Logan (Blue Halo Book 1)

Logan hung up the phone. Leaning back in his seat, he replayed Steve’s words in his head, allowing a tendril of hope to unfurl.

There’d been a sighting of Beau Prater. The asshole had been caught on video surveillance at a gas station on the outskirts of Jerome.

So he wasn’t in Ketchum, but he was in Idaho. Still close.

Logan blew out a long breath. He needed to call Tyler and Liam. Send them out to search the small town. Prater probably knew that airlines were being watched, so he’d likely be driving wherever he needed to go.

They would catch him. There was no way Logan was letting those lowlife scumbags continue to run their sex trafficking ring. And if they were close to Cradle Mountain because they wanted the women that Logan’s team had rescued back under their control, there was no way in hell that was happening either.

Darting his gaze to the time on his laptop, Logan sighed, closing it. Five-thirty. Time to go.

He’d been trying to leave the office a little earlier lately. The earlier he left, the more time he had with Grace. There was just something about her that pulled him in. It might be her quiet resilience. Or the way her eyes lit up just before she smiled. Or maybe it was that when he talked, she really listened, genuine empathy in her gaze.

Hell, it was probably all of it.

When he was with her, it was a battle to keep himself from touching her. A battle he often lost. The need to kiss her again damn near tortured him.

A few days had passed since the accident. They still hadn’t found out who’d been driving the green Honda. It had to be one of those damn reporters. When he found the asshole responsible, he’d be making sure the guy not only left Cradle Mountain, but that he knew he wasn’t welcome to return.

Logan pushed to his feet. When footsteps sounded from beyond the Blue Halo offices, he paused. A woman’s steps. Her heels clicked against the wooden staircase in light succession. The door to Blue Halo creaked as it was pushed open. Logan remained where he was, listening. Would she stop at the reception desk? Or would she continue further into the building?

When the clicking of her heels continued down the hall, Logan’s brows pulled together. Who the hell was this woman and where did she get the balls to just come straight in?

He didn’t have to wonder for long. A second later, Nicole Fleece stepped into view from outside his office, only stopping once she stood on the other side of his desk.

“Good evening, Logan. I almost thought I’d missed everyone.”

“And yet you still waltzed right in.”

One of her perfectly manicured brows rose. “An unlocked business door usually means the public is welcome.”

“You are neither public, nor welcome.” And the woman knew it. “You’re media. Now leave.”

Rather than turning, she lowered into the seat opposite his desk, bag dropping to the floor with a resounding thud. “I’m here to negotiate with you.”

“Why the hell would I negotiate with a reporter, especially one I’ve been telling to leave town since she got here?”

“Because you want to hear what I have to say.”

Doubtful. He was just eyeing the door again when she indicated to his seat with a nod of her head. “Please, sit, Logan. I’ll hurt my neck having to look up to meet your gaze.”

If she thought he cared about that, she clearly had an inflated view of his concern for her. But the woman obviously wasn’t going anywhere, so unless he planned to physically carry her out of the office, he was stuck.

He lowered slowly. “You have five minutes. No more.”

“Wouldn’t want to keep Grace waiting, would we? I’m actually surprised you forgave her after outing you the way she did.”

Outwardly, Logan didn’t react at all, every muscle remained perfectly still. Internally, he rebelled against Grace being brought up. He wanted her kept firmly out of anything to do with this woman.

“I’m not discussing Grace. So, if that’s why you’re here, you should walk right back out.”

Nicole gave him a smile that was as fake as her tan. “I’ve been watching her. She seems like a good person. I mean, you’ve forgiven her, so her ethics can’t be too skewed. Which raises the question, why would she have spoken to Phillip?”

Where was the woman going with this? “Because the guy’s an asshole and he threatened her.”

“I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but I met Phillip. A few times, actually. He was a good reporter. Great with research. That was his sword. Digging stuff up and using it against a subject. He would never stoop so low as to threaten someone with physical assault. He was smarter than that.” She tapped the side of her head. “No. He found something on her. Something so bad that she gave up information on you, to keep herself out of the public eye.”

Logan leaned forward, needing this woman to get to the goddamn point. “What do you want?”

“I want an inside story on your experience with Project Arma. I want to know everything, the good, the bad, and the ugly.”

He knew what she was going to say, but he asked anyway. “And if I say no?”

“I switch my focus. From you to Grace. I dig until I find out exactly what her secret is. Exactly what Phillip found. And I expose her.”

Logan breathed through his rage. It bounced off him like tiny sparks of electricity. The woman didn’t have a shred of compassion or boundaries. The idea of her anywhere near Grace’s business had his blood boiling.

“I want a signed contract that I see and approve the article before it’s published,” Logan said through gritted teeth. “And if there’s anything, even a single word, that I don’t like, it’s out.”

He’d do the stupid article if it meant saving Grace from this woman. But he’d give Nicole the information he chose to give.

She tilted her head to the side. “You don’t trust me, Mr. Snyder?”

