Respirez juste une minute.

You blinked, startled. “S-sorry—”

“There. You did it again.” His tone was gruff but not mean. “You don’t gotta apologize for bein’ alive, darlin’. Not to me.”

You started bringing him coffee sometimes—black, always hot. You’d leave it on the counter and vanish before he could say anything. One day he caught you. Took the cup, nodded, and said, “that’s real nice of you.”

You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted it. I can stop if it’s annoying—”

He set the coffee down and stepped closer, gently hooking one finger under your chin to tilt your face up.

“You don’t annoy me,” he said, low and steady. “Not even a little.”

You whispered, “You sure?”

“Sweetheart, if I didn’t want you around, you’d know.”

You’d gotten used to flinching when people raised their voice—even if it wasn’t at you. Logan started talking softer around you. Not because he was embarrassed of you—because he noticed.

You once cried over something stupid—burnt toast, a hard day, some mean comment—and kept trying to apologize between tears.

Logan pulled you close, rough hand cradling the back of your head. “You don’t gotta earn space, alright? You already got it. Right here.”

You sniffled, still trying to apologize, but his grip didn’t loosen. “None’a that,” he murmured. “You feel somethin’, you feel it. That’s it. Nothin’ wrong with that.”

After that, he started noticing more. The way you held your breath before speaking. How you always sat on the edge of a chair like you weren’t sure if you were allowed to get comfortable.

Logan would nudge you gently until your shoulders relaxed. Sometimes he’d pull you into his lap and mutter, “there. Better.”

If someone talked over you in a group, Logan would pause—let them finish—and then turn to you. “What were you sayin’, sweetheart?” Like your voice mattered more. Because to him, it did.

You had a habit of saying, “I don’t know if this makes sense, sorry—” every time you tried to explain something. Logan would stop whatever he was doing, look at you dead-on, and say, “it makes sense. I’m listenin’. Don’t talk down on yourself like that.”

After that, he’d quietly echo your ideas later in conversations—“like you said the other day…”—just to prove he was listening. That what you said stuck.

You once made a self-deprecating joke in front of someone else. Logan didn’t laugh. He just looked at you, all quiet and serious, and said, “ain’t funny when it’s about you.” Then reached over and brushed your pinky with his, gentle as anything.

The first time you said, “You don’t have to stay with me,” after a bad anxiety day, he looked you dead in the eyes and said, “ain’t about ‘have to.’ I want to.” Then pulled you into his chest so tight you could barely breathe through the warmth.

Logan wasn’t great with words—but he always showed up. Your favorite snack in the cabinet without asking. A soft shirt he thought you’d like tossed onto your bed. A warm hand on your thigh when your knee bounced too much. Soft, deep murmurs: “You’re alright. I got you.”

You worried about being clingy. Logan—who healed from bullet wounds but not abandonment—told you, “you wanna be close? Be close. I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

When you struggled to accept compliments, he started slipping them in casual: “You’re real smart, y’know that?” or “you looked cute this morning. Just thought you should know.”

If you tried to brush them off or make a face, he’d raise an eyebrow and say, “didn’t ask for your opinion on it. Just sayin’ facts.”

Logan’s arm tightened around your waist, the weight of you grounding him. He loved the way your breath hitched when he shifted, your skin pressed flush against his. "Mm, baby," his voice came out low, almost a growl, lips brushing against your forehead. His fingers grazed your bare hip, pulling you tighter against his side.

Your leg slipped further up his body, your thigh brushing his stomach, every part of you tangled with him. His chest rumbled, the warmth of your skin driving him wild. He couldn't help but dip his head, nuzzling the soft spot just beneath your ear, breathing you in, "Can’t get enough of you like this," he murmured, his hand roaming down your spine.

A sleepy smile tugged at your lips as you shifted, nuzzling closer into his neck, the feeling of his stubble grazing your cheek sending shivers down your body. The heat of the morning sun was nothing compared to the heat between the two of you, the sheets a tangled mess beneath you both, the air thick with something else entirely.

Logan’s rough hand slid lower, finding the curve of your ass, fingers splaying across the soft flesh. "Always gotta be all over me, don’t you, sweetheart?" His voice was thick with need, each word a low, gravelly tease as he squeezed, hard enough to make you hum softly into his neck. He loved the way you responded to his touch, every sound you made driving him deeper into the moment.

You shifted again, your hips rolling instinctively against him, and that was it. Logan’s breath hitched, his cock stirring against your thigh. He let out a quiet grunt, rough fingertips grazing the inside of your thigh, teasing your skin with lazy circles. "You keep that up, baby," he warned, voice darker now, more possessive, "and I’m not gonna be able to hold back."

Your eyes flickered open just a bit, catching the hungry look in his eyes, the way his jaw clenched as he gripped your ass harder. You couldn’t help but smile, that playful, knowing smirk. You knew exactly what you were doing. And so did he.

Logan groaned, his hand slipping between your legs, fingers brushing the heat between your thighs. "Fuck, you're soaked," he rasped, fingers gliding over your folds, teasing you just enough to make you squirm. "Needy already, huh? Such a good girl for me."

You whined softly, your hips pushing back against his hand, desperate for more. But Logan wasn’t about to let you have it that easy. He kept his touch feather-light, teasing, dragging his fingers over you just enough to drive you insane.

Logan’s fingers teased along your wet folds, barely brushing the surface, just enough to make you whine again, hips rolling forward, desperate for more than just a teasing touch. "Needy little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, voice a gravelly rasp that sent shivers down your spine. His breath, hot and thick against your ear, only added to the tension building between your legs.

You pressed yourself harder against his hand, a soft, pleading moan slipping from your lips. "Logan," you whispered, the word coming out like a prayer, breathless, full of need. He chuckled darkly, the sound vibrating against your neck as he nuzzled deeper into the crook, stubble scraping your skin in that way that always drove you wild.

"Patience, sweetheart," Logan muttered, his fingers finally dipping between your slick folds, parting them with agonizing slowness. His touch was firm, yet still teasing, fingers gliding through your wetness, but never quite giving you the pressure you were aching for. His thumb circled your clit, slow, lazy movements that had you squirming in his arms, a quiet whimper escaping your throat.

You gasped, grinding against him, desperate for more friction, more anything. His body was a solid, immovable wall, warm and grounding, but that teasing hand had you on edge. "Fuck, Lo," you moaned, barely able to keep still, your hips rocking against his touch. Logan’s other arm tightened around you, holding you in place, his lips grazing your ear.

"That’s it. Keep making those sweet little noises for me," he growled, fingers sliding down to circle your entrance, teasing just enough to have your breath hitching. He pressed the tip of one finger inside you, just enough to feel how wet you were for him. "So fucking wet already," he murmured, his lips pressing against your neck, teeth grazing lightly. "You want it bad, don’t you?"

You nodded frantically, the need building in your core, hips pushing back against him. His finger slid in deeper, slow and deliberate, making you squirm even more. "God, Logan, please," you begged, your voice thick with desperation, body trembling with want. You could feel his cock pressing against your thigh, throbbing with need just like you.

He chuckled again, low and dark, before adding a second finger, curling them inside you, finally giving you that delicious pressure you’d been craving. Your back arched, a moan ripping from your throat as your walls clenched around his fingers. "There you go," he muttered, his voice rough as gravel. "Take what you need, baby."

You were a mess, grinding against his hand, your body moving on instinct. His fingers moved faster now, pumping in and out of you, slick and wet, the sound filling the room. His thumb pressed harder against your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your body tensing as you climbed higher, faster.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he growled into your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His hips rocked against you, his hard cock pressing insistently against your thigh. "Gonna make you come all over my fingers before I even think about giving you anything more."

The knot in your stomach tightened, your entire body trembling, on the edge, so fucking close. Logan knew exactly what he was doing, his fingers curling just right inside you, his thumb relentless on your clit, pushing you closer and closer. "Come on, baby," he urged, his voice dark and commanding. "I want to feel you come for me."

His words sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as the orgasm ripped through you, a cry spilling from your lips. Your walls clenched around his fingers, your hips bucking against his hand as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Logan didn’t stop, his fingers still working you through it, prolonging the sensation, his other arm holding you tight against him as you rode out the high. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling, oversensitive and overstimulated, but still craving more. You wanted him.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he muttered, pulling his fingers out of you, wet and glistening. He brought them up to your lips, brushing them against your mouth, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Taste yourself," he growled softly.

Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, sucking his fingers in, tasting your own slickness on his skin. Logan groaned, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you, the heat between you both palpable. His fingers slid from your lips with a wet pop, leaving your mouth craving more.

Before you could even catch your breath, Logan shifted, rolling you onto your back with ease, his weight pressing you into the sheets. His body hovered over yours, his chest brushing against your breasts as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, hungry kiss. His tongue swept into your mouth, tasting, claiming, while his hand trailed down your side, fingers tracing the curve of your waist.

"Fuck, you taste so sweet," he muttered against your lips, his breath hot, sending a shiver down your spine. His hand slipped lower, finding your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist. The pressure of his hips settled between your legs, his hard cock brushing against your soaked entrance, teasing you with the promise of what was to come.

Logan moved slowly, his hips rocking just enough for you to feel the length of him dragging against your folds, the friction making you gasp, your hands clenching in the sheets. "Shit, baby, you’re dripping for me," he growled, his voice thick with need, as he ground his hips harder, the tip of his cock pressing lightly against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

You bucked your hips, desperate for more, your body aching for him to fill you. "Please, Lo," you breathed, your voice trembling with desire. "Need you inside me."

A low, feral groan rumbled from his chest as he nudged your legs wider, positioning himself at your entrance. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense, filled with a hunger that made your heart race. Slowly, torturously, he pushed in, stretching you inch by inch, filling you completely. The sensation of him inside you, thick and hot, made your head spin, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

"Fuck," Logan hissed, his jaw clenched as he buried himself to the hilt, his body still for a moment as he savored the feel of you wrapped tight around him. "You feel so fucking good, sweetheart." His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, the rhythm steady but deliberate.

You moaned softly, your hands sliding up his back, nails dragging across his skin as he set a slow, sensual pace, his cock gliding in and out of you with maddening precision. "Logan," you gasped, your back arching off the bed, the pleasure building steadily with each thrust. "Fuck... that feels so good."

Logan's mouth found your neck, his lips trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your skin, his teeth grazing your pulse. "I know, baby," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear as his hips rocked into you, deep and slow, every movement calculated to drive you insane. His hands roamed over your body, fingers squeezing your ass as he angled his hips just right, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made your toes curl.

Your breath hitched, a broken moan slipping from your lips as you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer, needing more. Logan growled low in his throat, his thrusts becoming more insistent, his cock driving into you harder, deeper, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body.

"Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me," he groaned, his voice rough and thick with desire. His hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles that had you gasping, your hips grinding against his, desperate for more friction. "Come for me, sweetheart," he growled, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, his thrusts growing rougher, faster. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

You could barely breathe, the pleasure building to a fever pitch, every nerve in your body on fire as his fingers worked your clit, his cock pounding into you with just the right rhythm. It was too much, the heat, the pressure, his low growls in your ear driving you over the edge. With a strangled cry, your body tensed, your walls clenching around him as the orgasm ripped through you, your vision going white as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

"Fuck, yes," Logan groaned, his pace faltering as he felt you tighten around him, his cock twitching inside you. With one final thrust, he buried himself deep, his body shaking as his release hit, spilling inside you with a low, guttural moan. He held you tight, his breath ragged against your neck, his body trembling with the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breathing, bodies entwined, his weight a comforting pressure holding you to the bed. Logan's lips hovered over yours, brushing them softly, like a lingering promise. His rough fingers skimmed along your side, tracing the dips of your waist, as if savoring the way your body still hummed from the intensity.

He shifted beside you, the warm length of him pressing into your skin, a quiet rumble in his chest as he nuzzled your neck again, his stubble scraping against your pulse. "Still with me, sweetheart?" Logan's voice was low, teasing, his mouth ghosting over your jawline. The rasp of his tone sent another shiver down your spine, even though your body was still heavy from release.

"Mmhmm," you murmured, barely able to form a coherent word, your breath catching as his lips trailed lower, grazing the soft skin just under your ear. Logan chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin, as his hand slid down, resting on your thigh, fingers splayed out across your skin.

He pulled back enough to meet your eyes, the intensity in his gaze making your pulse quicken again. His thumb rubbed absentminded circles into your skin, like he needed the physical connection just as much as you did. "You really wore me out this time," he teased, smirking that cocky grin of his, though the hunger in his eyes hadn’t fully faded.

Your fingers slid into his hair, tugging him back down toward you. "Don’t act like you didn’t love every second of it," you shot back, breathless but smiling.

Logan chuckled, low and deep, dipping down to kiss you again, slow and deliberate, savoring the way your lips felt against his. "Damn right," he muttered between kisses. "Could stay like this forever."

For a moment, the world outside the room felt distant, forgotten, the only thing that mattered was the heat between your bodies, the steady rhythm of your breaths, and the soft warmth of the tangled sheets beneath you. Logan's fingers skimmed your hip, then slipped around to cup your ass, squeezing gently, making you hum softly in response.

"You're a handful, you know that?" His voice was thick with affection, despite the rough edge to it.

"Mm, you love it," you teased, a grin tugging at your lips as your fingers traced the hard lines of his shoulders.

"Yeah, I do," he growled, his lips pressing harder against yours. "Too much sometimes." His breath fanned across your face as he spoke, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart, matching your own.

Logan's hand slid up your back, pulling you closer to him, his chest warm and solid against yours. For once, the urgency had faded, replaced with something slower, deeper—like he didn’t want to let go of this moment, this feeling. "You good?" he asked, voice quieter now, more tender.

