by Noelle Adams
“Nope.”
“Logan, this is killing you.”
“Whatever.”
“So you’re going the denial route.” Rick tapped his fingers on his beer bottle. “That’s not going to get her back.”
“Screw that,” Logan growled. “I did nothing wrong.” Small comfort. He hadn’t come home last night because he couldn’t handle sleeping in his bed without her.
“It’s no way to live, Logan.”
Existing was a better description. The thought of going through the rest of his life without Allison amounted to a living hell. His eyes stung hotly. He blinked, took a long pull of his beer. His favorite seasonal brew and he barely even tasted it.
“Nothing makes sense without her,” Logan admitted. “I don’t know. I guess somehow she thinks by putting a guard on her, I was smothering her, or something. Oh, and all I care about is the baby.”
“If you and Allison went back as far as you and I do, she’d know better.”
“Well, we don’t. And she doesn’t know. It’s not about the baby—I mean, it is. Of course it is. But it’s not only about the baby, never has been. I wanted her in my life before she got pregnant.”
“Have you told her that?”
“I think so.” Logan slapped his palms on the granite counter. “I don’t know. You think you’re doing things right until she tells you you’re not.”
“Welcome to the rodeo. Step right up, you’ve got yourself a permanent front row seat.”
“Can I get a refund?”
Rick chuckled. “Doesn’t work like that, man.”
“She talked about needing to compromise. Then she accused me of stifling her, keeping her caged. What the hell?”
“I’ll interpret. Compromise means meeting her halfway, each person gives one-hundred percent. Not one person giving fifty-percent and the other giving one-fifty. Without balance, the whole thing collapses.”
“Yeah, she mentioned something about balance,” Logan muttered. “And then I opened my big mouth and accused her of running like she always does.”
“Ouch.”
“Not my finest moment, but I was right.”
“That keeping you warm at night?”
“No. Asshole.”
“There’s more to life than being right.”
Logan shook his head. “I can’t figure out why she’s so mad at me for protecting her.”
“Women are funny that way. They want the big, strong, macho type. But they also want us to go against those instincts and give them their single-girl independence, too. A fine line to walk. Not for the faint of heart.”
“I guess I failed. She’s gone.” Logan drained his beer in three chugs.
Rick pulled a Swiss Army knife from his pocket, went to the fridge and cracked open two more bottles. “What can you do to change that?”
“No clue.”
“There’s got to be something. And it needs to be big enough to take her trigger finger off her usual coping mechanism. You need to convince her to stay instead of run.”
Logan accepted the beer Rick handed him. “There may be one thing, though I don’t know if I can do it.” He thought for a long moment. “What sent her over the edge was finding out about the detail following her.”
“Oh, man. You didn’t tell her up front?” When Logan shook his head, Rick went silent. Logan’s thoughts twisted into a thousand knots. Then Rick spoke quietly. “Put yourself in her place. She has this brutal run-in with her ex, who’s notorious for lying, manipulating and stalking her. Then you do the same type of thing by getting one of your guys to spy on her.”
“It’s not the same thing,” Logan denied fiercely.
“In her mind it is. She trusted you to take care of her. You went a step further. A step she wasn’t prepared to handle.”
“That step saved her life.”
“At what cost to your relationship?”
Logan cursed, raking a hand through his hair. “You know the authorities haven’t found Trevor yet.”
“You have more to prove to her than him.”
After a ferocious internal debate, he finally picked up his phone. “David, hey it’s Logan. Operation Allison is over.”
After he hung up, he stared at his phone. “I hope I don’t regret that.”
“If it proves you’re willing to meet her part-way, and it gets Allison back, I don’t see how you could.”
Logan had never experienced this level of anxiety knifing through him. But he’d made the choice, the step. For her. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
***
When Allison woke Saturday morning, she felt groggy and out of sorts. She hadn’t slept well Thursday night or last night, and it was taking a toll. Hoping a shower might lift her mood she put her feet into slippers, slid on a robe and meandered down the hall to Devon’s guest bath.
