Finding Home (Montana Born Homecoming Book 2) (18 page)

To Sam’s relief,
Jade ate several carrot sticks and almost half a sandwich before she started head-bobbing. They’d moved to the casual seating adjacent to the cafeteria, where the dog would be allowed.

She heard a woof and looked up to see Logan striding down the wide corridor with Bob straining at her harness.

His long legs ate up the distance and he held the excited dog easily, laughing at her antics. Maybe it was the storm still raging outside, but it seemed to Sam that the whole solarium grew brighter, warmer, with his approach.

“Bob, Bob, Bob,” called Jade blearily.

The dog threw herself at them, her tail thumping wildly. She pressed her head against Jade and groaned.

Logan slid onto the upholstered seat beside Sam. Raindrops sparkled in his hair and his shirt was wet and molded to his shoulders.

“Now that,” he said with a grin, “was a dog that needed to pee.”

“She’s such a good girl,” said Sam, ruffling Bob’s ears. “Thank you, Logan. I didn’t even think to ask if she could come inside.”

He shrugged. “That’s the beauty of a small town; word’s gotten around that she’s a service dog, even if she doesn’t have a vest.”

Jade gave Bob a lick of her frozen yogurt. Sam pretended she didn’t see.

“How’s Josh?”

“Fine. His dad’s with him, and his mom’s on the way,” said Logan. “Kid’s going to have a nice bruise to show the girls, but nothing to affect his game. He’ll get beat up far worse on the field, just watch.”

Even though Sam hardly knew Josh Peterson, relief coursed through her at the news.

“Better safe than sorry though,” continued Logan. “With Homecoming excitement ramping up, everyone’s justifiably twitchy.”

Logan had been distracted by her and Jade and Sam felt bad about that. He was up to his eyeballs in stress and work and obligations, much of which were due to her own overly-demanding inflexibility; she shouldn’t keep him from where he really needed to be.

“You don’t have to stay with us, Logan,” she said.

He smiled, put his hand on her thigh, lightly, and ignored her.

“I talked to Mabel’s nurse. They’ll be keeping her for a few days while the clot-busters work, but they expect her to make a full recovery. She was already complaining about the tea, apparently. She’s asleep now.”

Sam dropped her head backward. “Thank heaven.”

“Auntie M’s sleeping?” mumbled Jade.

“Yes, she is.” Logan gathered her onto his lap. “And you should be too. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you.”

The movers!

She couldn’t believe it had been the most important thing on her mind this morning.

“My furniture,” she said. “What happened with it?”

“It’s all fine. We got it in before the rain.”

He said it so casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

“Wait. You got it in where? In storage?”

“In the house.”

“What?” She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “But it’s not ready. How did you… when did you…?”

“A promise is a promise, Sam.” Logan stood up, holding Jade’s wobbling head gently against his shoulder. “I had to call in a few favors. Lucky for you, people like me.”

“I want to see it!” Sam scrambled to her feet, nearly tripping on Bob, who responded with a yelp.

A slow smile spread over Logan’s face. “It’s a mess. You’re tired. Maybe in the morning.”

“Logan!” She punched him lightly in the arm. It was like punching concrete.

They hurried through the quiet corridors toward the parking lot.

“Here, take her, I’ll bring the car around.” Logan deposited Jade gently into her arms before dashing out into the rain.

Suddenly Sam’s chest was so tight it felt like it might burst. She pressed her face into Jade’s warm hair, her breath coming in short, sharp jerks.

She was thrilled and relieved and excited about seeing her house.

But that’s not what had her in tears.

It was those little gestures, remembering the dog, carrying Jade, getting the car, that cracked her heart wide open.

Logan was with her, at her side, recognizing her needs and doing what he could to meet them, without being asked, with no expectations or fanfare.

Because that’s what you did when you loved someone.

She sucked in a great gasp of air.

It was the Spider-Killing Factor.

*

It wasn’t the
grand finale he’d hoped for, thought Logan, as he pulled Sam’s car to a stop on Collier Avenue.

He saw her face as she stepped over the threshold, hands clasped in front of her mouth, and wondered if he’d made a huge mistake bringing her here tonight.

Bob trotted through the doorway, her ears perked. She ran from one piece of furniture to the other, sniffing and whining, her tail flapping like a flag.

At least the dog was happy.

“It’s a mess, I know,” he said, stepping around the couch. “We’ll finish cleaning and get everything in the right place tomorrow. Inspector’s coming then, too. But it’s all here, Sam. I watched them unload and there’s no damage.”

She walked through as if dreaming, trailing her hand over things as she passed. She was sort of smiling, but she was sort of crying too. Maybe this was her worst nightmare.

In his arms, Jade twitched. It certainly wouldn’t do the chipmunk any good to see such disorder. What had he been thinking?

“This is…” Sam shook her head, moving to the kitchen. “I can’t believe it. Who did all this?”

“My crew, mostly,” said Logan, wincing. The kitchen was the worst. “They each called a friend or two. Good kids, but not detail-oriented.”

