Page 60 of Rescued By the Alpha SEAL
He's breathing hard, like he's been sprinting. His eyes lock onto mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
He doesn't speak. Doesn't hesitate.
Just crosses the space between us in three long strides and pulls me against his chest.
His arms wrap around me like steel bands, warm and solid andreal. I can feel his heart hammering against my cheek, smell pine and gunpowder on his skin. His breath fans across my hair in short, sharp bursts.
For a moment, the world narrows to just this—his grip on my waist, my fingers curled in his shirt, the way he holds me like I might disappear if he lets go.
I should pull away. Should tell him what I found. Should ask about Granger and Echo-13 and all the ghosts that haunt this place.
But right now, in this stolen breath between chaos and confession, I just let myself feelsafe.
Because that's what Logan is—not just a soldier or a protector or a man with secrets.
He's sanctuary.
My face presses into his neck as his arms tighten. I can feel the tension radiating through him, the exhaustion, the weight of whatever drove him to find me with such urgency.
And in that embrace, wrapped in warmth and worry and something deeper than either, I realize what my father never taught me:
Home isn't just four walls and a locked door.
It's the people who choose to stand beside you when the shadows lengthen and the truth burns like fire in your chest.
Even if it kills them.
Especiallythen.
20
LOGAN
The warmth of Sloane's body anchors me, even as chaos swirls around us.
Her breath stutters against my neck, fingers curled in my shirt, and for a moment—just one goddamn moment—I let myself hold her like she's the only thing keeping me tethered to sanity.
"Awww," Lucia's voice breaks through the fog. "You guys arecuuuuute."
Reality crashes back. I release Sloane and step away, ignoring the way my hands ache to pull her close again.
Focus, Logan.
But my body betrays me, remembering the curve of her spine, the soft exhale against my skin. The way she fit against me like she belonged there. These aren't thoughts I can afford right now—not with Granger's threat still ringing in my ears.
"We need to move," I say, my voice rougher than intended. "The team's waiting."
Sloane straightens, composing herself with that quick efficiency I've come to expect.
But something's different in her eyes—like she's made a decision I'm not privy to yet.
"Lead the way," she says quietly.
Lucia bounces between us as we head down the corridor, her energy a stark contrast to the tension crackling in the air. The hallway stretches ahead, each step echoing against worn floorboards. Somewhere, a radio crackles with static—probably Asa running interference checks again.
"So..." Sloane breaks the silence, her voice careful but determined. "You went to see them? The guys?"
I nod once, keeping my eyes forward. "Had to debrief. Figure out next steps."
