Logan woke early to a warm body pressed against him. He grinned as he looked over at Vivian tucked into his side, her back against the wall and the rest of her draped on him. Her silky hair flowed behind her on his pillow, the tresses across his arm. Her black lashes formed little half-moons on her cheeks and her mouth was slightly open, her soft breaths tickling his chest.

Carefully sliding his arm from under her, he chuckled, realizing zombie Viv would not move an inch. Padding to the bathroom, he quickly showered, working out the kinks from sleeping in the tiny bed, before moving into the kitchen, turning on the coffee pot. Sitting down at his laptop, he ate a bowl of cereal as he watched the comings and goings next door. It appeared the Zamans were having a busy morning.

Stretching, Vivian woke slowly, as she did every morning, disoriented as her eyes took in the room. Logan’s room! And he’s not here. Her eyes cast downward, the morning chill sweeping across her body. Mortified at her state of undress, she felt the heat of a blush traveling from her chest to her hairline as she stumbled out of his bed and staggered into her room across the hall. Pulling on a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt, she knew she had to face him sometime, although the thought of hiding in her room all day had merit.

Hearing her shuffling footsteps, he looked up as she rounded the corner, his initial grin at seeing her changing into a full-blown smile. He stood and poured her a cup of coffee, liberally adding cream and sugar. Pushing it toward her, he watched as she reached out blindly, circling her hands around the steaming mug.

“Good morning, babe,” he said through his smile.

As smooth as the creamy coffee, his words wrapped around her. Lifting her eyes over the rim as she sipped, her words of greeting stumbled in her throat as she stared at the masculine beauty in front of her, leaning his muscular forearms on the counter. T-shirt, tight across his chest. Finger combed hair, still wet from the shower. And the grey-green eyes that pierced her. A blush moved across her face as she swallowed the hot liquid awkwardly. “I…uh…I’m sorry about last night,” she mumbled.

His brows drew down sharply. “Sorry?”

Bobbing her chin in a jerk, she added, “Uh…about going to sleep. I should have gone back to my room. You could have woken me and…uh…you know…told me to leave.”

His face relaxed as he watched her stumble over her words. “Why would I want you to leave?”

Her breath left her lungs in a huff, irritated that he was going to drag this conversation out. “Look, I know what last night was. Uh…fun…right?”

“Yeah, it was fun,” he agreed. “Was that all it was to you, Viv?”

She opened her mouth but snapped it shut quickly, unsure what to say.

“You told me you weren’t a fling kind of girl. I already knew that. So, you think I’m the kind of man who would enter a fling with someone who wasn’t on board?”

Shaking her head slowly, she said, “No. I think you’re the best kind of man.” Shrugging slightly, unsure where the conversation was leading, she continued, “But, we had agreed to just work the job. No complications. And then, boom! We were kinda out of control. So, I figured…”

“Well, if you figured I was just into having a good time with the most available girl, you figured wrong.”

Setting her cup down onto the counter, she reached forward, placing her hands over his, wincing when he did not grasp hers in return. “I’m sorry, Logan. I seem to be making a mess of things.”

“Why don’t you tell me what’s really on your mind, instead of what you think you should say,” he ordered gently.

Clearing her throat, she nodded. “I…I loved last night. I wanted last night. Wanted you. But, when I woke this morning and you were gone, I realized I had fallen asleep in your tiny bed, probably making you uncomfortable. And, I guess I…no, I know...I was embarrassed. I slept like the dead and you probably didn’t sleep at all.” Snorting, she continued, “I’ve heard friends talk about the walk of shame when a guy kicked them out of bed. Or friends who complained about someone who wouldn’t leave when it was…uh…over.”

His shoulders relaxed and Logan turned his hands over, clasping hers, giving them a little squeeze. “That’s better. I’ve grown used to not having to guess what’s on your mind.”

She cocked her head to the side, unasked questions in her eyes.

“Yeah, we were stuck with a tiny ass bed, but I was not uncomfortable last night. I got up this morning so I could shower and make coffee, so zombie Viv would have the bathroom when she was ready and some caffeine in her.” As her mouth quirked, he continued, “I made it clear that I wanted us, but I guess what I fucked up on, was not making it clear what I wanted after the sex.”

He watched as she sucked in her lips, holding her breath. Leaning forward, he gave her hands a little pull, bringing her closer. “I wanted you. In my bed. In my arms. All night long.”

Her eyes widened as he neared, her lips now only a breath away from his.

“And I want that for as long as we both want it.” Closing the tiny distance, he latched onto her lips, suckling and tasting, swallowing her moans, his own rumbling from his chest. Pulling back reluctantly, he sighed, “I hate to stop, but—”

“You’ve got to show up for your job and I’ve got to start watching what our neighbors are doing.”

