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Chapter 10

After being thoroughly patted dry in the bathroom I follow Logan back into the master suite and wonder if he plans on staying here or in the spare room down the hall. I am surprised to find that the lamp on the nightstand has been switched off, and now the only light in the room is from the glow of a fire that pops and crackles in the hearth. I unzip my bag on the bed and instinctively pull out a clean tank top and pair of shorts to put on, but pause when I look over at him.

The towel is wrapped low around his hips, and the firelight reflects off the few drops of water that still clings to his shoulder blades. I watch inquisitively as Logan shoves his dirty clothes into an army green duffle bag that's leaning against the chair. He pulls the drawstring closed and without taking anything out of it, sends it over the back of the chair where it lands with a resounding thump on the floor.

Seemingly unaffected by his lack of clothing he settles himself into the midnight blue velour chair that is placed on an angle in front of the fire. I am mesmerized by sculpted muscles that ripple beneath fire lighted skin, and ache to trail my fingers across the bright peaks and shadowed valleys of his chest. Unaware of my gaze he crosses his bare feet on the foot rest and lets his arms drape over the padded armrests.

He picks up the crystal on-the-rocks glass off the mahogany table next to him and sips the amber liquid that I am sure is from Sonny's private stock. He winces at the first swallow then closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh as his body seems to finally give in to the strain of the past few days.

I search my bag for a comb or a brush and curse since I can't seem to find either. Looking up I find him watching me, and when he speaks his voice seems to have dropped an octave or two. "I hope you don't mind that I lit the fire. I never had a fireplace inside of a house; never mind inside of a bedroom. When I grew up we only had a pit in the backyard."

The sexy tone of his voice makes my stomach flutter, and I struggle to keep mine at its normal pitch. "I don't mind, it took the chill out of the room plus I find it relaxing to watch a fire burn."

The crystal tumbler dangles precariously between his strong fingers and with a flick of his wrist he blindly sends the liquid swirling around the ice. The ice cubes jingle against the glass and I swallow hard as I remember the strength of his fingers as they had gripped my hips a few nights ago.

I check the outside pockets of my bag and find the brush that Carly had tucked inside, and start my attempt to comb out the knots in my hair. I lift my arm up and grimace with the first tug of the brush and grit my teeth at the burning pain that zings my ribcage.

I let out shaky breath and he sits back patting the footrest in front of him. "Come here and sit down before you hurt yourself."

I check the security of my tucked in towel, and take a seat in front of him resigning myself to the fact that I need help. His fingertips brush my bare shoulders as he smoothes wet hair against my back. A chill races up my spine while goose bumps spread across my arms, and I'm not sure if it's from the coldness of my hair or the lingering feel of his touch.

He makes quick work of the tangles as the fire warms the bare skin that my towel doesn't over. I turn my head slightly to watch him over my shoulder as he places kisses along the spot where my shoulder meets my neck. His breath tickles me as he murmurs, "You look beautiful in the firelight."

I smile and lean back against him letting him lift me onto his lap. I tuck my knees up against the arm of the chair and curl up against him resting my head against his bare chest. We sit there together, his arms wrapped around me while we watch the flames consume the logs. The wood pops and crackles in the heat, and I fight the urge to close my eyes.

My gaze shifts from the fire to the man beneath me, he is never this quiet, and I wonder what he is thinking. His hand mindlessly strokes my towel covered thigh as he stares into the fire. I trail my fingertips lightly over the outline of the tattoo as I ask, "A penny for your thoughts?"

"Hmm?" he replies as he presses a kiss into my drying hair. "What did you say Spencer?"

I concentrate on the smoothness of his skin under my fingertips as they move from his shoulder to his chest swirling in invisible circles, "I asked what you were thinking, you seem miles away tonight."

He sighs and captures my hand with his watching the way his thumb moves over my knuckles. "Just thinking about the past few days, that's all."

"Planning what we are going to do next?" I muse.

"No." he answers looking into my eyes. "About us … and the other night at the apartment."

"Oh?" I tense and sit up straighter putting a little bit of distance between us.

His fingertips brush my cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are we okay?"

His question surprises me, and I search his face for the reason behind it.
"Why wouldn't we be?"

He is slow to answer me, and I feel a familiar panic start to tighten around my throat. "I don't know, things got so crazy afterwards and I never got to see if you were okay with what happened."

I look down into my lap and fumble with the edge of my towel between my fingertips. "Logan, you've lost me."

His index finger lifts my face up towards his as he continues, "Lulu, you're the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I know how big of a step it was for you. I understand what it meant and I feel like a jerk because I never got the chance to tell you how I felt. "

I swallow hard as I wait for him to continue, it's been so easy to focus all of my attention on all the other scary shit that has been going on since we spent that night together. But now that the outside world is safely blocked out by body guards and bullet proof glass, the only thing left to be afraid of is what is happening between us.

I look deep into his eyes and see the truth before the words even leave his lips. "I love you Lulu Spencer."