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, your hands curling around his arms, holding onto him like you never wanted to let go. "Yeah," you whispered, feeling the weight of the day melt away with him there beside you.

"Good," he murmured, kissing the top of your head, the gentleness of the gesture at odds with the wild, raw passion from earlier. But that was Logan- rough and intense, but capable of surprising softness when it came to you.

His hand settled on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him again as he let out a long, contented sigh. The steady rise and fall of his chest was soothing, grounding, as you drifted into the comfort of the moment, his warmth wrapping around you like a shield from the world outside.

"Stay here," he rumbled, his voice barely more than a growl, but there was something deeper in his tone, something protective.

You went to the large pantry and picked up a box of jars.  You took them over to the stove where there was a pan of water.  You put the jars in and lit the gas under the pot.  You stood guard while the water started to boil and the jars got well sterilized. 

‘Why is he so eager anyway?’ Sally asked. 

‘I’d bet I’m ovulating or something,’ you said, you looked at the others, ‘enhanced senses, can smell all sorts of changes in me, amongst other things.  Knew I was pregnant with Laura before I did.’ 

‘He can really do that?’ she asked, a bit shocked. 

‘Yup.’ 

‘For...for everyone?’ she asked, blushing a little. 

You smiled. 

‘He can for me, I don’t know about anyone else.  Never thought to ask.’ 

Margaret stood up, making a small noise as her knees clicked. 

‘At least I don’t have to worry about that,’ she chuckled, ‘though for Logan I might make an exception.’ 

You let out a laugh. 

‘He’s older than you, Margie,’ Sally said. 

‘I don’t mind that.   I like an experienced man,’ she sniffed. 

You chuckled again and turned the heat off under the jars, placing a lid on the pan. 

‘You’re welcome to him,’ you said. 

Margaret snorted. 

‘As if he’d even dare.  That man is head over heels in love with you.  I don’t think he knows other women exist.’ 

You allowed yourself a little preen.   

You were just about to transfer the jars to the table when there was a crash out in the hallway.  Sally groaned and headed to the door. 

‘What the hell are those kids up to now?’ 

‘If it’s Laura send her in here,’ you called. 

Laura and Sally’s son, Bobby, had formed an almost immediate alliance.  He was a sweet boy, though with green skin and the ability to stick to the walls much like a lizard or gecko.  Sally wasn’t a mutant and all she knew of his father was that he drank a lot of beer and had a great motorcycle. 

‘Not my finest hour,’ she cringed. 

Laura was fascinated by Bobby and he by her and the two of them together made for a formidable team.  Often they would be found sat, heads together, planning some scheme or mischief.  They were always the ringleaders, while their band of acolytes grew and shrunk depending on how many kids were around at any time.  Marie, by contrast, had little desire to follow her big sister around causing chaos and sought out the company of the quieter children.  She could often be found playing happily with the dollhouse Logan had made for Laura, she having now abandoned it for being ‘babyish’.  Logan had huffed about this, not only due to the work he had put into it but also his baby was growing up, casting aside childish things and it made him feel even older than he was.  Marie had climbed into his lap and hugged him and said that she would always play with it.  This got her a pinch from her sister, who didn’t want anyone else playing with the toy even if she no longer wanted it, and all hell broke loose.  As usual. 

Sally came back in, no children in tow. 

‘What was it?’ you asked. 

‘Michael’s dog was chasing a ball,’ she said. 

Michael was the young man who looked after the grounds.  He could make anything grow, even the most desiccated looking piece of plant life.  You had him to thank for the abundance of fruit and vegetables you were now trying to get pickled and preserved, some of which would go into the house’s stores, some of which would be taken to the market held in town.   Michael lived on the grounds in one of the cabins Logan had built and would likely never leave.  His dog, a wiry terrier called Suzy, was a favourite of the children and residents alike.  More than once you’d wandered into the office to find Logan sat at one of the desks, Suzy curled up on his lap fast asleep.   

As you all worked to fill the jars, you chatted.  The subject came back around to Logan. 

‘It’s like having a period tracker app, but in human form,’ Sally grinned. 

‘I suppose it is,’ you said, ‘although, I’d have thought I was getting to the age now where those should be stopping.’ 

‘They aren’t?’ 

‘Nope,’ you sighed, ‘not yet.’ 

‘But you and Logan aren’t going to have any more kids?’ 

You let out a laugh. 

‘I think Logan would have a whole army of them if he could,’ you said. 

Sally was quiet for a while. 

‘Does he have more?’ 

‘Kids?’ you shrugged, ‘I honestly don’t know. We don’t really talk about his life much. There’s still so much he doesn’t remember.’ 

‘Focus on the now,’ Margaret chided, ‘the past is the past. Nothing we can do about it now.’ 

She was right of course, but you’d be lying to say that you hadn’t thought about it over the years.  Logan had told you about Mariko, his wife, after your first visit to the house, and you understood why he had not done so before.  But he never mentioned children. Surely, though, during such a long life and so many lovers...You shook yourself.  Margaret was right.  The now was the most important thing. 

*** 

Later that same day, you were in the office, gathering up some letters and parcels that needed to be taken to the post office in town.  Looking at the time you noted that you wouldn’t be able to get there before it closed.  A job for tomorrow, then.  You were tidying the pile when you felt a pair of hands on your waist.  You smiled. 

‘Finally,’ Logan growled into your ear. 

His fingers had slipped under the hem of your t-shirt and were drifting across your stomach. 

‘The ladies wanted to know what had gotten into you earlier,’ you said. 

Logan grunted and moved his hands up to cup your breasts. 

‘And what did you tell them?’ 

‘That you could probably tell I’m ovulating.’ 

‘You are,’ he said, burying his nose in your hair, ‘smell different.  Good.’ 

‘I guessed as much.  Sally is terrified you can tell when she is too.’ 

‘No, don’t care.  Just you.’ 

You felt him moving you towards the desk. 

‘Logan, not here,’ you scolded and turned to face him. 

‘Upstairs then.’ 

You brushed the hair back off your face. 

‘Meet you up there in ten minutes?’ 

Logan took a firm grip on your hand. 

‘Nope, no.  Now.  You’ll just get waylaid by a kid or someone wanting you to examine a boil on their ass or some bullshit, and I’ll be sat up there with my cock in my hand.’ 

You giggled. 

‘Really or metaphorically?’ 

‘C’mon...’ 

Logan led you from the room.  As you went out into the hallway and headed for the stairs, Wesley came out of the lounge. 

‘Oh, I just wanted...’ 

‘No!’ Logan said firmly and started to walk up the stairs, your hand still in his grasp.  You glanced back at Wesley and mouthed ‘sorry’.  Wesley simply smiled and waved you off. 

*** 

The sound of Logan kicking your bedroom door closed could likely be heard across the whole house.  He didn’t care.  He finally had you to himself.  He even locked the door just to make extra sure you wouldn’t be disturbed.  You sat primly on the side of the bed while Logan started to strip off.  You smiled at him as each item of clothing got thrown onto the floor. 

‘This isn’t very romantic you know,’ you said. 

Logan walked over to you and kissed you. 

‘Been married too long for romance,’ he said. 

‘Oh really?’ you replied pulling a face.  You yelped a little as Logan pulled you up and pulled you hard against his naked form. 

‘Fine. I can do romance but right now,’ he said, his voice low, his hands unbuttoning your jeans then slipping them inside, ‘I just want to fuck you.’ 

All bravado fell away and you stared up at Logan’s face.  His eyes were shining and dark with lust.  His cock was thick and hard against you.  He pulled your shirt off and swiftly dispensed with your bra.  Your jeans and underwear were next.  Then he ran his hands over your backside and pulled your legs open, while lifting you up to wrap them around his waist. Instead of heading to the bed, he moved to the wall, pushing you up against it.  You felt him stroking at you, then the feel of his cock starting to enter you.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders and held on as he started to fuck you.  Your ankles were crossed at the base of his spine and his hands were holding tight to your thighs.  You’d have bruises there later.  He was thrusting into you, slow and deep.  His grunts and groans mingling in the air with your higher pitched ones.  You dug your nails into his shoulder, your legs tightening around his waist.  

‘Yes,’ you moaned, ‘right there right there yes yes yes.’ 

Logan grabbed at your head and pushed it down a little. 

‘Look,’ he growled, ‘watch me taking you....’ 

You did.  The slow roll of his hips, the in and out of his cock, slick with you.  

‘So fucking pretty like this,’ he snarled, keeping his hand on your head, making sure you were still watching him and starting to thrust a little faster. 

‘Come in me, Logan,’ you begged. 

Logan had every intention of doing so.  You continued to watch as he continued to fuck you.  He bit down on your shoulder when he came, slamming himself fully into you.  You wailed as you felt yourself following quickly behind him, squeezing him, making him groan even more.  

You stayed like that, hard up against the wall for longer than was comfortable.  You could still feel Logan inside you, softening now but still there.  He took your head in his hands and kissed you. 

‘Feel better now?’ you laughed. 

He smiled. 

‘Much better.  Seems like you wanted it as much as me, sweetheart.’ 

You kissed him. 

‘I did.  It’s just been so busy lately.’ 

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into the bed with Logan and spend the rest of the day in there with him, but you couldn’t.  There was so much to do, so much that needed your time and attention.   

‘Hey, we should have a date night,’ you said as you both collected up your clothes. 

‘A date night?’ 

‘Yeah, just one night a week where we can’t be disturbed and everyone has to sort out their own problems for a change.’ 

‘Baby, I don’t want us to start having to put sex on the calendar,’ Logan grumbled. 

‘We won’t be,’ you said, ‘it would just be some guaranteed time for us.’ 

You walked over to him and started to button his shirt. 

‘I mean, it’s not like I think we’re in trouble or anything and we have had bigger issues to deal with than just being busy, but I sometimes miss when it was just you and me.’ 

Logan smiled and pulled you closer to him. 

‘Just you and me, huh?’ 

‘Yeah.  Oh, maybe we could hire a limo and fuck in the back seat for old times sake.’ 

Logan laughed. 

‘Do you miss that?’ he asked. 

‘Do you?’ 

Logan smoothed your hair back. 

‘The driving, no.  Drunken assholes and people trying to rob me, definitely not.’ 

You looked at him.  Stared at this man who had entered your life in a moment of blood and pain and transformed it in ways you could never have imagined. 

‘What are you looking at, sweetheart?’ he said softly, his thumb tracing along your cheek. 

‘Someone I love,’ you replied. 

Logan smiled. 

‘I might just be the luckiest bastard in the world,’ he said softly and kissed you. 

You heard someone calling for you.  You sighed and bumped your forehead against Logan’s. 

‘Back to reality, I suppose,’ you said. 

‘Yep,’ Logan sighed. 

Back downstairs, you went into the office, then the kitchen trying to find who had called for you.  You smiled at a few people you passed by, blushing a little knowing that they all knew where you and Logan had been.  It had taken some getting used to, the lack of privacy.  Though your room was slightly separated from the rest of the house, it didn’t take a genius to work out what was happening up there sometimes.   

‘Ah there you are!’  

You turned to find Helen coming through the front door, holding a stack of papers.  You fell into discussion with her, aware of Logan coming down the stairs and disappearing into the kitchen.  You felt yourself go hot. 

‘You alright?’ Helen asked, ‘you look a little flushed.’ 

‘I’m fine,’ you smiled and directed her back to the papers. 

*** 

‘Completely gone?’  Logan asked. 

Wesley nodded, sipping on some tea. 

‘Well, the bones of it are still there but the main structure has completely collapsed.’ 

You and Logan sat at the kitchen table.  Wesley had been curious, as he so often was, about the state of the smelting plant.  A few inquiries had led to the discovery that it had simply fallen in on itself.  You supposed without Logan there to keep up any sort of maintenance it had no reason to stay upright.  Which was ridiculous. Buildings weren’t sentient.  Were they? 

‘I’d been thinking of visiting the old place,’ Logan said, ‘guess there’s no need now.’ 

You looked at him. 

‘Really?’ 

He shrugged and took your hand. 

‘Just an idea.  Feeling nostalgic maybe.’ 

Feeling nostalgic.  Maybe wondering if he would hear Charles again.  It had been so long and for some reason just of late, he’d been feeling the lack of him.   You watched Logan.  He looked a little far away.  

‘You alright?’ you asked. 

‘Yeah,’ he stood up, ‘need some fresh air.’ 

You found Logan in a slightly wilder part of the grounds.  An area where Michael had decided to let the plants do their thing.  It wasn’t a complete wilderness, it was just untamed.  Logan liked it there and had found two big stumps to place under a tree, one for him and one for you.  He was sitting on his stump puffing away on a cigar. 

‘I’m alright,’ he said, without looking around. 

‘I know,’ you said, sitting on the other stump. 

You both sat in silence.  Logan offered you the cigar, and you took it.  Very occasionally you allowed yourself a puff or two on one.  Logan didn’t give himself many luxuries but a good cigar was one of them.  You handed it back to him, then leaned over and rested your head on his shoulder. 

‘That’s the last of it,’ he said eventually. 

‘I guess it is.’ 

He exhaled slowly.  The last part of the past, crumbled in heap of metal and brick.  The last part tethering him to them, however gossamer thin that tether may have been.  Logan let out a breath and sniffed, wiping his nose on his sleeve.  You both sat there for a while, watching the sun starting to set. 

‘We should go back in, they’ll wonder where we are,’ you said. 

Logan wrapped his arm around your shoulder. 

‘Let them wonder.’ 

‘What about our children?’ you asked smiling. 

‘I love ‘em, but they need volume controls,’ he said, kissing your forehead, ‘if they want us, we’ll hear them soon enough.’ 