It was strange, getting used to this new awareness of her pelvis. She’d “popped” a little, as Devon termed it. There was a little bulge in her abdomen now. She was happy to see proof of the small being growing inside her. She and Devon had Googled Stages of Fetal Development. She’d spent awe-inspiring hours reading articles and gazing at pictures online of a baby’s growth from conception to birth. At ten weeks, her child was the size of a corn nut, Devon determined, yet had already developed all its internal organs, fingers, fingerprints and toes. And somewhere in there, a tiny heartbeat pulsed with life. Hope. Promise.
Wistful, she let the hot water pelt her skin as she showered. She missed the master bath spa at Logan’s. How he often followed her into the shower. She’d enjoyed watching soap suds skim down his hard body. She remembered how good it felt when he massaged her with exfoliating scrub, caressing from her neck to her toes.
Before the two weeks he’d confined her and lorded over her every move. Before she’d discovered the secret he’d kept from her. Before he told her to never come back.
With a heart-heavy sigh, she stepped from the shower and toweled dry then hauled on a black sweater and a pair of jeans. The jeans were a bit snug. But she wasn’t about to go to Logan’s and grab a change a clothes. It would be too hard to leave again, and insulting to his insistence she not return. Unlike him, she respected people’s needs and boundaries.
She should probably think about where to go next. The idea of returning to her former dingy apartment made her stomach turn. She didn’t want to live in those conditions with her baby’s health and safety her foremost concern. And she wanted to stay in Denver, despite the high cost of living and her aversion to staying in one place. Trevor was already here, and the authorities would catch him sooner or later.
She’d finally made friends, carved out a life for herself here. The first and only place she’d ever considered home.
“Hey, early bird.” Devon’s voice filled the hall. “What are you doing up? It’s Saturday.”
Allison paused at the top of the staircase. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Again?”
She nodded. “I’m going down to make coffee.”
“You have the best ideas. I’ll be down in a bit.”
Some of Allison’s ideas were better than others. She was regretting packing her bags so impulsively. The last thing Logan had said before their blowout was Allison, we need to talk. Maybe she should’ve let him, before she walked away. But the realization of what he’d done behind her back, and her panic attack, had been too much to handle. She’d needed space. Or so she’d thought. Maybe what she needed to do was to stick around, and attempt to work it out.
Logan had been right. She was running again. And he’d run out of patience. She didn’t blamed him. She was too good at leaving, and no good when it came to staying. A relationship wasn’t something she could check in and out of, like a hotel.
It was a commitment. Something worth working for, fighting for, and treasuring all the good times that got a couple through the tougher moments.
Instead of trying for something better than what she’d known before, she’d ta
ken the path of escape. No wonder Logan told her never to come back. She brushed away the dampness trembling on her lashes.
As she filled the coffee carafe with water, she stared out Devon’s kitchen window. It was a bright sunny day. Most of the recent snowfall had melted. She liked that about Denver. The snow came hard but didn’t linger long, and most days she woke to blue skies and sunshine. She adored this city. She didn’t want to move again. This was where she’d started over. A new job, a new city, a new life, new friends, new passion, new baby, new love.
The carafe slipped from her hand, clanking against the sink. Water spilled over her fingers and her lips parted. A terrifying combination of hope and need filled her. Yes, she had found love here.
I love Logan.
Her heart skipped a beat. Her hands trembled with piercing recognition.
The truth surrounded her, beckoning her to surrender to the emotion. To shatter her own defenses and finally accept the love she felt for the best man she’d ever known.
“I’m in love with him.” The words rolled off her tongue as if they’d always been there, waiting to be spoken. No second-guessing or denial. It was totally unexpected and absolutely amazing.
“What are you staring at?” Devon stood beside her at the sink and peered out the window. “Oh, how about that. He’s gone.”
