Chapter 24

Auralie

Three weeks later…

“Well, I think it’s okay for Logan to call off his guard dogs,” my dad says in exasperation.

“Dad,” I say in warning. “Until Magnus goes to trial—”

“He’s in jail, Auralie,” my dad points out. This I already know as he was arrested almost two weeks ago after the prosecutor tallied all the evidence from my dad as well as some other witnesses, including the Ponzi investors. Because of the nature of the white-collar crimes, all of Magnus’ assets were seized by the government at the time of his arrest, so he was without funds to make bail.

“Yes, he’s in jail,” I agree. “But he still has contacts out in the world, and you’re the primary witness against him. So keep the guard dogs.”

“It’s hard to run a scam with them looking over my shoulder,” he grumbles, and I have to laugh. I mean, it’s not funny that my dad makes his living on the streets, but it’s what he knows. I’m trying to change that though, and Logan and I are hoping to talk him into a move here when he comes out to visit later this week.

“Dad, those guys don’t care what you do,” I remind him. “They’re not police. They’re—”

“Guard dogs,” he inserts.

“Woof-woof,” I bark at him, and he laughs at me.

I laugh back, and it’s easy, natural and fun. I can do it because my life is set right again, and I have so much to laugh about.

“Okay, Dad,” I say into the phone as I hold it between my ear and shoulder at the same time I’m trying to put new sheets on the mattress. It’s a difficult enough task to do on its own, but it’s nearly impossible when I’m on the phone, because Logan’s little bed extends from wall to wall with no room to walk on either side. Add in the fact I’m trying to carry on a conversation with my dad has me grimacing in frustration as one corner pops off as I try to pull another tight. “I’ll see you in a few days, and we’ll have so much fun when you get here.”

“Can’t wait, darlin’,” my dad says. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I mutter, dropping the phone from my shoulder where it clatters to the floor. I then pull the one corner tight, crawl across the bed and pull the other tight, before rolling off and holding my breath, hoping the sheet stays in place.

The door to the trailer opens, and Logan stomps inside. I look over my shoulder at him, and he laughs.

“What’s up with the look of consternation?” he asks as he comes up to stand behind me.

I turn to look back at the bed and warn him, “Don’t move too suddenly… that damn sheet might pop off at the slightest provocation.”

Logan laughs again, and oh… I love that sound.

“I don’t know,” he says between chuckles. “It looks pretty solid to me.”

“You didn’t just spend the last fifteen minutes wrestling with it,” I mutter.

“Well, let’s test it out,” he says.

Before I know it, I’m hauled into the air, twisted around and then sailing toward the mattress where I land with a bounce, then another, before Logan is jumping on top of me.

He straddles me at my waist and looks down at me with a grin. “See… sheets held tight.”

“So I see,” I say dryly.

“Let’s give them a real work out, okay?” he says as his hands go to my shirt to whisk it off me.

I giggle and make a half-assed attempt to push him away, but then his hands are on my breasts and his fingers are plucking at my nipples through the thin material of my bra.

Sighing in contentment, I then start to squirm under his ministrations, which are sadly brief because his hands are at my jeans and they’re being pulled unceremoniously from my legs.

I stretch like a cat as he crawls back up my body and lays part of his weight on me, the rest being held up by his strong arms locked at my sides.

“Your dad good?” he asks as he peers down at me.

I nod as I pull my bottom lip between my teeth briefly, let it pop free, and say, “He’s excited about coming to visit. Thank you for buying a ticket for him and putting him up in a hotel.”

“You smile at me like that more often, and I’ll buy you the world,” he quips.

Turns out, Logan might not actually be able to buy me the world, but he’s far from a poor Wyoming fisherman. That night almost three weeks ago when Logan came to me in New York, and after he confessed what he deemed to be unforgivable sins, he told me all about his prior life.

He was able to talk more freely once we got past the tragic circumstances of Carrie’s death, and he clued me in on a few things. Although Logan had just finished his residency, he had made good money. Add on his wife was also a surgeon and that they were both fairly frugal, and that meant they had a nice savings when they split up. He got half of all assets in his divorce, including the equity when they sold their home and those monies have sat in investment accounts getting bigger and bigger while he led a meager life the last two years. It didn’t make Logan super wealthy but it gave him enough money to hire protection for me and my dad.

My heart contracts painfully now as I think about Carrie. After that painful unloading that day, we’ve talked here and there about his daughter. I think if Logan has his way, he wouldn’t talk about it ever again, but I’m not about to let that happen. He needs to remember the good times with her, and he can’t do that when he shuts everything about his past out. I’ve also encouraged him to reach out to his parents and they’ve had some tentative talks via phone. They’re pushing to come here for a visit but I don’t think he’s quite ready for that yet. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to bring it up whenever I can, because he needs to reconnect with them. He needs to have them back in his life.