As it was no one needed you.  When you and Logan eventually made it back to the house, the kitchen was alive with people, the children all sitting down being fed, Laura bossing her little sister about and wiping spaghetti sauce off her face.  You smiled and went over to them, kissing them both on the top of the head.  Laura looked over at her father. 

‘Dad...’ she began. 

‘Yeah kiddo?’ 

She beaconed him over, shifting on her chair and patting it to get him to sit down.  Logan looked confused but did so, Laura then sitting back down on his lap. She put her arms around him and hugged him.  Logan looked at you and hugged her back.  He hugged her harder when he felt her tears on his neck. 

‘Hey hey, what’s wrong babygirl?’ he asked, wiping the tears away from her cheeks. 

‘Is it really gone?’ she asked. 

Logan swallowed and looked at her, his lip starting to quiver a little but fighting it. 

‘Yeah, sweetheart, it is.’ 

‘And I won’t hear Grandpa Charles anymore?’ 

Logan stared at her.  His heart broke for her and for him and you and everyone. 

‘No,’ he said, ‘no I don’t think you will.’ 

The room had gone quiet.  Logan looked around and moved Laura before standing up. 

‘Come on, let's go for a walk,’ he said, taking her hand. 

You watched them both leave, now fighting your own tears.  You’d never heard Charles after he died, neither did Caliban and Marie never met him.  But those two.  They did and now there was nothing left.  Watching Logan and Laura walking across the lawn, you were happy, at least, that they had each other.  The idea of Logan having to go through this alone was too sad to bear.  They would get through it, together, and the memories would become less painful.  You turned as someone said your name and you sat down to eat.  Someone had put Laura’s plate in the oven to keep warm and saved some of the food for Logan too.  You looked around at everyone around the table, smiling down at Marie as she slurped up her spaghetti.  A conversation started about a new store opening in town and for a while you forgot about anything else.   

Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."

Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."

Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.

The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.

"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."

Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.

In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.

You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.

---

You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.

You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.

After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.

You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.

But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.

You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.

You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.

But for now, the silence was suffocating.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”

Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.

From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.

You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.

---

After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.

You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.

“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.

You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”

You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.

“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.

“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”

You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren’t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”

Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”

“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”

“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”

You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”

Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”

The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”

“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”

You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”

You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”

“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”

You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”

“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”

Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”

“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”

“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.

You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.

Halfway down the stairs you saw that had made the noise and it made you gasp out loud.  

Slumped in the middle of the rug in the large open lounge was a man. Naked, legs and feet covered in dirt and grime. And blood.  Blood over his torso, his arms and hands. He was breathing rapidly and was staring at his hands. Hands, out of which jutted knives. You blinked then looked again.  He wasn’t just holding the knives, they were coming out from between his knuckles. The blood, you assumed, was from where the knives had pierced through the skin. It didn’t look like he really knew what to do with his fingers.  They were splayed, and he didn’t seem to want to move them, lest he cut himself. His eyes were wide, scared.  

You walked all the way down the stairs and stood looking at him.  

‘Are you okay?’ you asked, realising it was the stupidest thing in the world you could have said.  

The man’s head whipped around, his eyes focusing on you.  

‘Help me…’ he whimpered then passed out.  

*** 

The man finally came around, jerking awake, disorientated and confused.  You couldn’t move him other than to put him into the recovery position, so you’d found a blanket and pillow and tried to make him as comfortable as possible.  You’d jumped away when you noticed the blades in his hands retracting slowly back into his arms.  You watched as the cuts between his knuckles healed and the bleeding stopped.  As you tucked the blanket around him, you wondered what the hell had happened.  He was obviously a mutant but this guy, those blades - that didn’t seem like it was an entirely natural part of any mutation he may have had or that you’d ever heard about.  It didn’t seem like he was entirely used to them either. 

He sat up, looking wildly around the room.  You knelt on the floor, a little way from him and made sure to talk in a low, calm voice. 

‘Hey, you’re okay.  You’re inside and you’re safe,’ you said.  He looked at you.  He was handsome, even with his hair sweated slick to his head and face, a face bracketed by thick mutton chops.  He wore a set of dog tags around his neck.  You’d taken a look at them while he was out cold.  Logan they said, and Wolverine, and a number.  You assumed that Wolverine was a code name, the number being his army number.  You told him your name. 

‘Yours is Logan, right?’ you said, pointing at the tags. 

He looked down at his chest, taking the tags up in shaking fingers, still covered in blood. 

‘Yeah....’ he said, his voice rough, unsure. 

‘Can you tell me what happened?’ 

He looked at you. 

‘I...I don’t know.’ 

You moved a little closer. 

‘That’s alright.  How about we try and get you cleaned up? I can see if there are any clothes here that would fit you.  This isn’t my house, I'm just staying here, but I can take a look. Then maybe we can call someone?’ 

At that his head whipped up and he looked terrified. 

‘No!’ 

‘Okay, okay that’s fine,’ you soothed, ‘let’s just focus on cleaning you up first, alright?’ 

He nodded.  You stood and went to help him up.  He was heavy, unusually so.  While he was tall and muscular, there was a denseness to him that felt alien, not a weight that came from his natural shape and size.  As he stood, he wobbled slightly and you found yourself taking him around the waist.  It was not lost on either of you that he was still very naked.  Once he got his footing you started to move, only holding onto his arm. 

‘There’s a bathroom downstairs, just over there.’ 

You headed towards a short hallway, and there for the bathroom.  You sat him on the toilet seat while you ran some water into the tub.   You didn’t think he would be able to stand up under a shower without help.  You helped him to the bath and helped him to step into it.  He sank down into the water, a small sigh escaping from him.  You passed him a washcloth and some soap, putting a bottle of shampoo on the side of the bath. 

‘Give me a shout if you need any help,’ you said.  The man, Logan, just nodded. 

You went back to the lounge.  It was daylight now, nearing 6am.  Your eyes felt gritty and you rubbed at them.  You should probably go and get dressed yourself, then make something to eat.  Then...what?  What were you supposed to do with this strange naked mutant who had broken into your holiday cabin?  First, you needed to find him some clothes.  You hoped that there might be something in one of the other rooms.  Indeed, a few minutes searching around garnered a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  You knocked then popped your head around the door of the bathroom and left them on the floor.  Logan was laying back in the bath, clean now, hair washed and slicked back from his face, eyes closed, one hand rubbing at his temples.  You shut the door and left him to it. 

*** 

By the time he emerged, you’d dressed and were just pouring some coffee.   

‘Thanks,’ he said as he padded to the kitchen, ‘for all this.’ 

You pushed a cup over to him and a glass of water and motioned for him to sit down. 

‘Not a problem,’ you smiled. 

Logan quirked a brow and took a sip of the coffee. 

‘It’s a pretty big problem.  Thank you for not calling the police.’ 

You sat down opposite him. 

‘Not much service around here and besides, it was clear you needed help, not to be arrested.’ 

‘Even so.  I’ll drink this and be on my way.’ 

You looked at him. 

‘And where would that be?’ you asked. 

His brow furrowed. 

‘I don’t know.’ 

‘What do you know?’ you continued, ‘what happened to your hands?  You were wielding some pretty heavy metalwork when I found you.’ 

Logan put his hands in his lap, looking down at them, seemingly ashamed. 

‘Weren’t you scared?’ he said towards them. 

‘Yes.  But you seemed just as scared of them.’ 

He glanced up at you. 

‘They didn’t used to be metal,’ he said simply. 

It was clear that Logan wasn’t sure what had happened to him beyond that.  He wasn’t sure of much.  He just remembered blood and pain and running.  He’d come across this house and forced his way in. 

‘I didn’t know anyone was here,’ he said, ‘not sure I was really thinking clearly.’ 

You’d have been more concerned if the naked bloody man with knives in his hands had been thinking clearly.  

‘Are you hungry?’ 

Logan nodded.  

‘Starving.’ 

You’d not bought many groceries with you but had been planning to go into town today to get more.  Even so, there was enough to put together some sandwiches. As you worked at the counter, you glanced back at him. He was examining his hands. You watched as he made a fist and the three blades shot out from his knuckles. He let out a grunt, you couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been.  You watched as he ran a finger along the edge of one of them. The cut on his fingertip disappeared almost immediately.  

‘Is that your mutation?’ you asked.  

He looked at you.  

‘Yeah.’ 

‘Useful.’ 

Logan retracted the claws with a sharp hiss.  

‘Most blessings are actually a curse,’ he muttered.  

You put a plate in front of him and he took a huge bite from the sandwich.  

‘You said they didn’t used to be metal,’ you said, pointing at his hands, ‘what did they used to be?’ 

Logan swallowed and flexed his hand again.  

‘Bone. Bone claws.’ 

Bone claws and accelerated healing.  Neat.  

Or…not. You watched Logan eating.  Everyone assumes that having a superpower or something like that would be a brilliant thing but from where you were sitting, it looked like a burden. 

‘Why does your tag say Wolverine?’  

He touched where they lay under his t-shirt.  

‘I was a soldier. Am a soldier. It’s what they called me.’ 

You pondered this. If he was military, did that mean he was AWOL? Were you going to be having military police showing up at your door?  

‘Did they do this to you?  The army?’ 

‘I think so. I might…I think I let them.’ 

‘Why would you do that?’ You asked. 

He let out a short laugh.  

‘Been trying to work that one out myself, sweetheart.’ 

Logan finished the sandwich and sat back in his chair.  

‘You said you’re just staying here?’  

‘Yeah. Just a couple of weeks' vacation. Been hiking and getting some good air in my lungs.’ 

He nodded a little.  

‘Bit unusual for a gal like you?’ 

‘A gal like me?’ You asked quirking a brow.  

He blushed a little and you laughed.  

‘I just meant…wouldn’t you rather be baking on a beach somewhere?’ 

‘No,’ you shook your head, ‘I needed peace and quiet and a lack of other people. Present company accepted.’ 

‘Sorry to intrude.’ 

You looked at him.  

‘You needed help,’ you said simply.  

‘I’m grateful for that,’ he said after a while, ‘but I really shouldn’t stay.’ 

No, he probably shouldn’t but you could only repeat your previous question – where was he going to go? 

You knew that you should have called the authorities the second you found him, and if not then, you should have done it by now.  And yet you didn’t.  You also knew that letting a strange man, a strange mutant, into this house was not wise, but looking at him now you couldn’t turn him out.  He looked exhausted, haunted even.  Something had happened to him, something clearly traumatic.  What sort of asshole would you be if you threw him out now?  Chances are he’d end up in custody somewhere, shipped off back to the army where they would do God knows what else to him.   

‘My grandfather was a mutant,’ you said after a long silence.  Logan looked up at you, ‘he could control electricity.  Neat party trick,’ you smiled, ‘but he was ashamed of it.  Never really talked to anyone about it, except me.’ 

‘Why you?’ 

‘I think he thought I was like him,’ you said sadly, ‘I’m not, but I used to wish I was.  So, I’m not scared of you being a mutant.  I know how much it took from my grandfather to be ‘acceptable’’ you made quotes in the air, ‘and I know how much it hurt him when people shunned him for something he couldn’t help.  I’ve got another week or so here, should be time for us to figure something out, do you think?’ 

Logan looked, and felt, pathetically grateful.  All he could remember was being out in the snow, naked, finding this place and now...you.  Someone who wasn’t flinching from him, wasn’t scared and wasn’t trying to hurt him.  He still felt cautious, he wasn’t entirely sure he could trust you, but he wasn’t sure he could trust anyone anymore. 

‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘I appreciate that.’ 

You smiled.  First point of order was to try and find him some more clothes, some shoes and then maybe try and get some sleep. 

‘There’s another room,’ you said, directing Logan to the smaller bedroom, ‘make yourself comfortable and I’ll go and see if I can hunt out some more clothes.’ 

‘Thanks,’ he said, sitting down on the bed. 

"Maybe," you replied, rubbing your nose. "’m fine."

He let out a low chuckle, standing up and stretching his arms over his head. “Yeah, ‘cause you always say you’re fine, then next thing I know you’re curled up under six blankets, complainin’ about not bein’ able to breathe.” He walked over, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"I’m not always like that," you protested, looking up at him with a small smile.

"Sure, princess." Logan smirked, brushing a few strands of hair from your face. “But if you’re gettin’ sick, you should rest. You work too hard.”

"I don’t have time to be sick." You glanced at the pile of essays that still needed grading. “Besides, these students aren’t going to grade themselves.”

"Bet you I could convince Chuck to get a telepath to grade these for ya," Logan teased, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Now, go lay down.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the warmth spreading through your chest at his concern. "Logan, I’m fine. It’s just a sneeze."

"Uh-huh," he grumbled. “Just a sneeze, until it ain’t.”

"I’ll be fine," you insisted. "Besides, you're not the boss of me."

Logan smirked again, his voice dropping to that low, gruff tone that always made your stomach flip. "Ain’t I though?"

You shot him a playful glare, knowing exactly where this was going. "No, you’re not."

He tilted his head, eyes twinkling with amusement. "Alright, darlin’… but if you start feelin’ worse, you better let me take care of ya. You hear?"

You smiled, unable to help it. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll be fine, tough guy."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft kiss before pulling back. "You better be. Ain’t in the mood to deal with a cranky version of you.”

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Like you’re never cranky.”

“I’m lovable,” he grunted, moving back to his desk. "You, on the other hand…”

“I’m adorable,” you finished for him, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

You turned back to your papers, feeling the slightest tickle in your nose again. "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" Logan repeated, eyeing you cautiously.

And then, you sneezed again—this time louder. The vibration from your powers caused a low hum in the room, the soundwaves vibrating through the air, making the picture frames on the wall tremble slightly.

Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "That didn’t sound like just a sneeze, baby."

You winced, looking around at the small vibrations that still lingered in the room. "Oops."