“Who?”
“Your watchdog.” When Allison looked at her blankly, Devon stated, “The guy Logan sent to guard you. His car isn’t outside my house anymore.”
Allison parted the blinds. Sure enough, the unmarked car with tinted windows was nowhere in sight.
A giddy feeling washed over her. She abandoned coffee making and rushed out to the front stoop. She glanced up and down the street. No sign of the watcher.
Devon poked her head out the door. “This is a good sign, because after he left the military, Logan forgot how to follow anyone’s orders but his own. Even when his brilliant chief information officer tells him he can’t do something.”
Allison hesitated. “I need more convincing.” She returned inside the warmth of the house. “I think we should take Peanut for a walk, just to make sure.”
At the magic word, Devon’s little Yorkie dashed into the room barking like crazy. Devon sighed. “A walk, it is.”
After bundling up, they strolled the crisscrossing side streets of Devon’s neighborhood. Peanut lifted his leg and marked every single tree and telephone pole they encountered, then trotted happily toward his next vertical conquest.
“Men.” Devon rolled her eyes. “I swear it’s in their DNA.” Peanut caught sight of a new tree and dragged them toward it. “This is mine. This is mine. Oh, and that’s mine, too,” she remarked with amusement, personifying the male psyche,
Allison grinned. “So true.”
When Peanut finally ran out of marking material and got bored with the scenery, Allison was more than satisfied. No one was watching her.
“What if Logan called off his guard because I’m a waste of time?” She had never imagined feeling let down by Logan’s lack of possessiveness, but it made sense. She’d walked out on him. He might’ve decided to retract any ties they had.
“Doubt it. You’re the mother of his child.”
“Good point.” Logan wouldn’t relieve his standin bodyguard if he only cared about the baby. “Maybe he’s seen the light.”
That hope hounded her the whole afternoon. What if he was willing to make up? What if they still stood a chance at reconciling their differences, and making a future together?
At eight o’clock, Devon appeared downstairs wearing a slinky black dress. Allison tore herself away from the laptop, where she’d been researching the likelihood of couples who were drawn together by a pregnancy to last a lifetime. “What’s on your calendar that’s got you all gorgeous?”
Devon glanced at the floor. “I didn’t want to say anything before. You and Logan’s fate hanging in the balance, and all.”
“I definitely don’t feel like going out. So where are you heading tonight?”
It was the first time she ever saw Devon blush. “On a date.”
Allison abandoned the computer. “Who is he?”
Devon picked at the sequins of her black purse. “Just this guy I’ve been talking to online.”
“Is he hot?”
“He sounds like it, but I’m not totally sure.” Apparently expecting Allison’s concern, Devon quickly replied, “We’ve been talking for weeks through this dating site.” Her cheeks splashed with pink. “He seems like a good fit for me.”
“You should’ve told me.” Allison stood and hugged her friend. “I can go somewhere else if you want your place to yourself.”
“If it goes that well, we won’t make it back to my place.”
“You go girl.” Allison gave her a hug and shooed her out the door.
Devon climbed into her Prius and zipped off down the street toward her date. Allison appreciated her friend’s consideration, not wanting to rub her big night in Allison’s face. While Allison hung out alone, watching lame TV, wishing she was with Logan.
Without thinking, she reached for her cell phone. Pulled up Logan’s number. She didn’t mean to hit send. She waited, anxious, hoping he picked up the call.
“This is Logan Stone of Stone Security. I’m unavailable to take your call now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.” Beep.
Logan was never unavailable. Apparently, she was the exception now. Her heart broke into pieces like a sailboat thrown against a cliff by a hurricane. She hung up. He really didn’t want her back in his life.
I’m not going to cry. I’m not going to cry. Her chin wobbled.
She’d get through this. On her own. Like she always had.
France was still an option. Not the one she wanted anymore, but the option she’d take if Logan didn’t want to be a part of her and her baby’s life. It just didn’t make sense, though. She agreed with Devon. Logan might turn his back on her, but would he do the same to his own child out of spite?
