Command Control

“Thank you.” Logan heard the relief in Hunter’s voice. “We’re flying back this afternoon from Fort Campbell. We’ll meet you at the house.”

Logan ended the call and stood up. One night of sex that had made his fantasies come alive and now this. He left the bathroom, mentally running through the list of things he needed to do, including asking Aunt Lou to feed the herd and swinging by the bookstore to clean up dinner.

“Logan?” Sadie shifted to a seated position, the sheet wrapped around her naked body.

He went over to the bed and sat on the edge while he pulled on his shoes. “I need to go do a favor for a friend. I’ll be gone all day.”

Her brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?”

“It will be.” Standing, he leaned over and kissed her, a gentle brush of the lips as if it was routine. But it wasn’t, not by a long shot. What he had with Sadie existed apart from his day-to-day. She was all light, laughter and, after last night, the best sex of his life.

He pulled the bedroom door shut behind him. What would it feel like to make that wild, hopeful energy part of his world? To wake up feeling connected to another person again and again? Like a miracle. As if he’d hit the shore, left his grief floating in the water while he walked through paradise.

Except his past was like a weight, holding him in the ocean, threatening to drag him under. The monster in the sea? It was real and it was gunning for him. Only it wasn’t driven by his grief for Jane. His mistakes, the ones he wanted to put behind him, were catching up with him.

And after Hunter’s call, what had happened on his last mission wasn’t in the past. It was his present.

Logan walked down the front porch steps and headed for his truck. With each step, he felt as if he was breaking that connection he’d found with Sadie. But even if he could close the door on his grief and that screwed-up mission, the paradise he’d started fantasizing about—Sadie in his life and his bed—would only be possible when he was stateside.

He slammed the truck door. He could daydream all he wanted; this thing between them wouldn’t lead anywhere. Once he got back to work, they would go their separate ways. He wasn’

t dragging another woman into a life of constant deployments. He knew that was a one-way ticket to unhappiness and pain.

* * *

SADIE WATCHED LOGAN climb into his truck. He moved with purpose as if 100 percent focused on getting out of here. He wasn’t running from her. Logically, she knew the phone call had propelled him into motion. But doubt lingered.

Was binding him to the bedposts with pink ribbons too much? Probably. Either way she refused to spend the day at the window, watching and waiting. She got dressed, laced up her sneakers and walked to Laurel’s house. Her sister was home from the hospital and Sadie was in Vermont to help.

When she reached Laurel’s back door, Sadie let herself in and followed the crying into the living room. Her twin stood by the front window rocking back and forth, the baby in her arms, wailing.

“Need a hand?” Sadie asked.

“Thank God you’re here.” Laurel turned around. “I need sleep. Here.”

Sadie took the swaddled newborn, cradling her like she might break into pieces if she wasn’t gentle. Lacey, her tiny little niece, screamed louder.

“She doesn’t cry if you walk in circles,” Laurel said. “But I’m too tired to keep walking. She’s been fed. Wake me in an hour and I’ll nurse her again.”

Hours later, Sadie felt like she was endurance-training, not babysitting. But the baby was finally quiet. Lacey had even closed her eyes for a while, but woken up the minute Sadie stopped walking. Sadie had learned her lesson. No stopping except when it was time for Laurel to nurse the baby.

She walked around the couch, past her cell phone resting on the coffee table. No missed calls. Not a single text message all day. Outside, the sun was starting to sink behind the Green Mountains. It wouldn’t be dark for hours, but still, the entire day had passed and he hadn’t called.

“He said all day, but I don’t know if that means he’ll be back for dinner.” Her niece’s big gray eyes stared up at Sadie. “Or after dinner. For bedtime. I guess I assumed we’d be spending the next few nights together. A fling is longer than one night. But maybe that was enough for him. Maybe that was all he could handle. Still, he went to a lot of trouble—dinner in a closed bookstore—for something that was pretty much a given.”

Sadie looped past the table again. No texts. No missed calls.

“Stop looking at your phone. You’re going to give my daughter a complex.” Laurel stood in the doorway, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Her hair was wet and she’d put on clean pajamas.

“You look better,” Sadie said. “Refreshed.”

“I wanted to stay in that shower forever, but I figured you needed a break. Go home. Write. Get some sleep. He’ll either call or he won’t.”

“I think I might have blown it. Pushed him too far for his first time after losing his wife.”

“You can’t blow a fling.” Laurel took the baby from her arms. “It might end a little early, but it is going to end eventually. Right?”

Sadie nodded. “Yes.”