He sighed, walking back over to you. "Come on, Y/N, that’s your body tellin’ you to take a break." He bent down to your level, his face now inches from yours. "Or do I need to carry ya to bed?"

You bit your lip, trying to keep the smirk from your face. "You wouldn’t."

"Wanna test me?" Logan’s voice was low, full of challenge.

You tilted your head, pretending to think about it. "Well, when you put it that way…”

Without another word, Logan scooped you up from your chair, making you let out a surprised laugh. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, carrying you toward the bed with ease. “You had your chance, sweetheart.”

You kicked your feet lightly in protest but didn’t really try to escape. Being wrapped up in his arms was hardly a punishment. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“Yup,” he agreed, laying you down gently on the bed and pulling the covers up over you. “Now, you’re gonna stay right here, and I’m gonna make sure you’re comfortable.”

You crossed your arms, but a smile was already spreading across your face. “You’re overreacting.”

“Am I?” Logan raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Remember the last time you got sick? You nearly took out half the mansion with your soundwaves ‘cause you were sneezin’ so much.”

You sighed, relenting. “Okay, maybe a little rest won’t hurt.”

Logan grinned, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Atta girl.”

You settled back into the pillows, the warmth of the blankets and Logan’s presence making you feel more relaxed. “Thanks, Logan,” you said softly.

He gave you a soft smile, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “Anytime, darlin’. Now get some rest before you blow up the whole room.”

---

After days of trying to convince Logan, and the others, that it was just allergies, Logan had enough. He had dragged you to Jean after you finished teaching your first class of the day, and after accidentally shattering your computer screen with your sneeze.

Jean was already prepared, a bottle of cough syrup on a nearby medical table. “See? Told you it was a cold,” she said, holding up the bottle like it was proof.

You groaned, slumping in the chair next to her. “It’s just a little cold, Jean. You all act like I’m on my deathbed.”

Logan crossed his arms, standing behind you. “That little cold shattered a computer screen, Y/N. If it wasn’t for your powers, maybe we’d take your word for it, but—” He gestured vaguely with his hand. “We’ve seen what happens.”

Jean smirked at Logan’s comment but quickly turned her attention back to you. “He’s right, you know. We’ve got to be careful with your powers. Your body’s trying to rest, and that includes your control.”

You shot Logan a half-hearted glare. “You dragged me here for this?”

“Yup,” he replied, entirely unbothered. “And now that you’re here, Jean’s gonna make sure you actually take care of yourself.”

Jean held out the bottle of syrup. “Bottoms up.”

You stared at it like it was some sort of punishment. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Logan let out a chuckle, moving to stand beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “Come on, princess, just take the damn syrup. The faster you do, the faster we get back to our room.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you took the bottle from Jean’s hand and downed the syrup. The taste made you wince, and you immediately regretted it. “Ugh, that’s awful.”

Jean patted you on the back, her smile widening. “It’ll help, though. Now, you’ll need rest, fluids, and minimal stress. I don’t want to see you teaching for a couple of days, at least.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Logan cut you off before you could say anything. “You heard the doc, darlin’. No teaching, no grading. Just rest.”

You turned in your seat to look up at him, narrowing your eyes. “It’s just a cold. I’m not dyin’ or anything.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smirk. "Not dyin’, huh? Try tellin’ that to your computer screen."

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the chair with a groan. "That was an accident, and you know it."

"Doesn’t matter," he shot back, folding his arms across his chest. “Still proves my point.”

Jean chuckled from where she stood, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “Logan’s right, Y/N. Your body’s using up energy to fight this cold, and with your powers, that means less control. It’s not just about you—it's about keeping everyone around you safe.”

You narrowed your eyes at Logan. “You’re really milking this, aren’t you?”

Logan didn’t even try to hide the grin on his face. “Oh yeah. And I’ll keep doin’ it ‘til you get your stubborn ass to bed.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I hate when you’re right.”

He chuckled, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead. “Get used to it, sweetheart. Happens more often than you’d like.”

Jean smiled warmly at the two of you, shaking her head. “Okay, lovebirds. I’ll give you some privacy while Y/N gets some rest. Logan, make sure she takes it easy.”

Logan nodded as Jean left the room, then turned back to you with a smug look. “So, no more arguments, right?”

You glared at him, but it lacked any real heat. “Fine. But just so you know, when I’m better, I’m gonna remind you of this moment. Payback’s a bitch, Logan.”

He chuckled again, unphased. “I’ll take my chances, darlin’.” Then, without warning, he bent down and scooped you up in his arms again.

"Logan!" You yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure you actually rest," he replied, his voice casual as if carrying you around was the most normal thing in the world. “Figured this way, there’s no chance of you sneakin’ back to your desk.”

You tried to fight back a smile, though it was nearly impossible when you were cradled against him like this. “I wasn’t gonna sneak back.”

“Sure, princess,” he said, clearly not believing you for a second. “But just in case.”

He carried you back to your shared bedroom, gently setting you down on the bed and pulling the covers over you. He gave you a stern look, but there was warmth behind his eyes. "Stay."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “You act like I’m a dog.”

"Not a dog,” Logan corrected, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Just a stubborn wife who doesn’t know when to quit."

You reached up to swat at his arm playfully. “I’m not that bad.”

He caught your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “You’re worse, but I still love ya.”

Your heart swelled at the soft look in his eyes, and for a moment, you forgot all about your cold. “I love you too,” you murmured.

Logan’s expression softened even further, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Now rest, sweetheart. You need it.”

You sighed, snuggling deeper into the blankets. “Only because you asked so nicely.”

Logan chuckled, leaning down to kiss your forehead once more. “I’ll take it.”

He stood up, moving toward the door, but you called after him. “You’re not leaving, are you?”

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk. “What, miss me already?”

You rolled your eyes, but your tone softened. “Maybe. Just a little.”

Logan’s smirk turned into a genuine smile as he made his way back to the bed. “Alright, darlin’. I’ll stay.”

He kicked off his boots and slid into bed next to you, pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a moment, the cold, the shattered computer, and everything else melted away. All that mattered was the warmth of his embrace.

"You’re lucky I love you," you mumbled, already feeling yourself start to drift off.

Logan chuckled softly, his hand running through your hair. “Damn right, I am."

When he caught you staring, he smirked and shouted, “Enjoyin’ the view?”

You tilted your sunglasses down just enough to meet his gaze. “Absolutely. Keep showing off.”

Logan chuckled, shaking water out of his hair like a dog, and waded back toward you. “Don’t get too comfortable. You’re comin’ in.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, leaning back and adjusting your sunhat. “This is prime relaxation time.”

He crouched beside you, droplets of water rolling off him and landing on your skin, making you squeal. “C’mon, darlin’. You can’t come to the beach and not get in the water.”

You reached for a towel and swatted at him. “I can and I will. Some of us don’t heal instantly if we scrape against a rock.”

Logan’s grin widened. “You’re no fun.”

“And you’re dripping all over me,” you shot back, laughing as he deliberately shook his head again to spray you. “Logan!”

He plopped down on the sand beside you, his smirk unrepentant. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

“You’re such a child,” you teased, throwing the towel at his chest.

He caught it easily, using it to wipe his face before tossing it aside. “You love it.”

“Sometimes I wonder why,” you teased, knowing full well why.

Logan leaned back on his elbows, his eyes roaming over you with open appreciation. “Can’t say I hate this view either,” he said, his tone dipping into something softer.

Your face warmed, but you kept your cool. “Careful. You’re starting to sound sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he said, but his expression stayed warm.

After a beat, he reached over and tugged on the brim of your sunhat. “Seriously though, you comin’ in or not?”

“I’ll think about it,” you said, smirking. “Maybe after I finish my nap.”

Logan rolled his eyes and stood, brushing sand off his legs. “Fine. But when I come back, you’re not gettin’ out of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as he jogged back toward the water, calling over his shoulder, “Better be ready!”

---

You walked out of the cabana the two of you rented while Logan stood at the patio, smoking his cigar waiting for you. He turned around and looked at your outfit before stubbing the cigar in the palm of his hand.

“Your wearin’ that out?”

“Yeah, why?” It was a simple outfit, nothing more than a bikini set with a matching mesh swim maxi skirt.

"Nothin’. Just gettin’ prepared to punch someone when he tries to get handsy," Logan said, his tone casual, but the look he gave you was anything but.

You raised an eyebrow, adjusting the strap of your bag. "Oh, so you’re on bodyguard duty now?"

"Always," he said, stepping closer to wrap an arm around your waist. "Can’t let anyone get ideas, princess."

You rolled your eyes but leaned into him anyway. "You’re ridiculous."

"Ridiculously in love with you," Logan smirked, brushing a kiss to your temple. "Now, c’mon. You said somethin’ about pancakes?"

"Yeah, there’s a diner down the street," you said, trying to hide your smile. "I heard they have good coffee too."

"Better be, or we’re never comin’ back," Logan muttered, grabbing his wallet from the patio table.

As the two of you walked toward the diner, Logan kept his hand resting on the small of your back. The streets were quiet, the morning sun warming everything up nicely.

"So," you teased as you glanced at him, "are you gonna threaten the waiter too if he smiles at me?"

Logan’s lips twitched. "Depends. He got a death wish?"

You nudged him playfully with your shoulder. "Behave, Logan."

"I’ll try," he said, smirking. "But no promises, sweetheart."

When you reached the diner, the smell of coffee and bacon wafted through the air. A cheerful hostess greeted you with a bright smile. Logan’s eyes narrowed just a touch, but he didn’t say anything as you both followed her to a booth near the window.

The moment you slid into the seat, Logan leaned back in his chair and studied the menu. "What’re you gettin’?"

"Probably the blueberry pancakes," you said, scanning your own menu. "You?"

"Steak and eggs," he said without hesitation. "Always steak and eggs."

"Of course," you teased. "You ever get tired of being so predictable?"

"Nope," Logan said, setting the menu down. "You love it."

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The waitress came by to take your orders, and Logan couldn’t resist throwing in a gruff "make the coffee strong" with his request. You bit back a grin as the waitress nodded and walked away.

"You’re impossible," you said once she was out of earshot.

"And yet, here you are," Logan said, reaching across the table to take your hand. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and for a moment, his expression softened. "Not that I’m complainin’, princess."

"Good," you said, lacing your fingers with his. "Because you’re stuck with me."

Logan smirked, his grip tightening just a little. "Wouldn’t have it any other way."

---

You finished tying off your bikini as you stepped outside onto the patio of your cabana. Logan had just reached the steps when he stopped at the bottom and looked up at you.

“Ya sure you want to go swimmin’? ‘Cause I can think of somethin’ better to do.”

You planted a hand on your hip, tilting your head at him. “A few days ago, you were practically begging me to get in the water.”

Logan’s grin widened as he took the stairs two at a time to meet you on the patio. His hands found your hips immediately, thumbs brushing the bare skin above your bikini bottoms. “Yeah, but now I got you here, lookin’ like that.”

You rolled your eyes, but your breath hitched when his fingers pressed just a little harder into your sides. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re irresistible, sweetheart.” His voice dipped low as he tugged you closer. “Don’t blame me for havin’ my priorities straight.”

“The water’s gonna be great,” you tried, but even you didn’t sound convinced.

Logan smirked. “So’s this.” His lips were on yours before you could argue, the kiss deep and insistent, his hands sliding to your lower back to press you against him. The heat of his body, combined with the sun warming your skin, had your pulse racing in seconds.

You broke away, barely catching your breath. “Logan…”

“Mhm?” His mouth was already trailing down your jaw, his scruff rough but deliciously familiar.

“We’re outside.”

“No one’s around,” he murmured, lips brushing the sensitive spot below your ear. “And I’ll stop if you tell me to.”

You didn’t tell him to stop.

Instead, you let out a shaky exhale as his hands slid lower, gripping your hips firmly before guiding you toward the lounge chair on the patio. Logan sat, pulling you to stand between his legs as his hands roamed, his touch searing.

“Gotta say,” he said, looking up at you with a wicked grin, “I’m likin’ this view.”

“You’re impossible,” you said, but your voice lacked any real protest.

Logan just smirked, his hands sliding up to the tie of your bikini top. “Let me prove how good impossible can be.”

Your knees nearly buckled when he leaned forward, his lips brushing the curve of your stomach. He untied the strings with a precision that made you wonder if he’d practiced on purpose, and before you knew it, your top was discarded on the chair beside him. His gaze darkened as he looked at you, the intensity in his eyes making your skin flush even hotter.

“Logan…” you started, but whatever you were about to say was swallowed by a gasp when he pulled you down onto his lap, his hands spreading over your thighs to hold you steady.

“Relax, princess,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve got you.”

And he did. Logan always did.

Before you could think too much about it, his hands gripped your hips again, guiding you down to lie back on the lounge chair. He followed, lips trailing down your neck, your chest, lower and lower until you were arching beneath him, fingers curling into his hair.

“Logan…”

“What?” he murmured against your skin, his tone smug but affectionate. “Told ya this was a better idea.”

You couldn’t even argue, not when he was kissing his way down your stomach, his hands slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He tugged them down slowly, teasingly, and you swore he chuckled when you squirmed.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he said, the smirk evident in his voice.

“You’re the one who—oh,” your words cut off in a sharp intake of breath as his mouth found its mark, his tongue working magic that made your thoughts scatter completely. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you in place as he focused entirely on you, the roughness of his scruff contrasting perfectly with the soft heat of his tongue.

You bit down on your lip to muffle the sounds escaping you, but Logan wasn’t having it. He pulled back just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening. “Don’t hold back, princess. Wanna hear you.”

Your breath hitched at the way he said it, at the sheer hunger in his voice. And when he went back to work, you didn’t bother trying to stay quiet anymore.