Never.
She released a trembling sigh. Before leaving, she’d told him they needed time to think about what the future held for them.
Now, she didn’t want time. She wanted Logan. Except she was unsure how to reclaim what they’d had. Her ex-husband might not be entirely to blame for her shaky relationship with Logan, but his reappearance and the destruction that came along with him hurled her into a new depth of loathing for Trevor. She missed Logan, and finally appreciated the lengths he’d gone to ensure her safety.
Thirty minutes later, Devon’s house phone rang.
Allison leaped off the couch. “Hello?” she said breathlessly, praying it was Logan.
“Come out of the house, Allie.”
The air sucked out of her lungs until she gasped. “Trevor.” Revulsion surged up her throat. “You have no right to call me.”
“If you don’t get your ass out here in ten seconds, Devon is a dead woman.”
The air froze in her lungs. “How did you get to her?”
“I’m giving you an order, wife.”
A sickening thought sent a shudder through her. Had Trevor posed as Devon’s “dreamy” date? She wouldn’t put it past him. This defied the boundaries of manipulation, bordering on horror.
“I have Devon in the back of my van. Come out slowly. No phone. No weapons. Or I pump her full of lead.”
“Oh, my God.” The phone slipped from her weak grasp.
“Do you hear me? If you hang up on me, Devon will be dead, and it’s your fault.”
Frozen needles prickled over her skin. She’d never let Trevor slaughter an innocent person. She grabbed the phone, struggling for inner strength. “I’m here.”
Instinct screamed not to leave the house, but she had no choice. She’d go to him for now. Then she’d find a way to run. She was good at that, she thought in quiet agony.
Leaving everything behind, possibly for the last time, she forced her gelatin legs to walk. Through
the kitchen, the living room, the front door. She didn’t dare grab a coat. One second could be life or death for Devon.
Tears streamed down her face like hot liquid fear. “Okay, Trevor. I’m coming out.”
***
Rick tried to invite himself over again Saturday. Logan was less tolerant tonight. He ignored Rick and worked through the evening in peace and quiet.
When streetlights below flickered on, he stretched and cracked his neck. Then he realized why he’d experienced no interruptions. Engrossed with work, avoiding his emotions, he hadn’t noticed his phone was dead. He couldn’t find the charger that plugged into his computer’s USB port. Annoyed, he shut his computer down, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep. He trudged down to his parking space. As he pulled out of the Stone Security garage, he stopped at a red light. He used his car charger to juice up his phone.
Within minutes his phone chirped alerting him to a dozen missed calls. He drove through downtown and scrolled through the list. He flipped through quickly, ignoring the messages. Until he saw Allison’s number pop up on his screen. He instantly dialed voice mail, deleting every message until he found the one he wanted. His heart started racing. He licked his dry lips.
But when the message came through, all he got was a pause, then a dial tone.
“Damn it,” he snarled.
He threw the phone onto the passenger seat. His fingers clenched and unclenched the steering wheel. Wasn’t he worth a message? A word? A sigh? Anything except getting hung up on?
It had to be Allison. Devon would’ve used her own cell phone to call him. She also would’ve left a message. He punched the ceiling and released a curse of frustration.
Then he remembered something. Devon had mentioned a date Saturday night—tonight. The first guy she’d gone out with in a long time. Logan had teased her about it, naturally. Devon was like one of the guys. She’d actually blushed, like she was into this one. Said they’d been talking online for a couple weeks. Then Logan had gone all big brother on her and drilled her: did she have pepper spray? A weapon? A condom? The important things a woman should carry on her when she met a guy for the first time.
For Logan, the excuse was too good to pass up. He retrieved his phone and called Devon’s house. Hoped Allison would answer. The phone rang and rang. Strange. He tried Devon’s cell. It rolled directly over to voice mail.
