“I can see this doesn’t make you happy, but that was what I was told. I don’t see any other way for us to make this work.” Vivian sighed as she leaned forward, her pleading gaze landing squarely on Logan.

“I was basically given the same information,” he confessed, “although, I was just given the name of Sanders, assumed you were male, and had no idea we were to be sharing a house. And certainly not pretending to be married.”

Standing, she collected the bottles and headed into the kitchen, chucking them into the trash. Her mind swirled with the new information. He clearly was not prepared for this and she had no idea what he was going to do. If he refused the mission the way it was, she would have to report back to work with nothing, and she hated not knowing what the neighbors were possibly cooking up in their house. Hearing a noise behind her, she startled, whirling around to find him standing right behind her.

“Jesus, you scared me,” she said, her hand to her throat. “You move so quietly for such a large man in boots.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m used to living and working on my own…at least for the past couple of years. Not used to company in the house. Guess I’ve lost my manners.”

Leaning her hips against the counter, she peered up at his face, holding his gaze. “So, have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“I admit to being surprised, but I agreed to the mission, so I’ll work the mission.”

Letting out a huff of air, she opened her mouth, but he got there first.

“But,” he added, “I have no idea about the marriage thing. Never been married. Never figured I would.” She burst into laughter, a sound he was unused to and, yet, the melodious tone was not unwelcome.

“Logan, you don’t have to know about marriage, after all, we’re just pretending. We’ll just act like a normal couple.”

Logan remained quiet, not wanting to admit he had not been part of a couple in a long time and that his only experience with it was just a college romance that only lasted a few months. When he had needs, it was easy enough to find a willing woman, usually a tourist passing through, or SEAL bunnies years earlier, but lately it had been his hand he had been wedded to.

Walking over, she placed her hand on his arm. “Come on, let’s get the rest of your stuff inside and then we can put our heads together.”

Still smiling, she walked to the kitchen door leading outside and he followed in her wake, unwanted and unexpected, ideas of what he would like to put together with her, bouncing in his mind.

And with that came the realization that this mission with her was a mistake. A big mistake.

“Good God, you’ve got one of those old gas-guzzling trucks as well,” she huffed, shaking her head.

He sighed. Yeah…a big mistake.

* * *

Sitting at the table, digging into their easily nuked dinner, Vivian looked over, a crooked smile on her face. “I should apologize for the dinner. It was just simple for tonight, but I really can cook.”

“No need,” Logan commented, keeping his eyes on his plate as he shoveled another forkful into his mouth. “You don’t need to cook for me.”

“Well, I’m certainly not going to cook for just myself,” she retorted. Popping the last piece of bread into her mouth, she took a hearty gulp of tea before standing to take her plate to the sink. Washing it, she reached her hand out for his dish as he moved toward the sink.

“I’ll get it,” he said, sliding in next to her at the sink.

“How about you wash and I’ll dry?” she offered, smiling at him.

Logan nodded, the dour frown on his face lifting for a second. So used to being in his house by himself, he found it disconcerting to have someone sharing the space. Once finished with the plates, cups, and utensils, he wiped his hands as she finished drying. Watching as she stood on her toes to reach the top shelf to set the cups, he reached around her, his front at her back as he took them from her to place them there. Their proximity unnerved him and he stepped back quickly, but she did not seem to notice.

“Thanks,” she said, twisting her head around to grin up at him. “See? We’ll get along just fine.”

* * *

“Insufferable man!” Vivian grumbled under her breath.

Their pseudo relationship devolved quickly after dinner with an argument over her phone and their rooms. She wanted to discuss their plan but he appeared to be as closed-mouth about it as he was everything else. Her earlier attempts to draw him out had been met with silence and now he was invading her space and making demands. Pulling her phone out of her purse, he took it and shoved it in his pocket.

“As of now, this phone is off limits for you—”

“What?” she screeched, her gaze snapping.

Handing her a burner phone, he said, “Use this. Only when you have to.”

She held out her hand, palm up, and demanded right back, “Give me my phone.”

“Nope. And you need to get your things out of this room and into the bedroom across the hall.”

Incensed, she argued, “Why? My things are already in the closet and drawers.”

