Standing in the kitchen, he waited for the coffee to finish. He’d made a big pot, so it was taking longer.

A door opened, and, stiff, Logan walked to the end of the kitchen to see. But it was Dash. He had on jeans but hadn’t fastened them. After a quick look at Reese, Dash asked quietly, “Coffee?”

“Should be done soon.”

“Thanks.” Dash went on into the bathroom, then joined Logan a minute later. He leaned back on the counter, crossed his arms and waited.

Now that he wasn’t caught up in the hottest lust imaginable, Logan knew that Dash and Reese had to be well aware of what had transpired last night. Hell, he could still remember how Pepper had tightened all around him, how wet she’d gotten, how hot.

Her raw, broken cries as she came.

How she’d held him as close as she could.

And then she’d left him.

The second the coffee finished brewing, Dash was on it. As he poured two cups, he said, “Okay, I know I’m up with the sun because that’s how it is in construction, and I’m a creature of habit. Work or not, I’m awake. What’s your excuse?”

Logan took his mug and went to the table to sit. “A shitload to do today.”

“Yeah, about that.” Dash pulled out a chair. “I wouldn’t mind a clue or two. Am I playing watchdog? Errand boy? What?”

“Probably all of the above.”

Another door creaked, and Pepper stepped out of her room. She looked first at Reese on the couch, then toward Logan and Dash. With no inflection whatsoever, she asked, “Coffee?”

Logan took in her disheveled hair, her heavy, sleepy eyes and her “just tumbled” appearance. He burned for her all over again. She was back to wearing just a T-shirt, and she had beautiful legs.

Legs that she’d wrapped around him while he rode her…

Dash said, “Just got done. Cream and sugar?”

“Please.” She yawned inelegantly and headed into the bathroom.

Dash prepared her cup of coffee, set it on the table and cleared his throat.

Logan was doing a good job of ignoring his brother when they both heard Reese get up. In his boxers, Reese started for the bathroom, but Dash said, “Occupied.”

That stymied Reese for a moment until he shrugged and stepped outside.

Pepper noticed the opened patio doors when she emerged. She looked at the couch again, found it empty and smirked.

Still without jeans, she came to the table and dropped into a chair. Head propped on a fist, she indicated the extra coffee mug. “Mine?”

Dash smiled at her. “Let me know if it’s okay.”

She sipped, sighed dramatically and said, “Perfection. Thanks.”

Even after Dash nudged him, Logan couldn’t stop staring at her. He hated it, the way she made him feel so f**king…lost. He was a man who liked to act, not wallow in indecision and confusion. He knew right from wrong, and he enforced it. He went after what he wanted, whether it was a woman or a criminal, physical or emotional.

With Pepper, he didn’t have a clue what to do.

Reese came in, saw her at the table, and sidetracked to the couch to get his pants. “Please tell me there’s coffee left.”

“Logan made a whole pot. Mugs are over the stove.” Dash nodded toward the kitchen. “I can put on more after we go through it.”

“Thanks.” Reese folded his blankets and put those with his pillow back in the closet before heading into the kitchen.

Pepper stared at the couch he’d just vacated, then turned to Dash. “Make your bed already?”

“Uh…” He shrugged. “Yeah.”

She rolled her eyes at Logan. “I know you already did.”

“Yes. But don’t worry about—”

“Be right back.” She scraped back her chair and disappeared into her room.

Reese came to the table with a cup of black coffee and a package of cookies. Minutes later when Pepper returned, he silently offered them to her.

She took two.

For some reason, even that turned him on. Shit. Logan turned to look out the window. Thick fog lifted off the lake, visible through the gray dawn. In another hour, the heat and humidity would be suffocating.

The table squeaked, and he turned to see Pepper carrying her cookies and coffee out to the deck.

“If Rowdy calls,” he said to Dash and Reese, “let me know.” He went after her.

Watching the sun creep over the hills, she sat on a dew-wet bench and sipped her coffee. The sunrise cut through the fog with blinding force, reflecting off the lake like colored glass.

Fuck it, Logan decided. He sat close beside her. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Not really, no.” She sipped her coffee and, voice thick, said, “I might take a nap on the dock today.”

“It’ll probably hit ninety.”

“I know.” As if a thousand conflicts didn’t exist between them, she smiled. “I always loved being outside. Even when the heat would chase everyone into the air-conditioning, I’d stay out and swim. Rowdy would harp at me about too much sun. Every time I turned around, he was trying to drag me into the shade. But it usually ended with him joining me.”

Not touching her cost Logan. It was like holding his breath or going hungry. “He loves you a lot.”

Her gaze drifted off to the lake. “The sunrise on the river is something to see, too. It colored our old rusted trailer and the carcasses of abandoned cars until they almost looked pretty.” She closed her eyes and put her face up to the sun. “That was the best time to fish—before anyone else got up. Near shore, you could see to the bottom. I learned to clean and cook fish when I was about seven.”




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