Nodding, he kissed her again, hard and fast, before rounding the corner. Vivian expected him to head out the door, but instead he stalked straight back to her, pulling her into his embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around her much slimmer body while hers rounded his waist. She rested her cheek against his heartbeat, closing her eyes as the steady beat sent its strength through her.

“I’m working on a small plane that came in today, but I’m only a phone call away. If you need me, give me a call.” When he felt her head nod against his chest, he added, “Viv, babe. Do not do anything on your own. I don’t care if they come knocking on the door, you stay inside. Got it?”

“Got it, boss man.”

* * *

Pulling her shower-wet hair up into a sloppy bun, she focused on the camera angle that gave her the best view of what was in the Zaman’s room used for their makeshift lab. Scribbling on the pad of paper by the laptop, she wrote down as many of the chemicals she could identify, with her laptop opened to the side of Logan’s, searching the properties of each. She also made notes of other substances in labeled boxes and bottles.

The work was tedious, but she methodically plodded onward, her interest piqued at what they were creating. Occasionally, she flipped the screen back to the other room, but Akram appeared busy at his laptop and Farrah stayed in the kitchen, first cleaning up from breakfast and then preparing their next meal. She had a small TV on the kitchen counter and would stand before it.

Rubbing her eyes, she stood, moving to the kitchen to fix a sandwich. As she walked back with her meal, she heard the crunch of tires over the gravel. Sliding the curtain back slightly, she saw a car park outside the Zaman’s house. Recognizing Rashad and Malik alighting from the vehicle, both carrying boxes, she hurried back to the laptop and watched them enter the house.

Akram greeted them with a cursory nod, his voice low and indistinguishable. Malik walked past Farrah in the kitchen without speaking to her, but Rashad nodded a greeting toward her. As Vivian changed the view on the cameras, she saw them enter the lab.

With white lab coats donned, along with gloves and masks, the two men sat at the tables and began taking more test tubes from the boxes they brought. Zooming in, she was frustrated when she realized there were no labels. If only I could get in there. Knowing that line of thinking would get her nowhere, she continued to monitor their progress as she munched on her sandwich.

Watching them carefully, she leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea as she analyzed what she was seeing. They are cautious, but not extraordinarily so. There is no way they can be working on deadly biologics or chemicals. Vivian knew bioterrorism did not have to cause immediate deaths, or life-threatening disease, to be effective. In fact, with a large gathering, such as the Olympics coming up, the only thing that the bioterrorism would need to do would be to cause panic, disruption and chaos. Categorized as 'incapacitating agents', they would be effective even if all they did was create a strain on a health care system by causing many thousands of sick patients to inundate treatment facilities that contained only limited quantities of drugs and only a few isolation beds.

Turning to her laptop, she began to research the most common incapacitating agents. Hearing another car approach, she moved to the window, this time observing as Nafisa arrived. Curious, she watched Nafisa enter the house, barely speaking to Akram, ignoring Farrah, and walk directly to the lab room. Malik looked up, greeting her with a smile, but Rashad never acknowledged Nafisa’s entrance. Vivian watched with interest the relationships playing out before her.

Malik continually glanced Nafisa’s direction. Nafisa ignored him, while appearing irritated at Rashad’s disinterest. A love triangle?

Before she had time to process if that information was of any interest to anyone else, her phone rang, pulling her away from her personal soap opera.

“Hey,” she said softly, knowing Logan was the only one who knew the number.

“Babe,” he said, his voice still sending warm tingles down her spine. “You doing okay?”

“Yep, I’ve managed to stay out of trouble and have been working on the video all day. Right now, the whole group is over there.”

“Good,” he replied. “Listen, I’m finished here and will head home soon. Thought I’d stop at the grocery.”

“Oooh, I’d love to make pizza tonight. Get whatever you like on it and some pizza dough.”

“I can just buy a frozen one— ”

“No! I want to dazzle you.”

The phone went silent for a moment and Vivian wondered if the line went dead. “Logan—”

“Viv, you want to dazzle me, all you gotta do is repeat last night.”

Smiling, she said, “Well, I can certainly do that, but how about I dazzle you in the kitchen first?”

“Kitchen, bedroom, living room…babe, you can dazzle me anywhere you want.”

Now laughing, she said, “Stop it. Just bring the pizza stuff. I’ll make dinner and then…we can see what comes next.”

“You got it. See you in a bit.”

Disconnecting, she stood and walked into the living room, plopping down on the sofa. Leaning her head back against the cushion, she closed her eyes, a huge sigh escaping her lips. Girl, what are you doing? You never do flings. Opening her eyes, she knew he had said what they were doing was not a fling. So, what is it? What happens when he goes back to wherever he came from and I go back to California? The silent room gave no answers. It’s okay…I can do this for now…enjoy what we have for now. Standing, she walked back into the kitchen, hoping she was not lying to herself.