Indestructible

“Nope, I’m hungry. Uncle Jax can’t cook.” He stepped back, looking up at his uncle.

Jax snorted. “I don’t need to cook. Plenty of women are willing to do it for me.” He cocked a brow at me, his eyes filled with humor.

I shook my head, ignoring the jab. “I made dinner if you want to come over,” I said directly to Oliver and Oliver alone. “Is your daddy here?”

Jax spoke up before Oliver could. “He’s busy, but lucky for you I’m free and have no problem taking his place for a meal.”

I stepped farther inside, unwinding my scarf and opening my jacket. “Fine, you’re invited, but not in Logan’s place. Where is he, anyway? It’s after seven.” It wasn’t like him to not have dinner ready for Oliver by six. Something was definitely up.

“His office, but I’d leave him be for a bit,” Jax said, eerily serious.

“Everything okay?” I asked, my body tensing.

“As much as you may think I’m a prick, I’ll prove you wrong today and leave things for Logan to tell you.”

That didn’t sound good, but with Oliver standing between us I didn’t press for any further information.

“I’ll get Oliver bundled up. Hurry, we’re starved. No dilly-dallying upstairs!” Playful Jax was back, grabbing Oliver’s coat from the closet.

I made my way up the stairs to Logan’s office, worrying myself over the unknown. Was someone hurt? Was it about Caleb, or Hilary? That thought alone was too overwhelming to bear.

The door to Logan’s office was open, so I walked in. He stood behind his desk, phone in hand, looking down at nothing.

“Hey,” I said, almost in a whisper. The thick air crackled around us.

Logan raised his head, set the phone on his desk, and walked across the room. I met him halfway, where he hauled me into his arms, holding me close. He exhaled, his body wound tightly with tension so tangible I could feel it radiating off him.

“Hey,” he finally husked.

I pulled back and cupped his face. His usually vibrant blue eyes were hooded and tired.

“Everything okay? I made dinner. Jax is downstairs getting Oliver ready to come over.”

His hands loosened around my waist. “Sorry sweetheart. I’m gonna need a rain check on that one.”

I nodded gingerly. “Talk to me.”

He held my gaze for a moment before releasing a sigh and stepping backward toward his desk. “Kurt died last night.”

My hands flew to my mouth. “Oh my God.” I couldn’t breathe. I could barely speak, my words shooting out in gasped syllables. “What? How?”

“Waiting on the autopsy. They suspect he was drugged.”

My head throbbed. Kurt was dead and never coming back. No trial to suffer through. No fear about his release. He was…dead.

“Did you…?” It came out before I could stop myself. I dropped my head, ashamed I’d even allowed it to slip out.

“No, I had nothing to do with it.” His voice was strong—honest. I peered back up, watching him stand there regarding me with a new intensity.

“I don’t understand. Then who?” I said, more calmly than I’d expected.

Logan held out his hand and guided me to his colossal leather chair. I sat, despite the rigidity in my limbs.

“They’re looking into every possible lead. Your mother came by Saturday night to tell me Kurt was in the infirmary, but she didn’t have any facts then—just that they suspected foul play.”

My neck craned his way. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning?”

“Because I didn’t think it was serious. Besides, I had nothing to do with it, so it seemed insignificant.” Agitation edged his tone. “Honestly, I figured the fucker would live.”

My head bobbed in understanding. “That’s why the sheriff was here—to tell you?”

Logan rubbed his jaw and sighed. “Not exactly. Like I said, they’re looking into every possible suspect.”

“Suspect? They think you—?”My head fell back, eyes slamming shut at the sting of tears. “I can’t believe this. They really think you had something to do with murdering someone?”

He moved closer, dropping to his haunches in front of me. He pried my hands free from the arms of the chair and held them in his. “They’re just trying to look productive. They don’t have any reliable leads right now—only gossip.”

“Logan—”

“I didn’t do this.” His voice was a powerful, definitive growl. “But I’m not sorry he’s dead. The only reason the sheriff’s looking at me is because of Kurt’s cellmate, who gave a statement this morning filled with hearsay and lies.”

My tears fell. Why was this happening to us?

“Listen to me, Cassandra: This is all going to go away. You understand me?”

“You don’t know that,” I mumbled between sobs. “What if they arrest you, Logan? What if—”

His mouth crushed mine, hot and demanding, silencing me with his tongue. His strong fingers skimmed up my neck, capturing my chin.

When he finally broke the kiss, my tears lingered over both our lips. I felt utterly hopeless.

“Trust me. I’m not going anywhere. I promise you that.”

The conviction in his words settled my anxiety, and the ferocious look in his eyes demanded I trust him. So I did, letting the subject drop.

“Okay, well then come have dinner with us.”

His mouth slanted over my lips once more in a tender, quick peck. “I wish I could, but I need to make a few calls and then go down to Haven and make sure everything’s running smoothly. Been having a few problems without Caleb at the helm.”

He went to stand, bending back down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Can you tell Jax to make sure Oliver gets his bath after he eats? I’ll be back in time to tuck him in.”

“Of course,” I said, my voice weak.

“How about, after everything is settled, I sneak over to tuck you in as well?”

And there it was: that ravenous look paired with his throaty timbre, full of delicious possibilities. It had a miraculous way of weakening every worry I held.

My lips curled upward. “I may be hard to rouse. You sure you can find some…new method?”

“I’m always up for a challenge—especially when it involves you.”

He was still standing directly in front of me. My fingers danced up his thighs, his erection tenting his slacks inches from my face. I sat up straighter.

“Then stop over.” I cupped his bulge. “I won’t kick you out.”

He reached down, gripped my shoulders, and pulled me up flush against him. His arms snaked around my waist, settling on my ass and grasping it with greedy hands. “I wouldn’t let you anyway, and you know it.”

“I do.”

The phone rang, interrupting our moment. It was probably for the best, since I had two hungry West guys waiting downstairs for me. Logan answered the phone; he’d obviously been expecting the call.

“Hold on a minute,” he said into the receiver before covering it with his hand and claiming one final kiss from me.

“I’ll see you later tonight,” he murmured.