Logan growled his approval, the sound vibrating against your skin and sending shockwaves through your body. You clutched at the chair’s edges, your nails digging into the fabric as he pushed you higher and higher, his name falling from your lips like a mantra.

By the time he finally came up for air, his grin was nothing short of predatory. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“Told ya, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rough but full of amusement. “Better than swimmin’.”

You glared at him half-heartedly, still trying to catch your breath. “You’re insufferable.” You put a finger in the waistband of his swim shorts, tugging him closer. “But you better finish what you’ve started.”

Logan’s grin turned wicked as he leaned in, kissing his way back up your body. Each press of his lips left a trail of heat, starting at your hip and moving slowly, deliberately, up your stomach, your ribs, and finally to the soft curve of your breast. He bit gently at your skin, just enough to make you gasp, before his tongue soothed the spot.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low rumble, “I always finish what I start.”

His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly as he repositioned you, tugging you up until you were sitting astride him. Logan’s swim shorts were gone in one swift motion, discarded carelessly onto the patio. He leaned back on the chair, pulling you with him until his broad chest was flush against your back. His hands roamed over your thighs, squeezing possessively before sliding upward.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice rough and full of want. “Perfect.”

You shifted slightly, adjusting yourself over him as his hands moved up to cup your breasts. He kneaded them gently, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples, drawing a soft moan from you.

“That’s it,” Logan said, his lips brushing your ear. “Let me hear you, princess.”

You reached down, your fingers grazing his length, and he let out a low growl at the contact. Slowly, you wrapped your hand around him, stroking with a firm but teasing grip. His hips bucked slightly into your touch, and you couldn’t help the smug smile that spread across your face.

“Someone’s impatient,” you teased, your tone breathy but playful.

“Sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice strained, “if you keep that up, I’ll lose my damn mind.”

You laughed softly, leaning your head back against his shoulder as your hand moved in a steady rhythm. Logan’s hand slid lower, his fingers slipping between your legs to find your slick heat. He groaned, his lips pressing against your neck as he worked you open with slow, deliberate strokes.

“Such a good girl,” he murmured, his fingers curling just right. “So ready for me.”

You whimpered, your hips grinding down against his hand as he pushed you closer to the edge. Your free hand reached back to grip his wrist, stopping him just as you felt yourself teetering.

“Logan,” you said, your voice shaky but firm. “I need you. Now.”

His breath hitched at your words, and he withdrew his fingers, letting you guide him. You positioned yourself, the anticipation making your whole body tremble, and then you slowly sank down onto him. The stretch was intoxicating, and the low growl Logan let out made your pulse race.

“That’s it,” he said, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Atta girl.”

You took him inch by inch, your breath hitching as he filled you completely. Once you were settled, his hands slid up your sides, holding you steady as you adjusted to the feel of him. Logan’s lips found the curve of your shoulder, pressing kisses there as his thumbs brushed the sensitive skin above your hips.

"Sweet girl," he murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "So perfect."

You let out a soft laugh, tilting your head back to rest against his shoulder. "You’re not so bad yourself, Lo."

Logan chuckled, the sound vibrating through your back. His hands moved to your thighs, gripping firmly as he guided your movements. "C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s see what you’ve got."

You rolled your hips experimentally, the sensation drawing a sharp inhale from both of you. Encouraged, you began to move in a steady rhythm, each roll of your hips earning a low growl of approval from Logan.

"That’s it," he said, his voice rough with need. "Just like that."

Your hands found his thighs, using them for leverage as you moved. "God, Logan," you breathed, your voice shaky. "You feel so good."

"You’re the one makin’ it good, princess," he said, his hands sliding back to your hips. He squeezed gently, helping you find a faster pace. "Look at you, takin’ me so well."

You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that escaped you, the combination of his words and his touch sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Logan’s hands moved up, one sliding to rest on your stomach while the other cupped your breast, his thumb teasing your nipple.

"Logan," you gasped, your movements faltering slightly as the sensation overwhelmed you.

"I’ve got you," he said, his lips brushing against your ear. "Don’t stop now, sweetheart. Keep goin’."

You pushed yourself to keep moving, the friction and the heat building with every motion. Logan’s hand on your stomach slid lower, his fingers finding the spot where your bodies joined. He teased you there, his touch light but deliberate.

"You like that?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

"Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling. "Don’t stop, honey."

Logan’s breath hitched at the endearment, and his touch became firmer, more insistent. "Never, sweetheart. Wanna make you fall apart for me."

Your pace quickened, spurred on by his words and the sensations he was coaxing from you. The sound of your breathing mingled with his low groans, the air around you thick with heat and need. Logan’s grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your skin as he met your movements with thrusts of his own.

"So good," he muttered, his voice rough and broken. "You’re so damn good, princess."

"Logan," you said again, his name a breathless plea. "I—I’m close."

"I know," he said, his tone softening just a bit. "I’ve got you, sweet girl. Just let go for me."

With one final roll of your hips, you felt the tension snap, your release washing over you in waves. You cried out, your hands clutching at his thighs as your movements stilled. Logan’s hand on your stomach held you steady as he continued to move, chasing his own release. It didn’t take long; a low growl rumbled in his chest as he buried himself deep, his grip on you firm as he followed you over the edge.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound the soft crash of waves in the distance and your labored breathing. Logan’s hands slid up your sides, wrapping around your waist to hold you close.

"You okay, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle.

You nodded, leaning back against him. "Better than okay," you said, your voice soft but satisfied. "You’re unbelievable."

Logan chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Right back at ya, princess."

You stayed like that for a while, basking in the warmth of the sun and each other. Logan’s hands continued to roam lazily over your skin, his touch comforting and possessive. When he finally spoke again, his voice was tinged with amusement.

"Still think swimmin’ was the better idea?"

You’d moved, at least temporarily, into a cabin owned by an uncle, nestled away on a mountain road. Not totally isolated but far enough away to give you the peace you needed. It was a short drive into town and an even shorter walk to the sparkling lake in which you’d taken any number of bracing swims. The first time you’d encountered Logan close up was when he had walked up to the cabin one day and knocked at the door. He’d come to warn you about the start of hunting season and how the combination of men, beer and guns wasn’t always the best. Maybe a woman by herself should find a room in town for the duration. You thanked him for his concern but for now you’d stay put. Why should a bunch of drunken yahoos drive you from YOUR home? Logan didn’t argue, he’d delivered his message and what you did with that was your business. ‘I’ll be around though,’ he said quietly, ‘keep an eye on things’ and stalked off ‘Thanks,’ you called to his retreating back.

For some reason you couldn’t quite pin point the idea of Logan keeping an ‘eye on things’ didn’t feel creepy and intrusive. You felt safe. You spotted him occasionally, and if you did you gave him a friendly wave. It took a few times before he waved back. Or rather briefly raised his hand before disappearing into the trees.

As time went on, he would come and spend more time with you. He reminded you of a stray cat, one you would not ignore as such but just leave to his own devices, not push him, not try and force anything until finally he was there and you both acted like it had always been that way. He didn’t say much, just listened while you chattered on. At one point you started to come back from your job in town to find previously broken things fixed. Logan never asked, just saw a need and did. You would thank him the next time you saw him, and he’d nod in acknowledgment, refusing any payment or gratuity for his work.

Eventually you managed to persuade him that he didn’t have to do it all for nothing. Which was how you found yourselves on your porch, you on the swing chair, him sat on the steps, enjoying the comfortable silence of the late afternoon. He’d fixed some loose shingles on the roof for you for the low, low price of a cold beer and a sandwich, the empty plate and bottle on the boards next to him.

He had shed his usual heavy coat and was sat just in a pair of grubby jeans and a white tank top, his hair caught back in one of your hair ties, much to his chagrin. You laughed as he grumbled and told him to stop complaining and wasn’t it better to not have his hair in his face while he worked in the heat. The weather had taken an extremely warm turn, hot and sticky and humid. There was little to no breeze and moving at all just made you feel sweaty and tired. There was a sheen of sweat on Logan’s arms and the bit of his chest you could see. You felt guilty for looking but, well, you were only human. There was nothing even vaguely resembling air conditioning in the cabin and you were suffering for the lack of it. Logan snorted. ‘You’ve got a window don’t you?’ You fanned yourself with a magazine. ‘For all the good that does. Just lets more bugs in.’ ‘Get some screens, I’ll put them up for you.’ You were too hot to argue with him. ‘This fucking heat is supposed to go on for daaaays,’ you whined, ‘i tried just sitting in the bath last night with the shower on me but even the cold water was warm.’ Logan shifted a little at the thought of you lying in a cool bath, slightly ashamed of the effect such thoughts were having on him. Standing up, he brushed the dust off his jeans and picked up his shirt and coat. ‘Well you could always go jump in the lake,’ he suggested, and off he walked. Logan wasn’t much for saying goodbye.

Later that night, laying like a starfish in bed, still awake, hot and sweating after at least an hour of trying to sleep, you gave up. You just wanted to be cool for a fucking minute! Maybe Logan had the right idea. Maybe you should go and jump in the lake. You lay staring at the ceiling for a while longer, turning the idea over in your head. You could…it was past midnight, the chances of you running into anyone was remote. You could just jump in, cool off. You knew, somewhere in the back of your brain, that this was not a good idea. That you didn’t go swimming at night, certainly not without letting someone know. But you’d been wallowing in your own sweat for days now and you were sick of it. The heat had possibly driven you out of your mind.

You gathered up a towel and slipped on a pair of sneakers. You saw no reason to change from the tank top and shorts you had on. Maybe you’d skinny dip for a bit anyway. You just wanted to be cool.

You found a flashlight and started to make your way down the path to the lake. You hardly needed it, the moon full and bright in the sky, no artificial light to dim her glow. As you neared the lake you thought you heard a soft splashing. Animals you assumed, coming for a much needed drink. What you saw when you emerged from the trees was no animal. Well…not quite.

Logan was stood, his back to you, knee deep in the water. Naked as the day he was born, his hair still caught in the hair tie at the base of his neck. His back rippled with muscle as he flexed his arms and you had to stop yourself from gasping on seeing six brutal looking metal blades shoot from between his knuckles. That solved the mystery of what his ‘abilities’ were you supposed.

All sense left you and while you knew you should leave him and go back home you couldn’t look away. He was magnificent. As he turned to walk back to the lake shore, you took in his broad chest, the thick hair across it and down his stomach to the thatch of public hair and his cock…you were ashamed to feel yourself clenching around nothing at the sight of it.

You felt hotter now but it had nothing to do with the weather.

Logan stood still and scanned the tree line, making no effort to pick up his clothes. ‘I can smell you,’ he said. Coming from any other man the shiver up your spine would have indicated how creeped out you were by that statement. When Logan said it…

You emerged from the trees and walked across the patchy grass at the shore. Logan made no effort to hide his nakedness and you made no effort to hide that you were looking at him. ‘Both had the same idea, huh?’ You said ‘Something like that,’ You pointed at where the blades were still protruding from his hands. He noticed and you watched as they slowly retracted back into his arm. ‘The folk in town told me about you. Not details but…’ ‘Thought you wanted to cool down,’ Logan interrupted. You stared up at him. ‘Yeah I do.’ He splashed his feet around. ‘Water’s cold.’

Logan did not look away as you peeled off your top and pushed down your shorts. You found you did not mind. You stood there naked on the shoreline, only a few feet between you. Logan simply gestured to you with his fingers and as if he was pulling an invisible string you walked into the water.

The water was cold. Not cool. Cold. As it rose up your legs the further you walked in, the more your breath started to catch. You continued walking until you were waist deep, Logan having followed you as you waded deeper. ‘Are you still too hot?’ He asked. His voice felt so close and you could feel his heat radiate off him. Turning your head slightly you could see that he was now standing no more than a few inches behind you. ‘Yes,’ you breathed out. You felt the water move around you, felt Logan bending down and cupping his hands. Then a slow trickle of water started to run from your neck down your back. It made you shiver and let out a small sigh. Logan did this a few more times before speaking again. ‘Turn around’ You did. You continued to look at him, his gaze on you never wavering. He cupped his hands in the water again and let it run down your front this time, over your breasts, your stomach. He was just about to anoint you for a third time when you stopped him, taking his hands in yours and placing them over your breasts. He froze, staring down at where his large hands rested. You placed yours over his and urged him to squeeze. He did and you gasped, a slow massage to each breast, then his fingers trailed slowly down the slope of each, culminating in a soft pinch to your nipples. ‘Logan..’ you began ‘Don’t talk,’ he said. You nodded your head. With an almost glacial slowness he leant forward and pressed his lips against yours. Once, twice he kissed you softly, his hands settling on yours waist. Your skin felt hot where he touched you, but a different kind of heat to that of the last few days. He pulled you flush to him, his erection now pressed against you as he kissed you again, his hands moving down over your backside to cup your buttocks. ‘You going to fuck me or what?’ Logan looked at you. ‘That what you want?’ You wrapped a hand around his hard cock. He groaned into your touch. You supposed that gave him his answer.

You felt Logan run his hands over your ass again, lifting you so that your legs were wrapped around his waist, your arms around his neck. You could feel his cock against you and feel the wetness of your arousal leaking against him. ‘Been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you, Princess?’ and for then the first time you saw Logan smile. A proper smile. It opened up his face and you saw the man he was behind the beard and hair and scowl.

He carried you to the edge of the water, dropping to his knees and laying you back on the ground. You were already so wet for him but he reached a hand between your legs and began to stroke you, making you raise your hips to press harder against his hand. ‘This what you do?’ He breathed in your ear, ‘this what you think about to get yourself off?’ For a man who often said barely three words to you he had suddenly found a voice. You nodded your head which gained you another smile. ‘Tell me you want it,’ he said, already lining himself up to push inside you ‘I want this,’ you said and with that he thrust himself inside you. You let out a gasp at the suddenness of his entry. Maybe once this was a man who would have taken his time but now, now he just wanted to be inside you, to fuck you, to fill you up.

