Walk Through Fire (Page 90)

And he decided he liked it.

Because Millie did.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Folded in the Arms of Chaos

Millie

MY ALARM CLOCK went off, and I untangled myself from Logan just enough to reach out a hand to hit snooze as Logan muttered, “Jesus, what the fuck is that?”

I was too sleepy to laugh out loud but I still found that hilarious.

When my man was a recruit for the Club, he had duties that he was assigned, so he was up and at them even before I had to get up to go to school.

After he’d been initiated, when any duties he was assigned happened at night, he hated the alarm clock that I still had to use to get up for school. Told me he hoped there was a time in our lives we could toss it.

I suspected since then and now, he’d tossed it.

I rolled back into him. “Alarm clock, Snooks. I gotta get up and face the day.”

I didn’t want to. Like yesterday, I wanted to stay tangled up in Logan in as many ways as I could.

But we’d gotten partly back to life yesterday.

At first, it had freaked me out, Logan leaving to get groceries, me facing my desk.

In the end, it was good because it was normal.

But mostly because we did what we had to do separately, then he came back.

Furthermore, this was it. We had to face the new us.

I had to work. Logan had to look after his girls and do… Logan things. We had to sort out life so we could go forward with it, together.

Unfortunately, starting now.

He lifted up, then collapsed back, wrapping me closer and muttering, “It’s fuckin’ five forty-five.”

“I have a lot to catch up on and I work at home, essentially. But I always hit my desk like I’m going to work because it puts you in the right mind-set and you never know what’s going to happen. So I have a lot of prep work to do before I go to the office.”

He rolled into me, stating, “You can start later.”

I slid my hands to his shoulders and held firm there as I replied, “By prep work, I mean breakfast. Shower. Full makeup. The hair shebang. That kinda thing. And that kinda thing takes time.”

His lips hit the hinge of my jaw, slid down, where he murmured, “You can start later.”

I had felt warm. I had felt snuggly.

Now I felt tingles.

So I decided that I’d take breakfast to my desk. I’d also just blow out the top of my hair and let the rest air dry, then put it up in a ponytail.

That would give me time.

And if it wasn’t enough, I’d find other things to cut out.

So I slid my arms around his shoulders and dipped my chin to communicate what I wanted.

Logan gave it to me, lifting his head and taking my mouth with his own.

And it was on.

Eight minutes into it, the alarm sounded.

Logan reached out, grabbed hold of the clock, gave it a vicious yank, ignored my surprised, irritated gasp, and tossed the clock to the floor.

“Logan!” I snapped.

He didn’t reply.

He kissed me.

Okay.

Well.

Whatever.

I could plug it in again later (if it still worked).

Right then, I planted a foot in the bed, rolled my man, and went at him.

In the end, it was worth air-dried hair.

Absolutely.

*  *  *

I sat at my desk in a russet tweed pencil skirt, a wheat-colored cashmere turtleneck, and spike-heeled, glossy, dark brown boots, and I turned from my computer to reach out for my mug of coffee.

I did this grinning uncontrollably.

I was grinning not because I had less email to cope with than expected since I’d mostly stayed on top of that in Paris. I was also not doing it because Claire had dealt with any mail that needed immediate attention, so all the rest took little time to finish sorting through. Nor was I doing it because I had very few phone calls to return.

I did it because getting back to life with Logan had perks I wasn’t expecting.

These included me putting on makeup and doing my hair, then discovering while I did that that he’d shoveled what was left of the melting snow in the courtyard so I could walk to my office in my fancy boots without ruining them, slipping and falling, or having to delay putting them on so I could tug on my Wellies and shovel it myself.

He also went to my studio, turned up the heat, and started a pot of coffee so it was toasty warm and I had caffeine at the ready when I finally made it to my desk, unlike my old normal when I’d freeze for the first half hour and be delayed in getting to work in order to make coffee.

Sure, the coffee bit only saved me five minutes.

But it saved me five minutes.

More, I got to stand at my back door making out with Logan before I hit my desk and he went to his truck to go off and face his day.

We did this not only kissing but also making plans.

He was going to ask a brother to help him get my car back to me. He was also going to be picking up his girls from school, hanging with them after, taking them to dinner, but he was coming back to me when he was done.

So he’d see me when he brought back my car.

And I’d see him when he came back after dinner.

Then I’d have him. I’d sleep with him again. I’d wake up with him. I’d more than likely make love with him.

Rinse with sleep.

Then repeat.

Hopefully forever.

That did not suck.

So I was grinning.

Oh yes, I was grinning.

I took a sip of coffee, put the mug back, and grabbed the phone on my desk to do what was next up on my to-do list.

I had a meeting with Claire that afternoon to debrief on what transpired while I was gone and plan what was happening in the future. I also needed to share with her I wasn’t selling out and leaving.