He lifted his hand and slid his fingers through her hair. The fragrance of her shampoo drifted to his nose, and he breathed deep, drawing in her scent. Trailing kisses across her cheek to her neck, he nipped her earlobe.
“Apple pie. You do know I’m going to have to lick you from here,” he said, tapping the rose against her forehead, “all the way down to your yellow toes?”
“Technically, it’s not my toes that are yellow.”
“Technically, I don’t give a damn.” He broke off a large part of the rose’s stem, dug the thorns off with his thumb, and then slid it into her hair, over her ear. Leaning back, he admired his handiwork. “Perfect,” he said before lifting her to sit on the railing.
“Whoa.” She grabbed ahold of his shoulders and looked down.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and pushed between her legs. “I won’t let you fall. Ever. I have something I want to tell you, wife, so listen. Last night, I told Buchanan I wouldn’t be going on any more operations. I’ll still train with the men, help plan their missions, and run the business, but when we were in Arkansas, I realized something.”
“I never—”
He put his finger on her lips. “Let me finish. We both know there are no guarantees in life. Something unforeseen could happen to either one of us tomorrow, but missions are dangerous, high-risk business. You’ve lost one man you loved, and I love you too much to put you through that again.”
Her eyes searched his. “I’m not sure you can possibly know how much that means to me, but I came to terms with what you do and would never ask it of you.”
Her tears and trembling smile went straight to his gut. He’d just given her a gift she would never ask for, but wanted more than anything. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks. When they took you, I couldn’t think straight, and that made me a danger to you and my teams. That’s never happened to me before, but I’ve come to the conclusion that if I did participate in an operation, all that’d be on my mind would be getting home safely to you.”
“That wouldn’t be good for your men, would it?”
Logan pulled her close and pressed his lips to her forehead. “My wife is a smart woman.” It still amazed him he could call her wife. He silently promised she would never be sorry she married a man such as him.
She slipped her hands under his shirt, down the back of his loose trousers, spreading her fingers over his ass. “Are you going to talk all night, or are you going to make love to your bride on her wedding night?”
He hissed when her fingers found his balls. “The second thing you said.”
“Jeez, husband, you’re so easy.”
“You’ve no idea.” Logan scooped up Mrs. Kincaid and carried her to their bed, where she had spread yellow rose petals over the sheets. He planned to keep her there until it was time to leave for their first Christmas in Asheville.
His last thought as he slid deep inside her was that he was one lucky son of a bitch. Then, he stopped thinking.