were lined up against the wall by the wide, king-sized bed.
Amy rubbed her hands over her arms and crossed to the dresser. She rifled through the contents of her purse, pulling out the crumpled divorce agreement and smoothing the creases.
The bathroom door opened and Logan exited, his bare feet whispering over the carpet as he crossed the room. He reached out, plucked the papers from her and flicked them down on the dresser.
“Come on.” His strong hand wrapped gently around her elbow, tugging her to the bathroom.
He’d discarded his shirt and the thick muscles of his bare back tightened with each of his movements. Amy swallowed hard. It was a physical reaction. Nothing more. She tried to convince herself she’d have the same response to any other well-built man she came across.
Logan stopped in front of the sink. He sifted through the medicine cabinet, retrieving alcohol wipes, fresh gauze and tape.
Amy flicked her eyes around the bathroom, trying to focus on anything other than the broad expanse of his chest. A sprinkling of dark hair arrowed down his abs toward unsnapped jeans hanging low on his lean hips.
Logan’s tanned hands gathered the hem of her sweater.
“I can do this myself,” she said, stilling his thick wrists.
“You can’t reach it properly.”
“Yes, I can. Clear out and I’ll take care of it.”
“Amy, it’s been a hell of a day. Just let me do this and let’s get some decent sleep. In a bed, this time.” He raised a brow and flashed a crooked grin. “Please.”
Her body sagged, his gentle expression melting her defenses. She raised her arms, squeezing her eyes shut as he lifted the sweater over her head and dropped it to the tiled floor.
“I swear, Amy, you’re about as hardheaded as those boys...”
She glanced up. His eyes clung to the ring dangling from her necklace and the strong column of his throat moved on a hard swallow.
Her face flamed. She should’ve taken it off long ago. Her hand shot to her chest, pressing over the metal. The stone cut into her palm.
“Logan—”
“Lean to the side,” he said, voice hoarse and strained.
She sighed and twisted to the side.
His broad hands moved slowly against her skin, peeling off the old bandage and sweeping an alcohol wipe across the wound. Amy winced at the sting. Logan lowered his dark head, blowing gently across the cut until she relaxed.
“There,” he whispered, pressing the last bit of tape over the gauze and a kiss to her rib cage.
Amy tucked her chin to her chest, cheeks burning under his scrutiny. “Thanks.”
Logan rose, running his hands along her sides. The heat from his sculpted abs and wide chest pulsed against her front. His fingers caressed her hips and tugged her closer.
She tensed her stomach, trying to ignore the warm flutters spreading beneath her skin, waiting for the moment to pass. It was a physical reaction, nothing more.
Logan’s calloused fingers slipped underneath the ring and lifted it.
“You still wear it,” he murmured.
Amy blinked, eyes tracing the gray grout outlining each of the square tiles on the floor.
“For how long?” he asked, tugging the ring. “Since you left?”
She looked up and nodded.
Logan’s brow creased. His dark eyes clung to hers. He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing, voice finally emerging in a choked rasp.
“There’ve been no other men?”
Amy cringed. She wished she could lie to him one more time. Tell him he no longer mattered to her. That what she’d felt for him had never been real. That she’d forgotten him long ago and fallen for another man along the way.
That would be enough for him to give in, give up on their marriage and let this go. Then she could move further into her new life. Away from her past sins and embarrassments.
Only, that’s how they’d ended up here to begin with. Her past lie still stood between them, casting a shadow and undermining his faith in her. She’d forced his hand back then and didn’t deserve his trust now.
Still, she wanted it. Even if she wasn’t worthy of it. Amy recoiled, feeling as small as Jayden. Wanting to do so much good and failing in every respect.
Logan’s face flushed, the redness flooding his lean cheeks and racing down his broad chest. The muscles in his abs rippled on an indrawn breath.
“Amy?”
A soft tremor shook his voice, highlighting the dark uncertainty in his eyes and deepening the lines of pain on his face.
Amy sighed, shoulders sagging. It was just as Cissy had said. There was never any winning with a Slade man. Especially Logan. He wouldn’t let this go. And she couldn’t lie to him again. Or to herself. No matter how much she wished she could. Like Jayden, she’d learned her lesson.
She closed her eyes, curled her fingers into his tousled hair and tugged him close. His forehead was warm against hers and she smoothed her palms down to cup his jaw, the only fair words there were leaving her. Honest ones.
“There are no other men, Logan. Not like you. They don’t exist.”
A strangled groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating against her lips as his mouth plundered hers. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders, bending beneath his tender advance.
She should stop him. Should finish this before it started. But the hard heat of his chest and the rough rasp of his stubble-lined cheek against her skin renewed old longings.
The longing to be seen by him. To be desired by him. To be loved by him.
His tongue parted her lips and his fingers pressed through the fall of her hair to knead the back of her neck. His hands slid down her back to cradle her bottom, lifting her and wrapping her legs around his waist.
Her chest swelled and a lick of heat curled low in her belly. His masculine scent and gentle touch enveloped her, permeating her senses and settling back into their rightful place in her heart. And, God help her, she’d had no idea how empty she’d been.
She hugged him closer as he carried her into the bedroom and tossed them both onto the bed, the plush bedding cushioning her back and his hard length spanning her front. The moist warmth of his mouth left hers to travel across her skin, lingering on her breasts, thighs and everywhere in between, dispensing with their clothes along the way.
Gasping, she nuzzled the hard curve of his bicep as he settled between her thighs. He pressed deep and a soft cry escaped her, body adjusting, remembering.
He murmured warm words of apology against her lips, then continued with