Sometimes he gets frustrated with me for continually pushing him to confront his past, but I’ve also noticed positive changes since I’ve been hounding him.

The nightmares for one thing.

They’ve dwindled to coming very infrequently, and when they do come, I’m there waiting for him to use me in the way that he best needs. It’s never like it was that one night when he needed me so badly that he couldn’t even take the time to get me wet, but rather, if he has a nightmare, he’ll wake me up first from slumber, then he wakes my body up with his mouth and hands. After that, he fucks me, usually quite urgently but with no less care than he’s given me since that day we reconnected in New York City.

That day… it was the start of my new life.

Logan’s too.

I packed my bags and returned to Wyoming with him three days after he arrived, content to live in Logan’s little tin trailer for the rest of my life, although he’s mentioned a few times perhaps we’ll move to a condo with a bigger bed and better kitchen. While I still could never tell my dad everything that happened between Logan and me, because that would include having to clue him in on the terrible things Magnus had me do, I told him enough that he was content with the knowledge his daughter was falling in love for the first time.

And since I returned with Logan, I’ve continued to fall for my doctor-turned-fisherman.

Helplessly, deeply, irrevocably, and forever in love with this man.

“Baby… that look on your face makes me want to eat your pussy until you come about fifty different times,” Logan growls, and I focus in on his face.

So intent.

So serious.

Filled with lust and something I think is love, but I’m not quite sure.

But one thing I’ve come to realize over these past three weeks living my new life with Logan is that he’s still hesitant to accept the good. He’s still fearful it will be ripped away. He’s afraid to believe that I’m here to stay.

So I attempt to make it easy on him.

My hands go to his face. I rub my fingers against the bristles of the beard he claims he’s going to grow for the winter months. “I love you, Logan.”

He sucks in an astonished breath and his eyes go slightly blank… as if he’s afraid to believe my words and he’s distancing himself from the pain of rejection.

“It’s true,” I say, making my tone matter of fact while pressing my fingers into his cheeks to make sure I have his attention. “I’ve gone and fallen right down the rabbit hole of love with you, Logan McKay.”

He blinks down at me, and I see a slight flicker of hope in his eyes.

“Yup,” I continue on lightly. “No clue how it happened, but now that I’ve given into it, I’m rolling with it. And it feels right, you know?”

He gives a slight nod, and I beam back at him.

“Be honest with me,” I say to him seriously. “I’m not too crazy to be feeling that, right?”

He doesn’t hesitate in the slightest, just shakes his head at me. More hope fills his gaze and it’s almost painful to watch, but I press forward.

“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” I say neutrally. “I can wait for you to—”

“I love you,” he blurts out. Giving me a look of fear, he waits to see my reaction.

That breaks my heart that he’s so out of tune with his own capacity for love, but I put on a brilliant smile. “Well, of course you do,” I say brightly. “What’s not to love about me?”

“There’s everything to love about you,” he murmurs.

I watch, spellbound, as all the apprehension finally melts away and he’s staring back at me with nothing but abject devotion and tenderness.

My eyes mist up briefly, but I know I can’t make this moment too heavy for Logan. He’s still sensitive to the newness of expressing emotion, and I don’t want him to retreat or think on it too much. So I slide my hands around the back of his neck and press my fingers into his muscles.

“Soooo,” I drawl out as I wiggle underneath him. “I think you said something about fifty orgasms.”

That’s usually enough to get him focused, but the usual flare of heat my seductive words would cause doesn’t come. Instead, he looks down at me with that same mix of sweet tenderness with a slight bit of unease because we just got done exchanging very important words that cement our bond even stronger.

I tilt my head and silently ask him, What’s wrong?

“I love you,” he says firmly, enunciating the words so they ring clear and true. “I. Love. You.”

I let out a quavering breath. My insides turn to absolute mush as I realize that Logan is not only telling me how he feels, he’s also communicating to me that he is fucking owning these emotions, and he’s doing it so bravely and without fear that it will all get jerked away from him at some point.

“Oh, baby,” I whisper, pulling him down to me. His head goes to my shoulder and his arms lock around me. I hold him tight to my body, and I revel in this man surrounding me.

This man who has invaded me and now controls my heart.

My life.

“Auralie,” he says as he turns his head into my neck. “I’m accepting it.”

“What’s that?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

“That maybe it’s okay if I have something great in my life.”

“Yeah, honey,” I say with a smile on my lips and lightness in my heart. “It’s totally okay to accept that.”

We’re silent for a moment, just holding on to each other.

Then he shifts, lifts his head, and peers down at me. “Now I think I’ll hand out some of those orgasms we were just discussing.”

I smile at him, unable to stop my body squirming at the thought. “That’s something I can totally accept too.”