The table was piled high with boxes bearing labels such as
Bath Towels
and
Jade’s Room
and
Winter Boots.
Who knows where the dishes and cutlery landed? Tools and trash littered the countertops. The new sink was covered with grime, the faucet set dull and smeared.

By the time she went upstairs, his heart was hammering in his chest. Sam pushed open the door to the master bedroom and stopped, stock still. Bob darted past her.

Instead of going in, she moved to Jade’s room, her steps quickening. The canopy was up on the princess bed and the lamp was plugged in.

“Did you do this?” She gestured to the stuffed bear he’d nestled against the cushions. Her hands were at her mouth again and her voice sounded choked.

Logan nodded. Once the big items were in, he’d worked on these rooms himself. The rest of the house might be a mess, but at least this part would be clean and somewhat orderly.

Sam went back to her room and entered this time. She touched the bed frame and fingered the edge of the duvet.

“You made the beds. You put soap in the bathroom. You did all this. You found Jade’s pajamas!”

She looked at him in wonder, her eyes shining. In that endless, wordless moment, gazing at each other, he felt something that could only be called synchronicity. Their timing finally clicked. The compass points of their individual lives overlapped, connected, slid into perfect union and snapped into place.

They were locked together like crosshairs on a target, no escaping the inevitable, each of them fighter plane and rebel at the same time.

He would never, ever let her go again. And he’d forever be her captive.

“I probably put the sheets on all wrong,” he said. But his spirits were soaring.

She went back to Jade’s room, gesturing for him to follow.

“Put her down.”

Logan laid the child gently on the bed. “Shouldn’t we get her back to Bramble House?”

“Nope.”

Quickly, Sam replaced Jade’s rumpled street clothes with the Hello Kitty pajamas and tucked her under the covers.

“Up, Bob,” she said.

The dog needed no further encouragement. She curled up tightly next to Jade, put her head on the girl’s body and sighed deeply.

Sam took his hand and led him out of Jade’s room, leaving the door open just a crack.

“You and I need to talk,” she said.

“Those,” he said, “are the most dreaded words a woman could say to a man.”

She laughed and tugged him up against her.

“It’s okay,” she said, pulling his face down for a kiss, “because first, you’re going to show me how that beautiful new shower works.”

Her arms were around his neck and he could feel her breath tickling his ear.

“Then we’re going to examine exactly how you put on the sheets.”

Between each word, she planted soft kisses along his jawline. The throaty purr of her voice sent heat ripping through him.

“Then we’re going to finish what we started last night.”

*

Instantly, the mood
changed. As Sam tugged his shirt off, the air grew charged between them, heavy, like the moonlit sky outside her window that even after the storm remained raw and unsettled.

Logan leaned forward, but she put her hands on his chest.

“Let me look at you,” she whispered.

She trailed her fingers across the hard planes of muscle and bone and sinew. This was not the body of a boy playing a pickup shirts-and-skins game after school in the park. This was a man, solid and real.

She let her fingers travel lower, to the top of his jeans.

“Sam,” he muttered.

She lifted her gaze. His jaw was clenched; his eyes squeezed shut, as if he was in pain.

“Logan. I want this. Don’t you?”

He laughed, a brief, strangled sound. “Since the second I saw you.”

“Then kiss me.”

For a moment he stood there, staring, as if he was fighting a battle with himself.

Then he swallowed, the Adam’s apple bobbing in his lean, tawny throat. He lifted his hand to her jaw and cupped it, the tips of his fingers curling toward the back of her neck. Shock waves rippled down her spine.

He leaned closer slowly, keeping his eyes on hers, his gaze intense and focused. Then his lips were on hers and it was all touch and taste and pressure. She tightened her arms around his neck, clinging, grasping, unable to get him close enough or deep enough.

She felt suddenly desperate, more naked even than last night. This was a
don’t-stop, never-let-go
kind of kiss.

A
my-life-depends-on-this
kind of kiss.

An
I-love-you, I-love-you, I-love-you
kind of kiss.

At least, it was for her. But was it the same for him? Was Mabel right? It was there in his actions, in everything he’d done for them, for her, since she’d returned. She wanted to believe it, but she was afraid.

“Sam,” he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek. “Are you sure?”

Always so damn thoughtful, she thought.

He kissed her as if she was something rare and precious, a treasure just discovered by a man who wasn’t certain of its existence, and who couldn’t quite believe his good fortune now.

Time to make him a believer.

“Absolutely,” she said, reaching for the button of his jeans. “But if you’re not…”

He grinned then, grabbed her by the butt and lifted her against him. She wrapped her legs around his hips, biting back a shriek of laughter.

“Okay then,” he said, walking them both toward the ensuite bathroom. “You mentioned something about inspecting the shower?”

He was snaking his hands up her shirt, undoing her bra, sliding his fingers down the waistband of her jeans, touching her everywhere, all at once, it seemed.

“I’m a tough critic,” she said, gasping as he set her onto the cold marble countertop. The bathroom mirrors reflected their nakedness, his skin against hers, their limbs intertwining.

“I know.” He reached into the shower and turned on the spray. “I’m not worried.”

‡