voice rough as he rocked in and out of her. “But give me a minute. Just one. You like this; your pussy is sucking at my cock and your ass at my finger.”

Damn him, he was right. In a minute she was urging him to fuck her harder.

In two they were both coming.

* * *

After regaining his bearings, Logan realized he was sprawled on top of her, crushing her, probably. Summoning the last of his strength, he ordered his muscles to lock and rolled them over.

“Jesus Christ, you are good,” he whispered against her hair. Fucking her got better and better.

He felt her smile on his chest. She lifted her head, looked at him, and his heart stopped. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips puffy from his kisses. She was so damn beautiful, naked in his arms, her pussy still gently contracting around him.

“You haven’t lost your touch either, Alchemist. Pity we can’t screw each other’s brains out on a regular basis.”

“Who said we can’t?” he found himself asking, almost belligerently.

His intensity seemed to catch her off guard, because her smile faltered. She stared at him for a long second. “That would require physical proximity. Regular visits.”

“I’ll pick you up on Fridays and drive you back on Sunday evenings. Regular enough?”

Her expression turned cheeky. “What if I get… antsy in the middle of the week? You know I love everything to do with my cell, but I’m not too fond of phone sex.”

Neither was he. “I’ll come to you whenever you want.”

“You’ll get your ass to Paris every Friday and on the odd days if I ask you to? Really?”

He slid out of her, regretting right away the loss of her tight grip on his cock, and disposed of the condom. “I don’t know why you seem so surprised. I used to live in Seattle.”

She propped her head on her elbow and studied him, curiosity in her gaze. “If you don’t mind me asking, what happened between you and Vivienne?”

He took a deep breath and lay on his back, looking up to the ceiling. “She loved our life and me when I worked for the pharmaceutical industry. She was the one who steered me in that direction, convincing me of all the good I could do. How the big, influential decisions are made at higher levels. It was bullshit. I believe meaningful change comes from collective small gestures at an individual level. When the big corporations can’t fight the wave, or they see fighting as a lost cause, then they join it—not before. Money is the only language they understand. When I quit to try to do something meaningful with my life and she couldn’t convince me otherwise, she left me. You know the part about for better and for worse? She was in it for the better only. My sister warned me Vivienne had her own agenda and was using me to forward it, but I didn’t listen. I actually severed all contact with Megan because of it. What a moron, huh? Couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

“Vivienne is pretty and skilled,” she said, caressing his chest, her tone matter-of-fact. “So you got blinded and fell right into her vagenda. Nothing to be ashamed of. It happens to the best of us.”

He glanced at her. “Va-what?”

“Vagina plus agenda. Vagenda.” As if that were self-explanatory.

Logan laughed. “What’s with you and vagina words? But yes, I got vaginalized.”

“You mean vagendalized.”

“Whatever. Pussy whipped. I loved her and wanted her to be happy, so I did what she wanted. The second I didn’t, she dumped me. Her self-esteem couldn’t take being with a diaper recycler. It was too big a hit to her status.”

She scowled. “I bet. She was ready to put Arnie to sleep because he had an upset stomach. And, speak of the devil,” she added, pointing at the barricaded door, “can we let him in? He always sleeps on my feet. He’s crying.”

Also scratching, by the sounds of it. “We might as well. Alec will kick our asses if Cerberus destroys the wood.”

He moved the chair out of the way and opened the door. Arnie gave him the evil eye and ran toward Sky. “If he starts gassing us, he’s out.”

She patted Arnie’s head as the dog made himself comfortable on her feet. “He won’t. You’re okay now, aren’t you, sweetie? No more bacon-flavored chips for you.”

Cerberus let out a whimper, looking so pathetic that even Logan felt sorry for him. “You do know he’s playing you, don’t you?” he asked, getting into bed.

“Poor guy,” she said. “He’s very delicate.”

“Sure. You just have to glance at him to realize how delicate he is.”

“Don’t you listen to him,” Sky said, leaning down to kiss her dog, who decided licking her face was the best response.

She swatted him, turning away and laughing. “Arnie, stop.” The more she laughed and squirmed, the more Arnie tried to lick her.

“You are not kissing me now,” Logan warned as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.

She rolled her eyes and headed for the bathroom, that damn dog following her. “You men are so fastidious.” She walked back to bed, her face freshly washed. “Happy now? I still won’t kiss you, though. For being an asshole.”

He chuckled. So cheeky. He spooned her, Cerberus curling at their feet. “I would have let you kiss me, dog slobber included,” he whispered in her ear.

She stroked his forearm. “I know.”

“Sky?” he asked after a short pause.

“Hmm?”

“I meant what I said earlier. Vivienne and I are through. I don’t want you having any doubts about it. I may not be divorced yet, but my marriage is over.”

She covered his hand with hers and squeezed. “Good to know.”

Soon he felt her chest softly raising and falling. He brushed a strand of fiery red hair from her face. She’d gone out like a light.

Vivienne might have been right: he did have a type, in the physical sense, that is, because his ex would have died before letting a dog kiss her.

Dealing with Vivienne always left him in a foul mood. Sky had managed to distract him, but now he was alone with his thoughts. Too pumped up to sleep.

He decided to go down to the kitchen and grab something to drink. He’d left his computer at home, so getting any work done was out of the question. That was all right. The award ceremony was over a month away—plenty of time for him to confirm his attendance and organize everything.

As he reached the first floor, he realized someone was following him. Cerberus.

“Wrong move, buddy. She isn’t around to carry you upstairs. Stay.”

Spoiled brat that the dog was, he trotted right down.

“Suit yourself, but I warn you, there’s no one to wrap around your little claw here.”

Logan opened the fridge and took a beer. He sat on the couch in the dark, drinking, his mind in turmoil. Cerberus stretched out on the rug in front of him.

Logan rested his head on the back of the sofa. Much as it bugged him, Vivienne was right about another thing: he would do no favors to himself or the environment if he passed on the award opportunity. Recognition at that level could make or break his future. Too bad the thought of going to New York to deal with all that gave him dry heaves.

Finishing his beer in a chug, he glanced down at Arnie and found the dog staring at him. “What’s keeping you awake?”

Arnie chuffed, his muzzle on his paw.

“Yeah, me too.” Logan sighed. Man, he was talking to a dog. Time to go back to bed.

He was on the second floor when Arnie whimpered.

“Sorry, buddy. You made it downstairs on your own. You’ll have to make it up on your own too.”

The beast looked at him and whimpered again, laying back what was left of his mangled ears.

“Forget it. Not going to work.” Logan walked toward the bedroom door, doing his damnedest to ignore the manipulative canine whose yelps were getting more pitiful by the second.

Then he stopped and flung his head forward, breathing slowly out. He turned around. For fuck’s sake.

He climbed down and lifted the dog in his arms. “Not a word to her about this,” he grunted.