“For now, all I care about is getting him to the hospital. He needs to have a doctor look at that bump on his head.” She brushed off the seat of her jeans and returned to Logan’s side.
Dani sat beside the bed and sipped a cup of coffee. She’d insisted Logan take her bed as there was a comfortable chair in her room where she could keep an eye on him. A vanilla-scented candle burned on the night table, allowing her to see his face. Considering the kind of work he did, a mild concussion was probably nothing to him, but it scared the hell out of her.
She mentally reviewed the things she needed to watch for. Thankfully, there had been no sign of nausea or slurred speech. She chuckled. His speech had been perfectly fine when he’d declared he had no intention of spending the night in the hospital. He’d claimed his head hardly hurt, but knowing Logan, if he would admit that much, then he did have a headache.
“Are you going to sit there and stare at me all night?”
Startled, she spilled hot coffee on her hand. “Ouch!” She set the cup on the table and wiped her hand on the afghan spread over her lap. “You’re awake.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, she placed her hand on his forehead. No fever, thank God. Was fever a symptom? Crap, she should have gone into nursing. “How do you feel?”
He reached up and turned on the bedside lamp, squinted when the light hit his eyes, and turned it back off. “I’m fine.” The doubt must have shown on her face because he added, “Really.”
“He tried to kill you.” She shuddered at the thought of a world without him in it. She had lost Evan; she could not lose Logan, too.
Pushing himself up against the pillows, he took her hand. “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
His hand, so big and strong, comforted her. He knew things—was trained to vanquish enemies. He would not leave her.
“Logan,” she whispered.
“Mmm?”
“Would you hold me?”
He pulled her to his bare chest. The light dusting of dark hair tickled her nose as she burrowed her face against his skin. He had showered when they arrived home, and he smelled like the bay-rum-scented soap she kept in the guest bath. God, how she missed the feel of strong arms wrapped around her and couldn’t resist snuggling up against his side.
The burning candle cast flickering shadows on the ceiling and over his face. Set on low, the soft swish of the ceiling fan and the beat of his heart beneath her ear were the only sounds in the room. If he weren’t injured, she would have tried to seduce him. Since that wasn’t going to happen and she was too keyed up to sleep, she wanted to talk. Would he tell her about his life if she asked?
“Is your mother still alive?” The silence stretched and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then the hand at her back started to move, slowly caressing her as he began to talk.
“No, she died three years ago, and I may sound like a coldhearted bastard for saying this, but it was a relief.”
“Why?”
His hand stilled and his chest rose as he sighed. He obviously didn’t like talking about his mother, but Dani hoped he would continue. She also wanted him to keep rubbing her back. His hand started moving again. “That feels good,” she said.
“Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s not a pretty story.”
She lifted her head and looked at him. “Please.”
He held her gaze for a moment and then pressed her head back down on his chest. “My mother was the town drunk. Not satisfied with only one title, she also claimed the distinction of being the town whore. It’s a toss-up as to which she did best.
“She brought home men who smelled so bad I had to scrub the stench from the walls after they left. She brought home men so drunk they passed out and fell on their face before they could get between her legs. Those were my favorites because I could just drag them outside and dump them on the street. The worst were the ones I had to protect Maria from.”
The marvelous Maria? “Who’s Maria?”
“My sister.”
“Oh.” The degree of happiness she felt at this news surprised her. Thinking that she had been jealous of his sister, she bit down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. God, the adjectives she had assigned the poor girl. Dani sat up and tucked her legs under her. “Tell me about your sister.”
“I don’t usually talk about her. Not because I’m ashamed of her, but because she’s special. There was no one on my SEAL team I wanted fantasizing about her. If they knew about her, they would want to see a photo. Once they did, they would’ve drooled on it, and I would’ve had to kill them.” He grinned, but she was sure he was dead serious.