The Long Road Home (6 page)

Confident in the decision, his blue eyes found Gwen once more.

Chapter 10

Gwen felt Logan's stare and forced a teasing grin on her face. No sense in letting their limited time together turn sad and morose. They had one more day to enjoy and she would throw herself into each minute with enthusiasm.

Truth be told, despite the harsh conditions, she enjoyed herself far more than she expected. Logan's sense of humor meshed well with her own, a trait she recalled from their short time together before. They both had to return to the real world soon, but until then, she intended to have as much fun as possible. Maybe enough for a lifetime as Logan hadn't appeared too eager to stay with her during his rehab. The frown marring his face just a minute before didn't promise longevity between them, either.

When life gives you lemons…

Seizing hope in her mother's favorite phrase, Gwen kicked her sluggish mind into gear. "What to do with a sexy Adonis for the rest of the day?"

His eyebrows shot up before a slow smile replaced his unhappy expression.

Her face immediately heated, as she realized she'd spoken those words aloud. "Ummm."

"Sexy Adonis, huh?"

At least he seemed to perk right up. "Uh huh." She stepped forward and caught a glimpse out the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view shocked her. Power lines lay across streets even as more than one tree lay half on the ground, snapped under the weight of the frozen liquid. Not a single car moved along the side street, those parked looked like a mound of frozen sculpture. Ice covered everything in generous amounts. Even the blades of grass bore thick layers, making them look like clear spikes sticking out of the ground. As far as she could see, no lights were on, just dreary clouds and a busy city locked in.

"Pretty. Brutal but pretty." Logan ambled up beside her, staring out over the world. He turned his attention back to her. "It'll be dark soon. By the looks of the mess out there, power won't be returning tonight or maybe not for a few nights."

Gwen nodded. "Worse than I imagined. I'm glad I stayed today instead of took my chances on the roads."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a squeeze. "Me, too."

"Let me find some candles or flashlights or something." Logan swiveled around and headed down the short hall.

Drawers and doors opened and closed. The reality concerned her. What were the chances the roads would be better in the morning? His parents' flight arrived in the afternoon. She couldn't linger. He needed time with his family, without her hanging out as an interloper. But by all that mattered, she wanted to stay.

"I found a couple of flashlights and a handful of candles." He flicked the switches, sending a beam of light across the room. "That should hold us for the night."

She plastered a small grin on her face. "Always resourceful."

"That's me." He shot her a genuine smile.

Maria's apartment would be pitch-black unless she borrowed one of the candles or flashlights from her host. No, not the candle. What if she fell asleep and it started a fire? Too risky. She could use the flashlight, but who knew how long the batteries would hold. The next door apartment proved awkward enough with the lights on, let alone in the dark, especially lacking the larger windows of Logan's home.

A shiver shook her body. She crossed her arms over her chest and tucked her fingers against her shirt. "It's getting colder." Next door wouldn't be any warmer, either.

"Yeah." He headed to the thermostat. "Fifty-five and dropping."

"No wonder."

"Whoever decided to install electric thermostats with gas heat should have their butt kicked." He looked at her, blue eyes raked her from head to toe, as if trying to ascertain some important facts. "Clothes, blankets, and body heat."

"Huh?" She blinked at him.

"Do you want to go back next door?"

She shook her head. "Not really. Especially in the dark with no lights."

He inclined his head toward her. "True. How about cold turkey sandwiches? Then, we'll jump under the blankets and hang out?"

She gave him a relieved smile. "I think I'd like that."

Chapter 11

"I'm stuffed." Logan rubbed his stomach, then plopped on the couch, repressing a shiver with the blaring chill in the room. Despite wearing heavy sweats, he wouldn't consider himself anywhere near warm. He knew she felt the same since her attire mirrored his, comfortable sweatshirt and pants.

They had eaten leftovers, then placed them back in the fridge, even though the temperature in the apartment probably served more than adequate to keep the food from spoiling and the appliance didn't work since the power remained out. They both brushed their teeth, then returned to the living room as the sun set over the horizon, bringing shadows both inside and out.

"Me, too." She wrapped her arms around herself, a sure sign she felt the cold.

Guilt settled on his shoulders. He hated to see her suffering when he was supposed to be taking care of her. "Do you want one of my shirts or jackets?" Her brown eyes met his.

"That's okay. But you did mention something about blankets?"

He grinned. "Yep. I have those. Heck, we can snuggle in like before. That was pretty toasty."

The corners of her mouth hitched up.

A sharp pain stabbed him in his left thigh, taking his breath and making him clutch the area in a moment of agony. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" Gwen rushed over, her voice filled with concern.

"Muscle cramps." He sucked in a breath and tried to get a handle on the intense throb. "Happens now… and again."

"Sit down on the couch. Let me help."

"It'll pass…"

"Just sit down. Please."

A vise encompassed his leg and squeezed tight. He half fell, half plopped down, immediately yanking his sweats down in order to tug his prosthesis off, quickly followed by the sock. Just as he grabbed the area, Gwen's hands found his.

He spared her a glance.

"Trust me." Her hands began a gentle kneading motion, working the muscle, easing the tautness with masterful caresses.

The horrid sensation began to dissipate almost at once, leaving him surprised and vastly relieved. "Where?"

She grinned at him, still massaging. "I earned my massage therapist certification while in college. Never really used it, though."

"Until now." Good thing he wore boxers or he'd be sitting there butt naked. That would certainly put a rosy stain on her cheeks.

"Until now," she agreed.

