the cottage, so the chance of anything happening without Logan’s knowledge was slim.
Eventually the light under Addison’s door disappeared, but that didn’t stop Logan’s gaze from wandering there every few minutes. This weekend would be torture. Bittersweet torture.
“Lucky you’re a natural-born masochist,” Logan muttered to himself.
After an hour of trying—and failing—to get any work done, he snapped his laptop shut in frustration. If he wasn’t going to be productive then he’d go to bed and attempt to sleep. A few hours of shut-eye might help his concentration.
“Yeah, ’cause sleep is the problem,” he grumbled as he walked past Addison’s door to the linen cupboard.
It was packed with clean sheets, towels and blankets and smelled musty in a way that brought a rush of memories to him. He’d come to this cottage often, spending Thanksgiving weekend with Daniel and Addison since his own father had made it clear he wasn’t welcome with the shiny new family he’d acquired. Those long weekends had been filled with fishing, eating and letting Addison beat him at poker until she got good enough that she whipped his ass all on her own.
His fingertips brushed a piece of floral fabric sandwiched between two plain blue sheets. The flowers had faces, but the pattern had faded over the years. Time, the cruel mistress that it was, had robbed them of their smiles.
A noise caused Logan to turn. He tiptoed to Addison’s door and pressed his ear to the wood. The muffled sobbing caused pain to wrench in his chest. He touched his palm to the door and sucked in a breath. What the hell was he supposed to do in this situation?
If Addison was in danger, he wouldn’t hesitate to act, because protecting her came second nature to him. But a tearful Addison was totally outside his experience. The only other time he’d seen her cry was at her father’s funeral...and look how that’d turned out.
He should walk away. Let her cry it out and emerge in the morning with her mask intact. Isn’t that what she’d want?
Walk away, you useless son of a bitch. Be a deserter. Isn’t that what you do best?
Logan gritted his teeth and eased the handle down on her bedroom door. The room was dark, with only a thin shaft of moonlight illuminating the bed. The cool bluish light showed the outline of her sleeping form. The curve of her hip and the gentle dip at her waist. The soft gleam of her blond hair.
“Addi?” He let the door shut behind him.
She was crying, more softly now. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could make out the tremble in her curled-up form. She was facing away from him, her body so small and vulnerable in the center of the large bed.
“Addi? Are you okay?”
She muttered something under her breath and then sighed, but he couldn’t make out the words. For years he’d teased her about the way she talked in her sleep—he’d witnessed it on the few occasions when she’d fallen asleep on his couch after having an argument with her dad. Sometimes it was a soft jumble of syllables and other times it was full sentences. Often the words had no meaning.
“Logan,” she sighed.
He tiptoed over to her bed and knelt on the mattress with one knee. Both her eyes were shut and her cheeks were damp with tears. The wet skin seemed to shimmer in the bright moonlight. But she slept on.
And dreamed about him, apparently.
He brushed his knuckles along her arm, his breath sticking in his throat when she shivered at his touch. Her body was covered by a white sheet, but a spaghetti-thin strap of black silk curved over her shoulder and a hint of lace peeked out from the top of the sheet.
Sweet mother of—
“Logan?” She shifted on the bed, her voice groggy.
“It’s just me, Addi. I heard you crying.” He brushed the hair away from her face.
“I was sleeping.”
“I didn’t mean to wake you. I came in to check that you were okay.” His heart thudded in his chest so hard it felt like the organ was trying to punch its way out of his rib cage.
“Oh?” She touched her fingers to her cheek. “I must have been dreaming.”
“I’ll let you sleep.” He pulled away, but she rolled and reached out for him. The movement caused the sheet to slip farther down, revealing a black silk camisole gleaming under the moonlight. The glossy fabric looked almost wet.
“Stay for a minute,” she said sleepily.
Maybe he was the one dreaming. Addison never asked him to stay with her for anything, not these days. The car accident must have shaken her worse than she’d let on.
“Lie with me. Just until I fall back to sleep.” She tugged him to her and he lowered himself onto the bed. “I had trouble drifting off before.”
Propping himself up on one elbow, he rubbed his hand up and down her arm. Her skin was clammy. Damp.
“Hmm.” She mumbled under her breath and turned so she was facing the wall again. “That’s nice.”
He tried to pull the sheet back up, but she swatted him away with a protest about being hot. Little did she know it was more for him than it was for her. The sight of her bare skin against the black silk was jacking up his pulse. Not to mention he was fighting off the beginnings of a rock-hard erection.
All you have to do is get her to drift off, then you can back away. Tomorrow, you’ll pretend you never came in here.
He kept a few inches between them as he lay down beside her, but she wriggled until her back lined his chest, the curve of her ass cradled perfectly in his lap. A jolt of arousal shot through him, but he held his breath and forced down the excitement. It was like trying to swallow a pill without water.
“What if you hadn’t followed me tonight?” she whispered groggily. “What would have happened if...if...”
A tremor ran through her body and he wrapped his arm around her, hugging her to his chest. “I’ll find this guy and take him down, I swear.”
“I want to take care of myself.”
He held his tongue. There was no point arguing with her now—he knew how she felt about being independent. About wanting to prove that she could handle things on her own. Of course, he disagreed. She wasn’t weak, far from it. In fact, Addison was the strongest person he knew. But she didn’t have his training, his experience.
Daniel had sheltered her from the ugly aspects of their world, and to the best of his ability, Logan would continue that. He could never lose her, never let anything happen to her. Because without her...well, he didn’t even want to think about a world where she wasn’t part of his life.
“I want to take care of you, for once.” Her whispered voice prickled at his resolve; it picked apart his defenses.
His brain scrambled to find the right thing to say, but that had never been his forte. Some guys had a knack for words; they knew how to seduce and influence and placate. But Logan was only good with his hands.
“Shhh.” He brushed her hair back, smoothing his fingertips over her temple with each stroke. “You need to sleep now.”
For a moment he thought she’d drifted off; her breathing became soft and her body seemed to melt against his. He’d been holding himself in check but the slight shift of her body, the gentlest brush of her ass against his lap, yanked open the floodgates. His cock leaped from half-mast to full attention and a groan stuck in his throat.
As he was about to extricate himself from her bed, she moved again. This time he realized it was on purpose, and knowing that made him even harder. His brain screamed at him to go, but she felt so damn good in his arms. Soft yet firm, silky smooth. So tempting.
“Logan,” she breathed, rolling her head back against his chest. Her hand slipped