Page 102 of Until You Found Me

Tessa is needy and tactical tonight. After everything that’s happened, the comfort of his touch is all she wants, so she carefully removes her clothes as they get ready to turn in. “Lay with me like this? Just to sleep. I miss you.”

They are both a mess in more ways than one. Logan’s as miserable as she is, more so due to his injuries from the fight, but maybe he needs that connection as much as she does. Heis eager to agree and when he slides in beside her, there’s relief in his exhale that mingles with her own once their bodies find each other. They couldn’t sleep this way at the hospital for obvious reasons. Now that they’re home, she intends to make it a nightly ritual.

Logan spoons up behind her, tucks a leg between both of hers, and wraps an arm around her ribs while she cuddles in close, his breath ghosting her ear. It’s the first time she’s been naked with him since she got her memory back. A part of her needed it to happen quickly before anxiety could fester that somehow her body would react differently, or that his might. Maybe she did have a hidden motive, but the instant familiarity eases her nerves.

There’s a TV show playing in the background, water on both nightstands and the dog asleep in the doorway, all bandaged and drugged up just like the two of them.

“I’m so glad Vegas is okay,” she says. “I was worried.”

“He’s made of Teflon.”

Arthur picked him up from the vet and returned him this afternoon, along with the paperwork sent by the staff. Detailed instructions on how to manage the bullet wound that should heal with time and a shiny new bill for two thousand dollars.

Logan only shrugged and dropped the bill in a drawer.

“We’re quite the trio,” she muses, hugging his forearm to her chest.

“We can all convalesce together.”

Two kidney surgeries and a bullet hole in the same little trailer. It’s almost laughable if she had any desire or ability to laugh, but she doesn’t. The procedure has been harder on her than she’ll let on. Her body is protesting the loss of anorgan, leaving her exhausted. Logan, on the other hand, is already reaping the benefits. He may be sore and tired, but he was starved for what she’s given him, and the effects of a fully functional kidney are already evident.

“I feel like Wolverine,” he joked this morning. “Still hurting, but I’m healing so damn fast. It’s like my whole body is brand new.”

So far, the transplant has been a success. He’s on a long list of medications to keep it that way and they don’t talk yet about what they’ll do when the state stops paying for those. Color has returned to his skin and hope sparks in his eyes. They will figure it out, she’s sure of that. For now, she lets the contagious effects of his happiness prop her up while she waits for her own body to follow suit and heal, too.

* * *

One week after surgery, she’s frustrated at how slowly she’s healing. Tessa has no regrets about what she’s done but would prefer that her recovery pick up the pace. She has things to do, places to go…

Logan’s a tender caregiver. He helps her shuffle around those first few days, washes her hair in the shower, and brings her meals in bed. All despite her protests that he should rest too, telling her he’s never felt better and he won’t overdo it. He’s careful, and she believes him. So she lets him care for her and allows herself to enjoy being fussed over. No man has ever treated her this well. Nick was all she’d ever known and a part of her was grateful that she met Logan without every horrid memory intact. Could she have let him in if the fullweight of that past hung heavy between them? She wants to hope that she could.

He let her in despite the weight of his own trauma, after all.

What-ifs are pointless, though. She wakes up to him every morning and slides into bed beside him every night. Everything is falling into place.

When they sleep, arousal is barely a background thought, but that doesn’t last long. Somewhere around day ten, once the sharp pains have dulled and their energy returns, she wonders if it’s torture to lie like this. He hardens the moment they touch and the slightest movements have her flushed and slick.

“I’m sorry,” she sighs, looking up from where she rests across his chest, biting her lip when the length of him tents the sheets. “We don’t have to be this close. It’s not fair. I can sleep on my own side of the bed, and put some clothes on.”

“Want you right here just like this?” He grumbles, squeezing the round of her ass with a large hand when she tries to pull her leg off his hip. “Ignore it. It’ll go down. It just means I fucking love you.”

She smiles, a giddy flutter in her chest. “I fucking love you, too.”

“Yeah, I can feel how much on my thigh. Nice and wet.”

She gasps. “Logan!”

“I like it.” There’s a rumbling growl at the back of his throat. “Wanna taste it…might be okay to—”

“We could pull our stitches.” It’s far too early and they both know it, but she so badly wants to say yes and let him press his mouth to her. It takes all her willpower to turn him down.

“You’re right, we’re responsible adults and all that. We can wait. I keep checking the calendar on my phone, though.Looking at the alert you set.”

She raises a brow. “Three more weeks.”

“Three more.”

“We got this.”

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