Logan studied her face, finding nothing remotely related to pity or disgust, as were his fears. Instead, he found concern mixed with a hint of pleasure.

Unable to quite believe her quick acceptance, he voiced the question eating at his gut. "Don't you find it… ugly?"

Her gaze met his and held steady. "Not at all." She moved her hands slightly upward, then back down, going over the entire leg with warm fingers. "Just because it's different doesn't mean it's ugly. It's your leg, part of you."

He frowned, puzzled and perplexed.

"Logan, you're a good man, inside and out. Handsome as the day is long with a heart of gold. You're brave, smart, so very strong, and possess a great sense of humor. So you have a prosthesis, which takes nothing away from the rest of you. It only makes you more special."

His heart buoyed at her words, the total acceptance he saw in her face and felt in her touch. Unaccustomed to such praise, he looked away, taking a moment for everything to sink in.

"If you want, I'll be more than happy to give you a full body massage."

"You don't have to." His attention returned to her face. But the suggestion sounded like downright heaven. To have her hands roaming his body would prove a sensual torture full of future promise.

"I want to." She grinned, the action radiating her beauty. "Besides, I haven't gotten to practice my technique in a long time. I used to love doing massages, found them relaxing for me, too."

Her innate giving nature pulled at his heartstrings. Most women would shun him for his disability, not offer to rub away cramps, then follow through with a full spa treatment in the aftermath of a severe winter storm.

"Just call me a guinea pig." He found his spirits revived, as relief washed over him in waves. In her eyes, he could be a complete man again. A priceless blessing.

"Good deal." She looked around. "Bed or couch, you'll have to pull your shirt off, but I think I can work around the blanket without you getting too cold."

Cold? With the heat spreading where her hands touched, he'd forgotten about the igloo they presently inhabited. His manhood started to take notice as well. He ignored the natural reaction, eager to flip over on his stomach so she could begin her gift, hoping the new position might hide the growing tent in his underwear. For a split second he considered the bed but tossed out the idea. Gwen might be a bit nervous in a more intimate setting, less free than she seemed right now.

"If you think there's enough room here?"

"Sure. I'll push the coffee table back, kneel on the floor beside you. Works just fine."

His brows furrowed. "That's hard on your knees. Why don't you grab the foot stool over there instead?"

She followed his gaze. "That'll do." Jumping up, she grabbed the small ottoman and carried it over. After rearranging the table, she scooted her seat right next to the couch. "There."

Logan couldn't take his eyes off her. Her petite form, remarkable rear, and pretty face shot flaming arrows straight to his groin, making a quick pit stop at his heart first. While her outer beauty captivated him, her attitude and matter-of-fact reaction to his disability compelled him all the more. A man could do a lot worse. He took the opportunity to pull up his sweat pants. If she wanted to work more on his stump, she could work around the clothing. Besides, it was damned cold to be sitting around in just a pair of simple boxers.

Grabbing one of the candles, she sniffed, then gave a brief nod. A quick trip to the kitchen produced an everyday dinner plate. Setting the candle in the center of the kitchenware, she lit the wick, and the room began to fill with the aroma of lavender. The small flame also put out a marginal amount of heat, enough to produce a dent in the descending temperature of the room.

"You ready?" She sat down next to him, her legs spread with each knee braced against the couch. Her position resembled a secretary facing her computer with hands free to busily type away at the keyboard.

He shucked off his sweatshirt and shivered. "Put this on. It'll keep you warm."

Her mouth opened and shut before she accepted the item. Pulling the garment over her head, she allowed the oversized shirt to fall down to hip level.

Sniffing the sleeve, she smiled widely. "Smells like you."

The thought of her covered in his scent stirred up feelings and emotions he preferred to avoid. For now. Later, if things continued to progress, he would look more closely at the effects this small brunette had on him. But one thing was for certain. No woman in recent memory cared enough to give him such a gift without requesting something in return.

Gwen's hands found his back and began working their magic after dragging the coverlet over his exposed body, shielding him from the cold and allowing her to massage his body underneath. She had to rely on tactile sensation alone, but the obstacle didn't limit her ability in the least. Stroke after stroke, his body relaxed under her tender care, knots and stress dissipated as she skillfully turned his muscles into putty.

"Where did you get all these muscles? You must have eaten your brussel sprouts as a kid."

He snorted. "Nasty things. But Mom did make sure we had plenty of vegetables."

"Whatever you did, it worked. Definitely some very nice muscles. Strong and defined. Very nice," she purred, sending another shockwave to his rapidly filling erection.

If he didn't get his mind tuned differently, he'd be writhing in discomfort way too soon. "Blame Army Ranger training more than vegetables."

"I've heard about basic training from my brother. He talks about running with his gear, obstacle courses, rope climbing, marches. Says it's pretty physically demanding."

Thankful for a neutral topic, Logan agreed. "It only gets harder. Ranger training still incorporates the basics but adds in more. Survival training, Airborne School, five mile runs in less than forty minutes, ten mile marches, combat water survival. Then you head to the mountains, and you learn what exhaustion really is. Once you get to patrols and war simulation, they cut your MREs as well."

"They don't feed you?" She paused for a moment on a gasp. "That's just cruel and inhumane."

He rolled just enough to glance at her face. Angry flares flashed in her chocolate-colored eyes. The corners of his lips twitched. The thought of her getting all worked up because of some tough training measures, which he'd volunteered for, amused him as well as sent a wave of tender happiness washing over him.

"We still received at least one meal per day. All part of Ranger training, Gwen. If it wasn't tough, everyone could achieve the highest levels, and we'd be too soft to withstand war."