“Logan.”
The familiar scent of strawberries lingered on the air. A long sweep of hair poured over his shoulder and gentle lips touched his cheek. Logan opened his eyes to find Amy leaning over him. Those emerald eyes of hers more gorgeous than ever under the wide brim of her black hat. They trailed over his face, heating his skin and causing his heart to trip in his chest.
“I hate to wake you,” she whispered with a smile. “But it’s getting late.”
Logan blinked, focusing on her expression. The same sweet one she’d first given him so long ago. Full of hope and admiration.
He shifted, lifting his arms to pull her close and claim her mouth but his elbows were glued to the floor.
Amy laughed and glanced at either side of him. “They’re knocked out, too. You’ve all had a long day.”
Logan turned his head to find Kayden draped face-down over his left arm and Jayden sprawled on his back over his right one. They clutched half-eaten peppermint sticks in their hands, each rhythmic snore puffing between their sticky red lips and brushing over his chest.
Logan smiled. He’d fallen asleep and, apparently, the boys had joined him. Amy was right. It had been a long Christmas day. Full of fun, food and family. And, of course, gifts. He lifted his head off the floor and scanned the mountains of torn wrapping paper, piles of toys and scattered ribbons littering the family room.
Presents. Logan chuckled. There’d been acres of them.
“Where is everyone?” he asked, clearing his throat to erase the husky note from his voice.
“Cissy was worn out so Dom and I sent her to bed. Dom and Pop are checking the stables, Mama and Traci are watching a Christmas movie marathon in the living room.” Amy winked. “And the partridge is still in the pear tree.”
Logan’s smile stretched his cheeks. Lord, she was beautiful. He wanted to tell her. Wanted to tug her close. Hold on to her and the moment.
“Come on,” she whispered, sliding her hands under Jayden’s arms, “it’s time to put our nephews to bed.”
Our. Dear God, he wanted...
He caught her elbow as she lifted Jayden off his arm. “Hey.”
She paused and glanced at him, expression expectant. He swallowed hard.
“Merry Christmas,” he whispered.
She grinned, the pink flush of her cheeks causing his body to tighten. “Merry Christmas.”
Jayden grumbled as she lifted him upright and held his hat to his head. Logan rolled to a seated position, then tugged Kayden to his chest and stood. He made swift work of settling a twin on each hip and they made their way quietly down the hall and into the boys’ bedroom.
Amy took the boys’ hats off and hung them on the bedposts, then motioned Logan into the bathroom. She wet a washcloth with warm water and he held the boys while she gently wiped away the sticky peppermint and scrubbed a toothbrush over their teeth to the tune of their sleepy grumbles.
Soon, they’d put each of them into their beds and tucked the covers snug around them. Logan bent and placed a kiss on Jayden’s forehead. Amy did the same for Kayden.
“Aunt Amy?”
Logan stopped, watching as Amy tiptoed back to Kayden’s bed.
“What is it, baby?” she asked, smoothing a hand over his blond curls.
“Can I sleep with my hat on?”
“Of course, you can.” She plucked it off the bedpost and placed it gently on his head. “There. You’re a bone-a-fine cowboy even when you sleep.”
“And you’re a real cowgirl,” Jayden murmured sleepily, pointing to her hat.
“Dang sure am,” she said.
The boys giggled.
Kayden curled his arms around Amy’s neck, tugging her close. “I love you, Aunt Amy.”
“Me, too,” Jayden murmured.
Logan’s chest clenched, a warm ache spreading over him and making him catch his breath. She hugged Kayden, a gentle smile appearing.
“I love both of you, too,” she whispered, kissing Kayden’s nose then Jayden’s. “Very much.”
The boys hunkered down under the covers, eyed each other, then sang out with sleepy smiles, “Merry Christmas.”
Amy laughed. “Merry Christmas. Now you two go to sleep.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they whispered, snuggling into their pillows.
She tucked the blankets a little tighter around them and left the room. Logan followed her into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind him. Her long legs carried her farther away, that beautiful raven hair of hers swinging across her back.
Logan fisted his hands at his sides, his body shaking.
“Amy?”
She stopped walking and turned, the wide brim of her hat skimming the curves of her dark eyebrows and casting a shadow over her mouth.
“I want...” His throat closed.
He wanted her. Wanted her so much it scared the hell out of him. Made him lose his logic and good sense.
“I want to...”
Hold her every night. See her first thing every morning. Have her in his life every day.
“To wish me Merry Christmas again?” she teased, crossing her arms under her full breasts. “I seem to be getting a lot of those lately.”
Logan shook his head. He took long strides across the floor, wrapped his hands around her hips and nudged her against the wall.
Those gorgeous green eyes of hers softened. “What is it you want, Logan?”
He swallowed hard, shoved down the lump in his throat and pressed close. “I want you to stay,” he whispered. “For good.”
His heart raced and his hands trembled. The ache in his chest grew, becoming intense and all-consuming. He steadied his hands around her hips and slipped his leg between hers, striving for control. Hating this weakness. This dependency on her.
Her brows lifted and moisture sheened her eyes. She asked hesitantly, “You do?”
Logan nodded, touching a kiss to her mouth.
“Why?” she whispered.
He ducked his head, pressing his hot cheek to her cool one, then trailed his mouth down her neck, nipping and kissing. She softened beneath him, her arms sliding over his back and sweet moans escaping her.
“Logan.” She tugged his head up and drifted a fingertip over the seam of his mouth. “Tell me. Why do you want me to stay?”
He firmed his jaw. “Because you’re my wife.”
The slow movement of her finger stopped. Her eyes dimmed. He kissed her, coaxing a response from her. Her sigh of pleasure heated his blood, his body hardening at the cushion of her breasts and rapid pound of her heart. He lifted her in his arms, carried her down the hall and covered her on their bed.
Logan took his time, touching and tasting her as if he never had before. He kept his eyes open, committing to memory every blush that heated her silky skin, every gasp that parted her lush mouth and every movement that lifted her supple hips. He pressed between her thighs, stilling when her lips parted several times soundlessly.
“What is it?” he urged, brushing her hair from her cheeks and trailing a hand over her breasts.
She hesitated, then shook her head, put a hand around his neck and tugged him close.