Logan (Blue Halo Book 1)

Grace lifted her coffee and took a sip. Memories of last night’s kiss skittered through her mind on replay, lips still tingling from the feel of Logan’s mouth against hers.

A smile tugged at her lips, and not just because the kiss was so good. Because there’d been no panic. No hesitation. The tendrils of fear hadn’t even begun to seep into her soul. All she’d been able to think about was him. About how good he’d felt beneath her.

“Okay, what are you smiling about?” Courtney slid into the booth opposite her. “Wait.” She held up her hand. “I know that smile. It’s the ‘I did something dirty’ one. Oh my God.” She leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Did you have sex with Logan?”

Grace almost spat her coffee right out. “Um, no.” No way, no how. Just…no. “We kissed.”

Courtney’s smile widened. “Yeah, girl. Where?”

“Ah, in the car, after he pulled into his garage.”

Which didn’t actually sound that romantic, but, heck, it was probably the most romantic moment of her life.

“You must have some mighty strength, woman. If one of those boys kissed me, and his bed was just a few steps away, I don’t know how I’d stop myself.”

“It’s not strength, trust me,” Grace muttered, almost to herself.

The grin on Courtney’s lips dimmed. “What do you mean?”

Grace wrapped both her hands around the mug, enjoying the heat that filtered down her arms. Was it crazy that she actually wanted to tell Courtney a little of her past? Of what made her the person she was today? Having someone she could talk to would be nice. About what she’d experienced. About her wants, which mixed so intimately with her fears.

“Something happened to me,” she said quietly. “It was a few years ago, but it was…bad. A man hurt me and I’ve been learning how to live again ever since. I still, ah, struggle with a man’s touch.”

Although Logan seemed to be the exception for some reason.

Immediately, Courtney reached across the table, her touch soft. “I’m so sorry, Grace.”

She dipped her head. “Thank you. Last night was huge for me. A part of me almost believed I would never get past this trigger. That I would never be able to touch a man, kiss him, without panicking.”

Logan was helping her realize that maybe she could.

Empathy, and a tinge of sadness, darkened Courtney’s eyes. “I’ve only known Logan for a couple of months. But I can see the goodness in him. He has a pure heart. If there was anyone I thought you’d be safe with, it’s him.”

Grace felt that too. And not just safe in a physical sense. “You’re right. I almost wish…” She paused, shaking her head.

“That you were here longer?” Courtney finished for her.

The woman was a mind reader. “Yes. To see where the attraction might lead.” To see if she was capable of doing more than kissing a man.

“Do you have to leave?”

Did she? The media hadn’t recognized her as being the whistle-blower. In fact, they’d paid her little to no attention. It would still be smarter to leave, but… “I’ll check in and see if my patients might need me longer.” There was always the chance the safe houses would be delayed further. And there was no way she could leave the women if that were the case.

Courtney leaned forward. “Just remember, the greatest rewards in life usually come from the greatest risks.”

Fitting. Seeing as staying would be a risk. So, too, would attempting any kind of relationship with Logan. “Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself. It was one kiss. It’s not like he professed his undying love and wants to marry me.”

Or even that he’s forgiven me.

Courtney scoffed. “A man doesn’t carry a woman five miles on his back unless he at least likes her.”

Grace wanted that to be true.

“Well, I for one hope you stay. This town is in low supply of women willing to listen to me ramble about nothing important over coffee every day.”

“You didn’t move here with any family or friends?” A partner maybe?

“Nope. I knew no one.” She paused, seeming to consider her next words. “My cousin, also my best friend, died a couple of years ago. Less than a week later, I quit my job, packed up my life and moved here.” She swung her gaze around the shop. “We dreamed about opening a shop like this.”

It was Grace’s turn to reach across the table, wrapping her fingers around Courtney’s. “I’m sorry you lost her.”

Pain flashed across her face. “Thank you.” She lifted a shoulder. “Running this shop keeps her in my thoughts. But no, I don’t see many young women around.”

“What about Blake’s daughter’s mother?” Grace asked. She was pretty sure that was the woman she’d seen outside with Blake the other day.

Courtney nodded. “Yes, her name’s Willow. She pops in every so often, usually to drop Mila off when Blake’s here. She never stays long. I think she’s really busy with work and her studies.”

That, on top of mothering, definitely sounded busy.

Lowering her gaze, Grace studied the mug Courtney was holding.

I’m holding this cup of coffee, so yeah, I’m pretty busy.

A laugh burst from her chest. “Willow’s not the only busy person if your mug’s to be believed.”

“Hey! You don’t need to be busy, just smart. And I was smart by hiring such a brilliant second-in-charge in the form of Joey.”

Grace turned to look at the man behind the counter, who always seemed to be on the move.

Courtney lowered her voice. “So, do you see another kiss in the cards with the sexy soldier?”

Electricity tingled through Grace’s stomach at the thought. “Well, I wouldn’t say no.”

Logan lowered his stance, watching his opponent closely, waiting for him to strike.

The guy matched him in size. They were both equally strong and fast. Even though Logan had special forces training, which was superior to that of his opponent’s five years in the Army, they’d both been taken. Both been exposed to the enhancement drugs and trained at the compound.