“I need the room on this side.”

Standing in the hall, she watched as he dumped his bags on the bed she slept in last night. “The rooms are the same size,” she said, following him into the bedroom and grabbing the handles of his duffle bag, attempting to lift it. Barely able to budge the heavy bag, she grimaced as he swiftly moved in, putting his hand on the top.

“Don’t,” he ordered. “Don’t touch my things.”

Whirling around, she huffed, “Seriously? I normally wouldn’t consider touching someone else’s property, but you’ve entered my room, putting your bag on my bed, not to mention you stole my phone!”

“I’m taking this room,” Logan declared, once more, his tone firm. Used to men under him obeying without argument, her defiance began to unnerve him.

Stepping closer, with her hands clasped together in front of her, Vivian took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. Pinning him with narrowed eyes, she forced her voice to be calm. “I will not leave this room without you giving me a reason. A good reason. You are not my boss. You are not here to order me about. You are—”

“I need to be on this side because it faces the neighbor’s house.”

Her mouth hung open as her eyes darted to the window, the neighbor’s house clearly in view. Snapping it shut, she finally mumbled, “Oh.”

Logan looked down at her, seeing the blush staining her cheeks.

Swallowing audibly, she complained, “If you had just said so to begin with, I would have understood.”

Moving to his bag, he unzipped the duffle, pulling out some sweats and running shoes. Moving silently around her, he stepped into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind him, leaving her still standing in the middle of the bedroom.

A moment later, he walked out of the bathroom, bypassing her, heading down the hall. She hurried after him, calling out, “Where are you going?”

“Running.”

“But why now? We need to talk about what we’re doing! Plans to make—”

Turning on his heel, he faced her, barely keeping her from running into his body as she skidded to a stop. “Vivian. We will talk, but not now. I’m going for a run and you’re going to get your things set up in the other bedroom.” Watching her jaw drop, he lifted his finger and placed it on her chin, shutting her mouth. “And Viv? Get used to this, ‘cause as of right now, I am your boss.”

With that, he turned and walked out the front door, closing it behind him.

Fifteen minutes later, Vivian found herself going between the two bedrooms, transferring her clothes from one to the other. As she put the last of her things in the chest, she slammed the drawer in frustration. It got caught and she shoved all her weight against it, crying out in anger. Stepping back, she sat on the bed, blinking back tears. Glancing out the window, she saw the sky as the sun set, turning beautiful colors over the deep green of the fir trees. Realizing this bedroom did not get the glaring morning sun, but did get the glorious sunsets, made it the better room, even though they were the same size. He couldn’t have known that…he wasn’t being nice…just demanding. And now I look like an idiot for standing up for myself when I wouldn’t have had to if he’d just come out and explained things.

Walking back into his bedroom to make sure she had all her possessions, she looked at the bed, his big bag still sitting on the quilt. Damn…the sheets. Sighing, she knew she needed to change them since she had slept on them last night. Moving to the bed, she grabbed the handles once more, lugging on his bag to move it, struggling just to lift it off. Standing for a moment in indecision, she decided to take some of his clothes out so she could move the duffle.

Don’t touch my things. “Humph,” she groused. “I’ll touch them or you won’t sleep on clean sheets.”

Burying the feeling of guilt, she unzipped the top and reached inside to lift out a pile of clothes. Her fingers hit cold metal and she snatched them back as though burned. Sucking in her lips, she hesitated before her curiosity got the better of her. Leaning over, she peered inside, seeing two guns in holsters, and at least one other lying underneath some clothes. Her breath left her in a whoosh and she plopped down heavily as her thoughts tumbled.

Lightheaded, she began to breathe deeply, acknowledging that nothing was going the way she thought it would. I thought I’d share a house with some nice man who would just sneak in next door, do his thing, get some samples for me to test, and then we’d be outta here. Guns? Weapons? And who knows what else is in that bag.

Jumping up, she bent over the bag again, carefully placing the clothes back the way she found them before zipping it closed. Fixing the handles the way they were before she began her ill-fated sheet changing, she stepped back. Looks the same. He can’t tell. Letting out a whooshing breath once more, she glanced about the room in guilt before hurrying to the living room.