You looked up at Logan as he loomed above you. His eyes had darkened with the lust pulsing through him. The feel of his skin against yours was hot, any coolness the water had provided long since gone. As he moved his hips, hard and fast, there was a soft slap slap slap sound as your bodies touched. It didn’t take long for you to be covered in a sheen of sweat again although this time you didn’t really care. All you cared about were the long hard strokes of Logan’s cock as he fucked you. Your legs were open so wide and he was so deep inside you. There was something primal in what you were doing, the lake lapping at your legs, the moon the only witness to your actions. Logan was a rutting animal, the only sound his grunts and near snarls as he continued to pound into you. When your brain allowed you to remember that you were entirely alone in the wilderness and no one would hear save Logan you let yourself go, no longer allowing yourself to be restrained by propriety. You were loud, panting and wailing into the night air. Logan’s arm snaked around your waist and he flipped you both, you now on top. ‘Go on,’ he snarled through gritted teeth, ‘fuck yourself.’ He held tightly onto your hips as you moved and fucked back onto his cock, hard and so big. You braced your hands on his chest, the hair tickling your palms, his pubic hair tickling against your clit as you ground onto him. You reached behind you and felt at the place where you met, your fingers brushing over Logan’s tight balls, which garnered another groan from him. You were both smeared in dirt from the shoreline but you didn’t care. Another dip in the lake would soon see to that.

You felt a drop of sweat starting to run down your neck and travel between your breasts. Logan reared up and caught the drip with his tongue, licking a long strip between your breasts and up to your throat. You put back your head and invited him to bite you. As you continued to ride him, he licked and sucked at you leaving marks you weren’t sure you could explain. He remained sitting up and thrust up into you in perfect rhythm with you. Your hands were around his neck then in his hair, the tie long since snapped and discarded. As you felt your climax pooling in your stomach you held his face and stared into his eyes. He didn’t look away and you both came staring into each other, Logan capturing your screams in a deep, messy kiss, his hips stuttering as he pulsed his thick come deep into you.

You had no idea of the time when you walked back to the lake to wash the now drying mud from you. Logan sat on the shore, making no effort to join you, just watching you as you washed. The air had grown humid and sticky again and you felt little cooler than you had when you first walked here. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

George Hardy is a total grump on the outside but is just a sweet man on the inside. I think that after losing Lily and having to give up his children that being alone is better and easier. Sure he tried to have a relationship but it just didn't work out.

That's why he loves his sheep so much. Sheep aren't as complicated as people and they talk a lot less. Still he knows they're smart and are great company and that's all he needs.

Until a new bakery opens up in town with a very cute baker running it. He only meets you because your truck breaks down right next to his land and you were being too noisy and bothering his sheep with your annoyed yelling.

He fixed your truck up and refused to accept any payment. You were nice though you certainly had a fire in you that made him laugh. You smelled like sugar. He absolutely scolded himself for the thoughts that creeped into his head as you drive off.

His heart beating a little faster than it has in a long time.

You show up a couple days later with your special honey salted cookies as a thank you and while he plays it off as nothing he devours them in like 10 minutes because they're so good and he can't remember the last time anyone made something for him.

Suddenly the man who never appears in town is showing up once a week to stop at your bakery. He pretends like he's there for other things but that man is only there to see you. I think he denies any feelings that might be growing and pushes them deep deep down

I think he'd feel a lot of guilt too because he loved Lily so much and for so long that to have new feelings would cause a lot of inner turmoil.

Okay but the angst and confession where he's forced to face his most vulnerable feelings and ideas ugh I need it.

I think it would only come about because he says something mean and regrets it and has this urge to make it up to you. He doesn't care if the rest of the town hates him, but he can't stand the idea of you hating him.

There's no kiss or like, passionate confession. It's quiet and awkward but you can tell he's really trying.

Dating would start out slow. That little trailer of his isn't meant for two people so he takes you to dinner and it kind of ends in disaster because the he hates having to blend in with the town and act like someone he isn't. The whispers and stares get to him more than he'd like to admit.

So your redo first date is a picnic near his land. No one else but the two of you. You make the sweets of course and he brings the food food.

Oh omg the way he'd introduce you to all his sheep and give you the in depth description of every single one of them.

He doesn't really open up about his children or Lily but he doesn't exactly hide it either. He's not trying to keep it from you but it's a sore spot for him.

Still when he lets you feed the winter lamb and watches you coo at take care of it like he does, he knows that there's something good going on and he doesn't want to let it go.

Okay low key now I just wanna talk about what he'd be like as a boyfriend

That man is a black cat 100% and it's low key adorable. He doesn't like PDA either but will hold your hand in town. He does glare at anyone who stares too long.

He won't let you carry anything. That man has the biggest and hottest biceps and puts them to use. Sometimes he'll go down to town early in the morning to help you with shipments because what if something happens and you get hurt and he's not there to help??

Oh he smells like grass, dark oak, and a hint of vanilla. It's his shampoo.

And he kisses roughly. His hands always holding you tight as he makes sure you know through his lips how much he loves you.

He snores btw. Loudly and he swears he doesn't but he literally sounds like a chainsaw.

He loves being the big spoon

He steals your food all the time and is not sorry about it. Like yeah you did have 12 cookies on that platter but now it's 11 and he doesn't even try to hide the crumbs.

When he's stressed or upset he likes his head scratched and hair played with. He won't admit it out loud though.

You moved aside and Logan walked into the apartment.  

‘I should be working,’ you said as you collected a couple of plates.  

‘Sorry to interrupt.’ 

You shrugged.  

‘It’s fine. All I’m doing is replying to emails. They can wait.’ 

You gestured for Logan to sit down, handing him a plate while you tucked into your own sandwich. 

‘These are the best things in the world,’ you sighed. 

‘That’s why I brought you one.  Knew you’d be missing it.’ 

‘You’re the best,’ you smiled. 

‘Don’t know about that,’ Logan muttered, sipping his coffee. 

‘Why do you do that?’ 

‘Do what?’ 

‘Always put yourself down.  It’s like you’re allergic to compliments.’ 

Logan huffed a small laugh. 

‘Not allergic, just not...not used to ‘em,’ he said. 

‘That’s sad.’ 

‘It is what it is.’ 

You watched Logan as he ate the rest of his sandwich.  In so many ways he was still a complete stranger to you, while he knew a phenomenal amount about you and your life.   Despite that, you trusted him.  Despite that, you and he had shared a few moments of intimacy, a kiss.  You wanted to say you wanted more but you didn’t know if that was coming from a place of desire or loneliness.  But Logan was lonely too, that much you knew.  

‘Logan,’ you began. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Do you like me?’ 

He glanced at you. 

‘Of course I like you.  I don’t bring a bacon, egg and cheese to just anyone.’ 

You smiled a little. 

‘Just the women who flash their boobs at you?’ 

He laughed. 

‘While I appreciate them, you’ll be pleased to know I have moved past your boobs and enjoy the company of the rest of you as well.’ 

You picked at the crust left on your plate. 

‘Why did you kiss me?’ 

Logan blinked. 

‘I think we kissed each other.  And it was nothing.’ 

You let the silence sit between you for a while. 

‘Was it though?’ 

Logan sighed again and put his plate down on the coffee table, then turned to you. 

‘Sweetheart, there is nothing I would like more than to spend a few hours wrapped up with you in your bed, but there is so much you don’t know about me and there is so much...wrong with me that I can’t put you through that.  It’s not fair.’ 

‘Can’t I decide for myself?’ 

‘You can, but you’ve also just gone through a pretty shit time, emotionally.  I don’t want you doing something you’ll end up regretting.’ 

You looked at him for a long time. 

‘Do a lot of the women you sleep with end up regretting it?’ 

Logan sat back and closed his eyes. 

‘Darlin’ you have no idea...’ 

*** 

The things Logan told you, you believed.  Even before he showed you his claws, you believed.  No one, no matter how big a fantasist they might be, would ever come up with a life as elaborate as the one Logan told you he had lived.  He also did not try to make it sound exciting, or glamourous, he did not shy away from the hurt, pain, violence and death that had followed him like shadows.  You understood why he didn’t get close to anyone, why becoming your friend was a risk and why taking things any further was an even bigger risk.  Not for him, he didn’t care about himself, but for you.  To protect you.   

When Logan had finished talking, he sat back again and silence fell.  He glanced at you.  That you had not run from the room or demanded that he leave were good signs.  When you reached across and took his hand, entwining your fingers with his, he felt his heart flutter a little.  When you scooted along the couch to sit closer to him, he felt it flutter more.  What the hell, he thought, is this how I go?  Have a fucking heart attack because a woman is flirting with me?  Somehow that seemed just ridiculous enough to be so.   

Logan wouldn’t look at you, so you put your hand on his cheek and moved his head so he had no choice.  Leaning forward you kissed him softly.  At first he didn’t respond, then you kissed him again and your felt his lips yield against yours.  Then you felt his hand on your cheek, deepening the kiss and moving you closer to him. 

‘I can’t remember the last time I did that,’ he breathed when you parted. 

‘I can and it didn’t make me feel like this,’ you said. 

‘What does it make you feel like?’ 

You brushed your lips against his again. 

‘Like this is where I am supposed to be right now.’ 

You and Logan spent the next while just on the couch, kissing, touching. Your legs were on his lap, then you were in his lap, his hand moving under your shirt, yours working on the buttons of his.  His tongue swept over your lips, slipping into your mouth and moving against yours. The only sounds in the room were your sighs and the soft noise of your kisses.  

Beep! 

You whipped your head around and glared at your laptop.  

‘Oh shit!’ 

‘What’s wrong?’ Logan asked.  

‘Got a fucking meeting. I forgot.’ 

You slipped off Logan’s lap and picked up the computer. You noticed Logan moving to stand up.  

‘Where are you going?’ You asked.  

‘Leaving,’ he said, like this was the only explanation.  

‘No way. We aren’t finished. This won’t take long.  Sit.’ 

Logan looked down at you and smirked.  

‘Whatever you say, ma’am,’ he said and sat back down.  

*** 

Meeting done, you took an executive decision and signed off for the day. You could catch up, you had more important things to do than status reports for projects.  You took Logan’s hand and led him into your bedroom.  The bed stood in the middle of the room, your duvet still a crumpled heap in the middle.  

‘Didn’t make my bed, sorry.’ 

Logan grinned.  

‘You think I care?’ 

‘Probably not,’ you smiled.  

Logan had already taken off his jacket and tie in the other room. He stood before you unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it out from where it was tucked into his jeans. You pulled the white tank top out too and helped pull it off over his head. Logan’s body was littered with scars, old and new, rough and smoothed over with time. There was a thick patch of scar tissue on his shoulder. You moved closer and kissed it. You felt Logan’s hand on the back of your neck, moving your lips to his.  As he kissed you, you unbuckled his belt, unzipped his jeans and slipped your hand inside. He groaned into your mouth as you took hold of him.  

‘That all you?’ You smiled.  

‘Every inch,’ he smirked.  

‘Oh,’ you said looking at his face, ‘it’s like that is it? Getting a bit cocky in our old age?’ 

Logan laughed.  

‘Sweetheart I can’t even remember the last time I had sex. This might be a massive let down for both of us, no matter how big I am.’ 

‘Logan…’ you chided. 

‘I’m just being honest,’ he said, cupping your cheek and dropping his forehead to yours, ‘I haven’t felt like this for a long time,’ he continued in a whisper.   

‘We don’t have to,’ you said.  

‘Do you want to stop?’ 

‘No.’ 

*** 

Logan kissed every inch of you he could.  It felt like benediction.  Every part of yourself that you didn’t like was worshiped.   You felt him hard against you between your legs, against the softness of you.  He was resting on one elbow, looking down at you, his other hand resting on your thigh. You looked at him and nodded, and you felt him push your legs open just a little more. You were so wet already even while you felt him rubbing and stroking at you. Then you felt the head of his cock against you and the push and stretch of him entering you. He shuddered, his breath hitching. You opened your mouth in a silent o as he moved deeper into you. He was big, bigger than you’d had before. But he was gentle and slow and let you get used to him before taking himself deeper.  

‘You okay?’ Logan breathed.  

You smiled up at him. He looked worried, like he was doing something wrong or something you didn’t want.  

‘I’m perfect,’ you said, raising your head to kiss him, ‘stop worrying.’ 

Logan kissed you back and you felt his hips start to move. His thrusts were slow and deep. He took his time, listening to the noises you made when he moved a certain way, making sure to keep doing it just like that. The feel of your hands on him, grabbing at his back, his arms, threading through his hair, your beautiful soft body underneath him, what had he done to deserve this?  

‘Logan…’ you moaned, ‘keep doing that…please…’  

He smiled and kept doing it.  

When Logan came, sooner than he would have liked and before he’d made you come, he felt a tingle in his knuckles. He glanced at them and just saw the points of his claws starting to emerge. That had happened before, a few times but he didn’t want it to happen now. Using every ounce of will he pulled the claws back in while he came deep inside you, a deep rumbling groan spilling from him. He’d wanted you to come like this too but instead of just rolling off to the side, he pulled out and moved down, fastening his mouth over your sensitive clit and sucked and licked until you followed him over the edge. He slipped a couple of fingers inside you, into the mess he’d made, and finished the job.  With your thighs clamped around his head, your back arched off the bed, you came, loudly.  It was the sweetest sound he’d heard in a long time.  