“Not even a little.”

Her lips lifted at the corners. Yeah, she knew she’d won. “You’re not really in a position to choose here.”

“This is me being nice. The alternative is you stay, and I make your life a living hell.” Every damn day.

She didn’t look scared. Not one bit. “Lucky for you, I’m in a negotiating mood. Done. Do you need to run this by your team?”

“Yes. I’ll talk to them in the next few days and you can get the contract sorted.” Given the two choices, he was almost certain he knew what his team would choose. They were protectors, just like him. And besides, he only planned to give an inside look into his life in Project Arma. Not those of his brothers. That was the deal.

“Fine. I’ll call in a few days.” She stood. “I knew we could be adults about this.”

She turned and was almost at the door when Logan spoke. “Do me a favor and tell the others to leave.”

She looked back at him over her shoulder. “Others? You mean other reporters? Logan, I’m all that’s left. No one else has my grit or tenacity.”

Logan tried not to tense as Nicole made her way down the hall. That couldn’t be right. It had to be a reporter who had run Grace off the road.

Logan reached for his phone and sent a message to Wyatt. He hadn’t asked the man for help on this yet. Mostly because he’d thought the local police would find the dirtbag who’d run Grace into the pole. Days had passed, and they hadn’t. Logan was taking matters into his own hands.

Even though Wyatt lived in Marble Falls, he could still access street surveillance here in Cradle Mountain. Hopefully, the guy would be able to get a license plate on the green car.

Logan also sent a message to his team, asking for a meeting the next morning.

Rising from his chair, he headed out of the building and toward his car, wanting to get to Grace quickly, hating any time he was away from her after the crash. His house had great security, but still, him being there with her was the ultimate protection.

The second he pulled into his garage, he heard the music. And just under it, he heard the soft hum of her voice.

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders.

Grace loved music. He’d come to that realization after living with her for a single day. The soft lyrics sounded from the kitchen while she prepared food. From her bedroom while she got ready in the morning. It even played in the bathroom while she showered.

She didn’t seem to discriminate either. Every song was different. Different eras. Different genres.

Tonight was Michael Jackson’s “Man in the Mirror”.

Opening the door, he paused at the kitchen entrance, getting a perfect view of her swaying hips from behind. She was stirring whatever was in the pot on the stove while singing the words to the song in flawless harmony.

Fucking perfection.

He wanted to move across the room slowly. Surprise her by sliding his arms around her middle and nuzzling her neck. But he knew that sneaking up on the woman wasn’t a good idea. Instead, he cleared his throat.

Grace still jumped, but probably less so than if he’d suddenly been surrounding her.

She placed her hand to her chest. “Logan. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“That’s because I’m a ninja.” She chuckled as he began walking toward her slowly, closing the distance.

“You are. And it doesn’t help that I lose myself in the music sometimes.”

He wasn’t complaining. When he took the next step, he heard the slight increase in her heart rate. “I love that you love music so much.”

“I do.” Those two words came out quieter than her last.

“I missed you.”

Her eyes widened a fraction. “You did?”

He placed his hands lightly on her hips. “You sound surprised.”

“You saw me at lunch.”

He had. He’d brought over food from the diner in between her seeing patients. Jeez, he was becoming addicted to the woman. “I know. It’s been forever.” He studied her eyes. Then her lips. When her gaze shot to his lips too, a lightning bolt of awareness rushed through his system. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

A small tremble rocked her body. When her tongue poked out of her mouth and wet her lips, he almost groaned out loud.

“You should.”

Fuck, but those two words made him hard all over.

Sliding a hand into her hair, he tugged her head up, kissing her slowly. Swiping his lips across hers and pulling her hips into him.

He’d intended to stop there. One taste, then let her go. But she leaned into him. Pressed her chest against his, moaning deep in her throat.

Logan growled, swinging them around and lifting her onto the island. He paused for a moment, waiting to see if there was hesitation. Resistance of any kind.

There was none. Instead, she wrapped her legs around his waist, bringing him closer.

The fingers on her waist slid beneath the material of her shirt, stroking her soft skin.

Grace hummed.

Slowly, so slowly that she could stop him at any time, Logan slid his hand up, until his fingers closed around her breast.

There was the slightest pause.

He readied himself to move away—until she pressed her chest into his hand, her lips moving once more against his.

He massaged the soft mound, loving the soft groans of encouragement he received. As he shifted his hand to her other breast, he grazed across something…

Scarring. Etched into her otherwise smooth skin between her breasts.

Grace’s body stiffened before she took her lips from his and pushed him away.

“The sauce is bubbling,” she said quietly under her breath.

It wasn’t. But he let her go.

Another scar. He hadn’t forgotten the one he’d seen on her thigh. How had she gotten them? Who had inflicted them?

He wanted to know exactly what had happened to the beautiful, tortured woman in front of him. But with one look at her rigid spine, he knew he wasn’t going to. Not now, anyway.