Jason’s fist came at him hard and fast. Logan dodged.

He countered the punch with his own. Jason mirrored Logan’s move, ducking his head and narrowly missing the hit.

Kicking his leg out, Logan swiped Jason’s legs from under him, sending him to the floor. Jason recovered quickly, kicking out his own leg and sending Logan down to join him. Then they were grappling, each man only getting the upper hand for a second before the power switched.

On a different day, Logan would have gone easier on his friend. He would have fought fair. After all, this was training.

But today, anger flowed through his veins. And the anger was red-hot.

Not at Jason. Not at anyone he knew personally.

Logan flipped their bodies so he was on top. His fist flew forward, nailing the guy right in the face. He was about to throw a second—he came pretty damn close—when crimson blood started flowing from Jason’s nose.

Logan stopped, jumping to his feet. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Jason stood slowly, not showing the slightest inkling of pain, as he grabbed a towel and wiped the blood from his face. “What’s going on with you?”

Logan ran both his hands up his face and through his hair. It was that damn obvious.

Jason tilted his head. “It’s Steve’s phone call from this afternoon, isn’t it?”

“Yes, dammit. I thought that asshole Ice would stay underground for at least a little while after we dismantled his organization. And Ketchum? Really?”

Not only had the scumbag taken another woman so soon after they’d shut down his operation in Mexico, but he’d taken the redhead from Ketchum—one town over from Cradle Mountain.

“I know. It’s not good.”

Logan could think of stronger adjectives to describe the situation. “Why was she taken from Ketchum? Because he found out it was us? Is this some kind of a sick warning?”

They weren’t questions his friend could answer. But he needed answers.

“I don’t know. But if he’s close, he’s just saving us the trouble of tramping across the country to find him.”

Logan breathed out a hot, frustrated breath. “I don’t like him being so close to Grace. I know she doesn’t fit the description of the women he’s taking. Wrong age. Wrong hair color. But I still don’t like it.”

Jason stepped closer. “This guy has been running his business on a very specific look for years. He’s not going to detour and take someone different now.”

Unless he knew about Logan’s involvement and, further, somehow found out about him and Grace. Not that there really was a him and Grace. Not at the moment. But the woman was living in his house.

And he was just so fucking mad that there was another victim. There shouldn’t have been—because Ice should be dead.

Logan’s jaw ticked. “What the hell is the point of us being trained killers if we can’t destroy the assholes we need to?”

“The point?” Jason raised his brows. “You think there’s a point to what happened to us? There isn’t. But we’re using it to our advantage and doing what we can. Ice’s days are numbered. So are this Beau guy’s.”

He knew that. He just wished he had a more definitive number of days. “You’re right. I’m gonna head home.”

Hopefully on the way, he’d calm the hell down.

Before he stepped out of the room, Jason took hold of his arm. “You sure you’re okay?”

No. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Grabbing his bag, Logan threw it over his shoulder before stepping outside and heading to his car.

He’d only been driving for a couple of minutes when he saw the tail. The driver was clearly trying to remain hidden but doing an amateur job of it.

When Logan turned the next corner, he stopped his car so that he was blocking the street.

Climbing out, he waited, watching as the person who had been following rounded the corner before slamming on the brake. That’s when he saw who it was.

Nicole.

His eyes narrowed at the sight of her behind the wheel. Why was it that the other reporters could take a hint and get the hell out of town, but she couldn’t?

The surprise on her face only lasted for a second before it was replaced by that cool, calm, professional smile.

God, even that infuriated him.

Logan walked forward, stopping in front of her door as she climbed out.

He forced himself to dampen the fire he wanted to throw her way. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Hello to you too, Logan. I was just coming to talk to you.”

“By trailing me home?” At her silence, Logan had to work hard to control his voice. “There’s nothing for us to talk about.”

She took a voice recorder out of her pocket, the one she always seemed to have at the ready, and switched it on. “Two years is a long time to be held in captivity. Is there residual anger?”

Logan remained silent for a moment, praying to every God he knew to give him strength. Strength to not lash out at this annoying, godforsaken woman.

Then she pushed the goddamn recorder closer to his face so that it sat an inch from his mouth.

And he lost the last remnants of his cool.

Grabbing it from her fingers, he crushed it in his hand. Her mouth dropped open. The thing was in a million tiny pieces, so dismantled it was beyond repair as it fell through his fingers onto the road.

He kept his voice low and even. “You come near me with one of those things again, and it will be dust, too.”

The smile returned to her lips. “A reporter doesn’t always need words for a story. Actions work just fine. Anything else you want to do while I’m here? Beat your chest before throwing my car over your shoulder? Throw me over your shoulder?”

She was baiting him. And it was working.

Leaning down, he stopped when his face was inches from hers. He saw the flare of fear before she masked it. “Stay away from me, Miss Fleece. I’m not someone you want to piss off.”

“What a lovely quote for my story.”

Straightening, Logan forced himself to walk away before he did something he’d really regret. He’d never hit a woman before, and never would. But her car? Yeah, that was definitely at risk.

Lowering into his seat, he took off, pressing his foot to the pedal and driving away too quickly for her to follow.