You both lay tangled in your sheets, your head resting on Logan’s chest. You ran your fingers through the hair there and down onto his belly. He was so different to your fiancé. Size, shape, everything. Logan was not your type at all and yet here you were, wondering if you could coax another round out of him.  Logan had his arm around you and was drawing lazy circles on your shoulder and down your back.  

‘Logan…’ you were interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing.  

Logan sat up.  

‘I think that’s mine,’ he said, getting out of bed and walking naked into the other room.  

You lay in bed a while, not quite able to hear his conversation but certainly getting the tone of it. You got up and walked to the door. 

‘So fucking what?’ you heard, ‘can’t I have a few hours to my fucking self?’  

You hung back until Logan had hung up. 

‘Jesus fucking Christ….’ He muttered at the device.  

‘Everything okay?’ you asked, clearly knowing that the answer would be no.  

Logan sighed and looked at you. Standing there naked as a jaybird, leaning against the door frame, hair spilling around your shoulders. He wanted you, desperately. But life, the life he lived out in the desert, in isolation, without you, needed him.  

‘I gotta go, sweetheart,’ he said. You could hear the genuine sadness in his voice. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be here where it was soft and light.  You walked over to him and slipped your arms around his waist.  

‘I could come too,’ you said, kissing his chest.  

Logan pushed your hair back from your face and put his finger under your chin, lifting it to him, then kissed you.  

‘Not this time, baby. Maybe one day. It’s…a lot.’ 

You rested your head against his shoulder.  

‘Will I see you again?’ 

‘Of course!’ He raised your head again, ‘you think now I’ve got what I wanted you won’t see me for dust?’  

‘Thought had crossed my mind...’ 

Logan kissed you again. 

‘Not a chance.  I don’t know what this is exactly but...you mean a lot to me and I want us to keep seeing each other.  If you wanted to.’ 

You smiled at him. 

‘I do want to.’ 

‘Sure?’ 

You nodded your head.   

‘Very sure,’ you said, and snuggled closer to him, ‘it feels right.  And things haven’t felt right for a long time.’ 

Logan smiled.  There was caution behind his smile as he knew how fragile this was and how the rest of his life was just a ticking timebomb that would destroy this all in an instant.  But for now, he would cherish it.  He kissed you again, deep and long, desperately not wanting to leave but knowing he had to.   

‘I’ll call when I know what’s happening at home,’ he said when you’d parted. 

‘I hope it’s nothing serious,’ you said. 

Logan sighed and held your shoulders. 

‘Me too, doll, me too.’ 

You watched as Logan moved about the apartment, collecting up his clothes and getting dressed.  

‘Will you promise me something?’ he asked as he sat down to pull on his boots. 

‘Maybe?’ you smiled. 

Logan gave you a look. 

‘Get back out there, back to your office, to the coffee shop, anywhere.  You’re better than that asshole and he doesn’t deserve to know that he’s made you hide way.’ 

You had sat on the couch and pulled a blanket over your nakedness.  You chewed on the thought and nodded. 

‘I will.  I’ll think about it.’ 

You heard Logan mutter something about ‘stubborn as hell’ and laughed.  He walked over to you, leaned down and kissed you again. 

‘See you soon?’ you said. 

‘Soon as I can,’ he smiled. 

Every fibre of Logan’s being wanted to take off his clothes and curl up against you inside the blanket, mold himself to your body, the softness, the sweet smell of your perfume.  Anything but go back to that place with Charles and Caliban.  If he was a lesser man, he might have abandoned them by now and by God if the thought hadn’t crossed his mind every now and then.  He couldn’t.  He did not have it in him to do that.  He owed Charles too much to just leave him to rot in confusion and despair.  So, he had to move himself away, walk out the door, down the stairs, into the damn limo and back home.  Knowing that you were here, though, with those breasts that you’d flashed him all those months ago, the ones that made him smile, the ones he had kissed and licked and sucked at while you carded your fingers through his hair, it all made him feel lighter.  If he’d known then that this was where he would find himself he’d never have believed it.  He almost thanked that asshole for what he did to you.  Almost.  Mostly he wanted to shove his claws in the guy’s guts and give them a twist.  

He glanced up to what he thought was your window as he got to the car.  He squinted a little and there you were, still wrapped up in the blanket.  You waved at him, then glancing up and down the street, opened the blanket and flashed him.  You saw the grin on Logan’s face widen.  He waved back and got into the car.  You watched him drive off, then turned back to the apartment.  You supposed you should get dressed, but all you wanted was Logan back, here, in your bed, his head buried between your thighs again.  As you contemplated what to do, your phone rang.  Picking it up you saw it was your ex calling you.  You pulled a face and rejected the call.  He tried again, and you rejected the call.  You stared at it expecting it to ring again but it didn’t.  Eventually you went to your room and got dressed, wandering back out to see what was in the cupboards for you to make for dinner.  While you were contemplating this, there was a knock at the door.  

‘Logan!’ you said and ran to open it. 

Logan hadn’t seen you for a few days, not since the wedding.  He found himself missing you, but work had been racking up and he needed the money.  No time for idle chatting in coffee shops, however much he might have wanted to.  He would go back and hopefully you would still be there.  He could still taste the sweet sourness of the ketchup on his tongue.  He wondered how you tasted and then shook his head.  You didn’t need a dirty old man like him thinking such things.  But the thought of someone touching him, with kindness, with gentleness...he couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.  He didn’t think about sex much anymore, not like he did in his younger days.  Fucking his way around the mansion - and beyond.  With Charles to take care of, and work, if he did ever feel the urge he dealt with it himself.  

It never crossed Logan’s mind to go with one of the women he saw most nights out in the streets.  In fact, due to his time waiting outside bars and clubs and casinos, he’d gotten friendly with a few of them, let them sit in the limo if the weather was shitty, gave them a free ride home if he was heading off the same time they were.  They had enough to deal with, the least he could do was be a friend and not treat them like crap like so many other men did. 

Picking up another bachelorette party, his mind went to you and yours.  The night you flashed him.  He grinned at the memory.  He knew that, really, he should be more respectful and not think about it.  But it had been a while since a beautiful woman had shown him her breasts and he was, after all, just a man at the end of the day.  These gals were having a great time.  As had you.  He was sorry for what happened.  He could see the weight of it on you, especially when you’d first met.  You tried to put a brave face on things but he could see that you were still deeply hurt, humiliated.  He wished you happier days ahead. 

Happier days ahead. That probably didn’t include him. He shook his head and tried to focus. What was this? Yearning after you like a dopey kid.  But he couldn’t deny that just having someone he could talk to was nice, who wasn’t demanding anything from him, wasn’t riding his ass like Caliban was all the damn time.  Just a friend.  

*** 

When you eventually saw Logan again he was already sitting down at a table in the coffee shop. You walked in and saw him.   For some reason you felt nervous about going over to him but you did anyway. 

‘Hi,’ you said quietly. 

Logan looked up from his paper, plucked his glasses off his nose and smiled up at you.  

‘Hey.  How you doing?’ 

‘I’m okay. Busy.’ 

Logan nodded.  

‘Yeah me too. Lots of people needing to be taken places.’ 

You sat down opposite him.  

‘That’s good. I was worried….’ You trailed off.  

‘Worried?’ He asked, raising an eyebrow.  

‘That maybe I’d done something wrong.’ 

He sighed. 

‘Sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.  If anything I should be apologising to you.’ 

‘Why?’ 

‘Because it was inappropriate.’ 

You smiled a little a this. 

‘I’d hardly call what you did inappropriate.  Just...surprising maybe.  And confusing.’ 

Logan nodded a little. 

'I’m sorry for that.’ 

You shrugged. 

‘It’s okay.’ 

Silence fell between you.  You looked over at Logan to see him staring at you. 

‘What?’ 

‘Are you okay?’ he asked. 

‘Not really,’ you said, shaking your head, ‘my ex...he got in contact with me.  Wants to meet up.’ 

Oh. 

‘Why?’ Logan asked. 

‘No idea.  I don’t think I want to see him anyway,’ you said. 

‘You don’t have to, sweetheart.’ 

‘I know but my mom and my friends keep saying I should hear him out.’ 

Logan snorted in disgust. 

‘Fucker cheated on you, what is there to hear?’ 

You smiled. 

‘I mean, I don’t know the guy but anyone who can do that to the woman he’s supposed to be marrying ain’t worth shit.  And he doesn’t deserve your time,’ he continued. 

‘I guess not.’ 

You sat back in your seat.  Logan started to fold away his paper and put his glasses back in his pocket. 

‘Were you ever married?’ you asked. 

Logan paused in his tidying, then looked at you. 

‘Yeah.  Long time ago.  Didn’t work out.’ 

‘Sorry.’ 

‘Me too, doll,’ he said, standing up, ‘Gotta go. You keep your head up, you hear me?’  

‘Sure,’ you smiled. 

Logan reached out and chucked you under the chin. 

‘Good girl,’ he said and walked out. 

Oh.  Fuck. 

*** 

You didn’t understand why everyone was getting onto you about meeting your ex and talking to him.  Oh, but he just wants to explain.  What the actual fuck was there to explain?  He cheated on you, planned to continue cheating on you, you called the wedding off, the end. You were pretty sure there was little that he could say that could make the situation either better or worse.   

You’d soon discover that the latter was very much the case. 

*** 

Logan wasn’t happy but it was your life and what right did he have to dictate to you what you did.  Given the chance, he’d have beaten the fuck out of the guy for you and left him to rot in some back alley.  But you were a kind soul and when you told him that you had indeed agreed to meet, he sighed and asked if you were sure. 

‘No.  But it will get everyone else off my back.’ 

‘You don’t owe them anything, sweetheart,’ he said. 

You just shrugged.   

‘Where are you meeting him?’ 

‘Here,’ you said, ‘wasn’t going to let him come to my apartment.  At least if its somewhere public he can’t make a scene.’ 

‘Drama queen is he?’ 

You laughed. 

‘No, but he’s not likely to try and pick a fight with other people around.’ 

You hoped. 

‘When?’  Logan asked. 

‘Saturday afternoon.  Why?’ 

Logan took a swig of coffee.   

‘No reason.’ 

You were not at all surprised to see Logan sat quietly in the corner of the coffee shop come Saturday afternoon.  You looked at him from across the room, and he just shrugged and smiled, glasses as ever perched on his nose, flicking through a book this time.  When you ex arrived, you noticed Logan shift, sit up in his seat a little straighter.  Didn’t like the guy on sight, you could tell.   He walked over to the table you’d parked yourself at. 

‘Hi,’ he said. 

‘Hello Simon,’ you said back. 

‘Can I get you another coffee?’ 

‘No thank you.’ 

He had the audacity to give you a look, a sort of ‘what the hell is your problem?’ look.  He shrugged and went to the counter.  You glanced over to Logan, who pulled a face which made you laugh. 

‘What’s so funny?’ Simon asked as he sat down opposite you. 

‘Nothing,’ you shrugged, ‘what do you want?’ 

‘I have some news and I wanted you to hear it from me first,’ he began, ‘I’d have preferred somewhere more private but...’ 

‘Just tell me,’ you interrupted. 

‘It’s Gemma.  She called me last week.  She’s pregnant.’ 

You stared at him.  Your cousin, the one he was having the affair with.  Pregnant with his child. 

‘I think...I know that I want to make a go of it with her.  With our child.’ 

‘Get the fuck out.’ 

‘What?’ 

You stood up.  The screech your chair made caused the whole room to turn to you. 

‘You heard me,’ you said, your voice eerily calm considering what he had just said to you, ‘get out and go away.’ 

He sighed and gestured for you to sit back down. 

‘See this is why I wanted to meet at your place, so you wouldn’t make a scene like this.’ 

‘GET OUT!!’ 

You screamed this at the top of your lungs and you felt the world fall away.  You also felt a pair of arms around you and a voice telling someone to ‘fuck off and don’t come back.’  You felt yourself being gently ushered outside and moved off down the street.  You felt yourself being drawn to into a hug, just being held and being allowed the just sob into his chest while everything you’d dreamed of and wanted was ripped away from you.  You felt Logan’s hand on your head, soothing you, his voice low and soft and calming.   

You felt someone who had no reason to give a damn about you giving a damn and that just made you cry all the more. 

*** 

You and Logan sat on a low wall for some time, his arm still wrapped around you, you head resting against his shoulder.  The irony of wanting to meet in a public place to avoid a scene was not lost on you.  You’d stopped crying, mostly, and felt calmer.  Neither of you nor Logan spoke, just sat there, ignoring the glances of people walking by.  If anyone did say anything Logan just growled at them.  Actually growled.  That made you want to laugh, but you thought that if you started laughing then it would become hysterical and that would turn to crying and.... 

‘I should go home,’ you said eventually. 

Logan stood up and held out his hand. 

‘Come on,’ he said, holding out a hand. 

‘No, I’m fine.  I don’t need you to take me.’ 

Logan simply looked at you. 

‘Don’t bullshit me, sweetheart, you’re very far from fine.’ 

‘You have to work,’ you said. 

‘Not right now.  Come on,’ he repeated. 

*** 

When you arrived home, you conceded that Logan was right.  It was nice to have some company, even if now he was in your home he seemed awkward and not sure what to do with himself.   

‘Sit down,’ you said, gesturing towards the couch, ‘I’ll go and make some coffee.’ 

Logan watched you go into the small kitchen.  Rather than sit he stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame.  You spotted him and smiled. 

‘Surprised you don’t want something stronger,’ he said. 

‘I don’t drink,’ you said, ‘not sure it would help much would it?’ 

Logan shook his head. 

‘No it would not.’ 

While you waited for the coffee machine to do its thing, you leant against the kitchen counter.   You looked at Logan, still looming in the doorway. 

