Run the Risk

He waited for her to remove her clothes.

Eyeing him, she held the shirt to her chest and chastised him with another indulgent smile. “You realize that hot stare is wasted. You’re in no shape to do anything.”

“I can hold you.” He patted the left side of the bed. “Right here.” He wanted to feel her heart beating with his. He wanted to breathe in her scent and listen to her sleeping. He wanted to tell her that no one and nothing could ever hurt her again—but in many ways, he was the one who’d hurt her the most.

Worry etched her brow. “What if I bump you in the night?”

Bumping he could take. Sleeping alone—no way. “I need to hold you.”

She said nothing, just stood there, his shirt in her hands, several feet from the bed.

He tried for patience, but it wasn’t easy when he so desperately wanted her beside him. “Are you hungry?”

“No. Dash got me a sandwich at the hospital.”

Thank God both his brother and hers had stuck around to keep her company until he’d finally been released. After dropping off clean clothes, Reese had joined Peterson in a sting against the traffickers.

“The master bath is through that door. There’s another in the hall if you want privacy.”

“It’s a nice house.”

A house she hadn’t even noticed as she’d hustled him through it and into bed. “Thank you.” He started to tell her that she could change anything she wanted, but maybe that’d be moving too fast for her. She needed time to acclimate to an entire transformation in her life.

“Rowdy will come by tomorrow.”

“He told me.” As soon as the hospital released him, Rowdy had taken off. Logan didn’t know where he’d go, and Pepper seemed to take it for granted that he’d do his own thing, in his own way.

Dash had driven them to Logan’s home, and Logan knew he’d wanted to hang around, but like Rowdy, he understood that Logan wanted time alone with Pepper. “If you’re worried about him—”

“Rowdy?” She shook her head. “No, that’s not what I’m worried about.”

He’d already shared Peterson’s report about the trafficking ring, so she knew that was over. And while they were both concerned for Alice, they had no influence there.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

She licked her lips. “I don’t have…anything.” As if they were a longtime couple, she stripped off her clothes without fanfare or modesty and pulled on the T-shirt.

Logan would never tire of looking at her. “What do you need?”

“Everything.” Warming to that subject, she explained, “What little I owned was in the apartment that burned down or at the warehouse, and now that the police know about it, they’ve taken it over, at least for now.”

So much had happened in the past twenty-four hours, he hadn’t thought that far ahead. “We can go shopping tomorrow.”

Absently, she said, “No, tomorrow you have to rest. The doctor said so.” She put her clothes on the chair with his. “I was trying to think about it, but…now that I don’t have to hide anymore, the list just keeps growing in my mind.”

Rowdy said he and Pepper had enough money to endure, but what did that mean? Logan wanted her to do more than endure—he wanted her to thrive.

With him.

She sat on the bed near his hip. “Everything is so different now.”

Logan couldn’t deny that. “I want it to be better.” He’d wanted that almost from the day he met her.

“We have money, you know. Rowdy’s always seen to that. And he probably has a car for me.” The corner of her mouth lifted. “He usually thinks of everything for me. But there’s no job, no home, no clothes or food or dishes or furniture.”

How unsettled must she feel? Logan needed to reassure her. He’d be happy if she moved in with him, if she let him take her shopping.

But how could he suggest that without insulting her independent nature or stepping on Rowdy’s toes?

She licked her lips. “The thing is, there’s no fear, either. No threat, no worry.” She inhaled. “And I hope no more…loneliness.”

A hint? God, he hoped so. “Do you think you can forgive me?”

As if he hadn’t spoken, she said, “I want to jog. God, I miss jogging.”

“As soon as I can, I’ll jog with you.”

With the softest expression he’d ever seen on a woman, she touched his wounded arm in a butterfly caress. “I want to go to movies and restaurants. Maybe the park. And the lake. I’d love to go swimming, boating, too.”

“I won’t be up for all that today, but tomorrow…” He shifted, felt the burn of his wound, and retreated. “Maybe day after tomorrow?”

She paused, a little self-conscious, and said in a barely-there whisper, “What if that bullet had struck a little higher?”

“It didn’t. It’s just my arm, and that will be fine soon enough.”

Her eyes went glassy; her lips trembled. “You could have been killed, Logan, and I…”

He took her hand and lowered it from his arm. If she cried, it  would kill him.

To distract her, he said, “Give me a few days, and I’ll do everything with you.”

“Everything, huh?” Her hand smoothed over his abdomen, making him twitchy. “There’s no more risk for me, you know.”