‘It’s an odd thing,’ you said. 

‘What is?’ 

‘Seeing someone else stealing your life.  Or the life you had planned for yourself anyway.’ 

‘That’s what you wanted with him?  Kids?’ 

‘Eventually,’ you said, ‘though he never actually seemed all that keen.’ 

'I’m sorry.  For what it’s worth. 

You looked at him. 

‘It’s worth a lot, actually.  Thank you.’ 

You had just put a mug of coffee down on the table when you heard a phone ping.  Logan pulled his out of his jacket pocket. 

‘Fuck...’ he said. 

‘Something wrong?’ 

He looked up at you. 

‘My dad...I’m gonna have to go.  Are you going to be alright?’ 

You nodded your head. 

‘I’ll be fine.  Thank you for what you did today,’ you smiled. 

‘Anytime sweetheart.’ 

You walked Logan to the door. 

‘Listen,’ he said, ‘any time you need to talk, not just at the coffee shop, just call.  Okay?’ 

‘Thank you Logan,’ you said, ‘that’s very sweet of you.’ 

You plodded along to the nearest coffee shop, hoping that a few shots of espresso would perk you up enough to give a damn about your job, your life, whatever else.  You’d just returned from delivering back the last of the wedding presents.  All unopened, God knows what people bought you.  You were sure it was all lovely, but you had no desire to open it and find out.   As you handed back the presents to the giver, you received the sympathetic squeeze of the hand, the ‘I’m so sorry’ and occasionally ‘I can’t believe he’d do that!’.  Well Aunt Martha, neither could I, you’d think and then smile sadly and leave them to try and find the gift receipt so they could get their money back. 

It had been bad enough to discover he’d cheated.  It was even worse to discover he’d cheated with your cousin.  A cousin who had sat in that damn limo with you on your bachelorette party and celebrated your upcoming wedding.  You hadn’t seen her since you found out and the wedding was cancelled.  You’d heard from your mother she’d moved to another state for work.   Just about the first wise decision she’d made.  

*** 

As you stood in line waiting for the complicated order of the person in front of you to end, you felt a presence at your back.  You turned and saw a tall, bearded man, black suit (a little the worse for wear), glasses perched on the end of his nose, tapping something into his phone.  You squinted then the recognition hit you.  You turned back to face the counter, feeling a hot blush of embarrassment spreading across your face.  It was the driver.   

The sound of a phone ringing made you jump.  You looked around and he was speaking to someone, low and gruff.  He seemed annoyed.  That tracked with your memories of that night, him just sitting up front, looking like he would rather be anywhere but ferrying a bunch of drunk women around.  Were it not for the fact you were paying him handsomely.  You did remember his slight smile, however, when you flashed him.  He was a guy, of course he was going to smile at a pair of breasts.   

When you reached the counter you decided you couldn’t face going to work just yet so ordered your coffee and a pastry and found yourself a quiet table.  The man did the same, sitting a few tables away from you, pulling a newspaper out of his jacket and settling down to read it.  Who even read newspapers anymore?  Like actual physical newspapers?  You didn’t realise that you were staring at him so much until he spoke. 

‘Can I help you?’ 

You almost jumped in your seat.  When you looked again, he was peering at you over his glasses. 

‘Um, sorry, no.  You just remind me of someone.’ 

‘Oh,’ he said and went back to the paper. 

You chewed on your lip.  Then looked over at him again. 

‘Do you drive a limo?’ 

The man stopped reading and looked at you again, cautious this time. 

‘Yeah?’ 

You let out a breath. 

‘I think you might have driven me and my friends for my bachelorette party a few months ago is all,’ you smiled. 

He gave you a small smile back. 

‘Maybe I did,’ he said. 

You picked up your mug and took a far too large swig of coffee, almost choking on it.  You looked up to see him reaching across with a bunch of napkins.  You coughed and took them. 

‘Thank you.’ 

You noticed he was staring at you. 

‘What?’ 

‘I think I do remember you.  All in big puffy dresses?  One of you gals flashed me.’ 

You coughed again. 

‘That...that would have been me.  Sorry.’ 

He smiled wider this time. 

‘Don’t be sorry, darlin’’ 

Normally you’d have been creeped out by a guy saying something like that, but for some reason, and you really couldn’t put your finger on it, this guy didn’t give you that feeling.   

‘Congratulations,’ he said. 

‘For what?’ 

He raised an eyebrow. 

‘For getting married?’ 

You let out a small harsh laugh. 

‘Didn’t happen.’ 

‘Oh.’ 

You shrugged. 

‘Men are scumbags,’ you said. 

He laughed then. 

‘Not going to disagree with you on that one, sweetheart.’ 

Darlin’, sweetheart.  What was going on?  Normally you’d have jumped down someone’s throat for calling you things like that but with this guy?  All the feminism seemed to have drained from your body.  Also, why were you telling him any of this?   

While you were contemplating your life choices, you noticed him standing up, putting his glasses and newspaper away and heading to the door.  You slumped back in your seat.  Great.  Now some complete stranger had gone off for his day thinking about your tits.  Sterling work. 

*** 

To compound your embarrassment, you started to see him regularly over the coming weeks.  Sometimes just a nod of the head hello, sometimes you’d both have time to sit.   Small talk wasn’t really your thing and it wasn’t his either.  You did find out his name though – Logan.  Nice, you thought.  He never dressed in anything but the suit, tie, white shirt.  A simple uniform for his job, you supposed.  Though you chatted, you wouldn’t go so far as to say you were friends.  You thought that he was maybe lonely.  Couldn’t be much fun driving people around for hours on end.  You could spare to give him a few minutes of your time. 

A few months later, you ran into him in a professional capacity.  A coworker was getting married and for some reason you had been invited along to her bachelorette party.  You tried to demure, citing that you weren’t exactly a good luck omen for brides to be, but she was insistent.  So, you got into your dress, a slinky off the shoulder number, slipped on some heels and went outside to wait for the car you were told was picking everyone up.  You weren’t outside for long when a limo pulled up.  A limo with a smattering of buckshot in the door.  Not many limos like that.   

The driver’s side door opened and you watched as Logan got out and walked around the front of the car. 

‘Hi,’ you said. 

‘Hey,’ he said, opening the door for you.  You gave him a smile and got into the back of the limo.   

Inside were a couple of people already and you were soon busy talking with them about the night to come. 

*** 

The evening seemed to never end.  Club after bar after club, with Logan ferrying you all to each of them.  Your feet hurt, you didn’t want to drink anymore and you were starving, but every time you thought about escaping and getting a cab home, you were dragged back to the festivities.  As you all piled into the limo for the last time, you found yourself limping, the strappy shoe you’d worn digging into your toes.  You sighed and leant against the limo so you could pull them off.  Logan stood by the open door. 

‘You alright?’ he asked. 

‘No,’ you complained. 

‘Soon be home,’ he smiled.  You folded yourself into the car, he closed the door and off you went. 

When you saw him at the coffee shop a few days later, he asked after your feet. 

‘They’re okay, got a few blisters.’ 

‘Didn’t seem like you were having much fun,’ Logan said.  

You picked at the pastry on the plate in front of you.  

‘Not really,’ you shrugged, ‘can’t say the thought of people getting married is exactly top of my list of fun things.’ 

He sipped on his coffee.  

‘What happened?’ 

‘With what?’ 

‘Your wedding,’ Logan said, ‘seemed like you were all excited about it.’ 

You let out a small laugh.  

‘I was. Until I found out he’d been cheating on me.’ 

‘Ah.’ 

‘Yup. And from what I could see neither of them had any plans to stop once we’d gotten married so….’ 

Logan looked over at you.  

‘Want me to go kick his ass?’ he asked with a grin.   

You laughed.  

‘Please!  Although, she did almost immediately leave him and move away, and no one in his family is talking to him so I think he is getting his ass kicked. At least metaphorically.’ 

Logan smiled then looked serious.  

‘Sorry that happened to you.’ 

‘Me too,’ you smiled sadly, ‘but y’know, lucky escape I guess.’ 

Logan stood up, putting his unread paper back in his pocket.  

‘Silver linings, huh?’ 

‘Yeah.’ 

*** 

By the time the wedding rolled around, you and Logan were, you supposed, friends.  He’d been hired to pick up some of the guests, yourself included.  You found yourself sitting up front with him, due to there being no space in the back.  You didn’t realise quite how far away he was from the action, so to speak, and so you could actually carry on a nice conversation.  Both of you chatted pleasantly as he drove you all to the church.   He was to wait until after the ceremony then drive you to the reception.  After that, you discovered, he was done. 

‘You’re not taking us home?’ you asked. 

‘Everyone will want to leave at different times,’ he shrugged and glanced over at you, ‘If you want a ride when you’re ready to come home, though, you can give me a call.  On the house.’ 

You looked at him. 

‘Seriously?’ 

‘Why not?’ 

‘Thanks, but I’d want to pay you.’ 

‘Up to you, sweetheart, but I don’t want your money.’ 

He smiled at you.  He didn’t.  At all.  He really was happy to give you a ride home, for free, out of the goodness of his heart.   

‘You’re a good man, Logan,’ you said. 

‘Don’t know about that,’ he muttered. 

Logan gave you his number and you said you’d call if you needed him.  He gave you a nod and drove off.  You watched as the limo disappeared down the street before going inside. 

*** 

By about 9pm you were done.  You hadn’t felt like drinking so beyond a few sips of champagne to toast the happy couple you’d stuck to soda.  You’d drunk so much you just felt full of fizz.  You were also starving, the food being pretty poor for what you knew the bride and groom were paying per head.  You pulled your phone out of your purse and looked at Logan’s number.  Before you had time to properly think, you hit the screen.  The phone rang a couple of times before you heard Logan’s gruff voice. 

‘Had enough?’ he said.  You were about to ask how he knew it was you but of course he did. 

‘Yeah,’ you replied, ‘I think I need to get home and get out of these clothes....I mean...’ 

You heard Logan chuckle. 

‘I know what you meant, sweetheart.  Be there in about 10 minutes.’ 

You stood outside, peering up and down the road trying to spot the limo.  When you saw it turning the corner and approaching the venue, you instantly felt lighter.  Logan stopped and got out of the car.  You liked having the door opened for you, so few men did that nowadays.  It’s his job, idiot, you told yourself.  As you settled yourself in the passenger seat, Logan pointed to the cupholders. 

‘That’s for you.  A donut too if you want it.’ 

You picked up the cup and opened the lid.  The smell of hot chocolate and cream drifted up from it.  You were about to take a sip when you stopped, replaced the top and put it back.  Logan watched you. 

‘I haven’t put anything in it,’ he said. 

‘I know...’ 

Logan sighed and picked up the cup, removed the lid and took a sip of the drink, the cream leaving him with a white moustache over his real one. 

‘See?’ 

You laughed. 

‘You can hardly blame a girl for being cautious,’ you said. 

‘No I don’t,’ he said, seriously, ‘I’m sorry you have to be.’ 

You smiled and took the cup.  The hot chocolate was very nice.  Throwing caution to the wind, you reached into the bag and pulled out a donut, pink glazed with sprinkles.  Logan took the other.  You tapped your donut against his and said ‘cheers’ which made him laugh.  

You ate the donuts then Logan set off.  You wrapped your hands around the hot chocolate, warming them a little. 

‘Cold?’ 

‘Just my hands.’ 

Logan reached over and turned on the heater.  You suddenly felt very warm and realised that he’d turned on the heated seat as well.  You wiggled a little. 

‘Like that?’ he grinned. 

‘Hell yeah.  The heater in my car barely works, let alone having heated seats.’ 

You both stopped talking when you heard a noise. Logan chuckled.  

‘Was that your stomach?’ 

‘Yes…’ you blushed, ‘I think the donut woke it up.’ 

Logan grinned again and pulled up to the first drive thru he came too. He expertly manoeuvred the limo through the tight spaces. You leaned across him to give your order and after collecting it, which he did at least let you pay for, he pulled into a parking lot so you could both eat.  

The burger and fries were the best thing you’d ever tasted after the subpar wedding food. It made you giggle a little to see Logan, so gruff and all hard edges, sipping on a strawberry milkshake (‘I like ‘em,’ he’d shrugged).  

‘Do you do that thing where you dip your fries in the milkshake?’ You asked.  

Logan gave you a look that indicated that no he didn’t and what the fuck? You laughed.  

‘This is so good,’ you sighed leaning back against the seat a little, ‘should have done this instead of go to the wedding.’ 

Logan glanced at you.  

‘Why did you go?’ He asked, popping a French fry in his mouth.  

You shrugged. 

‘I’m not really against weddings even after everything,’ you said. 

‘Pretty ballsy thing to do if you ask me,’ Logan mused. 

‘You think?’ 

He nodded. 

‘Yeah.’ 

You didn’t think you’d ever been called ballsy in your life and you quite like it.  You smiled and took another bite of your burger.  As you chewed, you glanced at the dashboard. 

‘Damn, is that the time?’ 

Logan looked over. 

‘Yeah, getting pretty late.  Should probably get you home.  Should get home myself.’ 

‘Sorry for keeping you.’ 

‘You haven’t,’ he smiled, ‘it’s just I look after my...dad and his nurse will start bitching about me if I’m too late.’ 

You thought that had been about the only truly personal thing Logan had ever told you, considering all he knew about your life.  

‘Well,’ you said, scoffing down the rest of the burger, ‘homewards, please.’ 

Logan smiled and looked at you.  Then he did something you weren’t expecting.  He reached over and with his thumb wiped away a dribble of ketchup that had dropped onto your chin.  You felt a small shudder go through you.  Logan stared at you then popped his thumb in his mouth and sucked the ketchup off it.  You swallowed hard.