When I opened my eyes, Logan was already awake, with his back to me as he tended the fire.
The storm had passed, and birds were chirping outside.
Despite the light filling the windows, Logan’s silhouette stayed stubbornly shadowed.
He’d rebuilt the fire with military precision, each log placed like a soldier in rank.
The boy’s steady breathing filled the silence between us.
It was a hard-won but fragile victory. I flexed my stiff fingers, still smelling medicine and fevered sweat beneath the smoke.
The boy stirred in the bed. I sat up, stretching sore muscles.
“He’s better,” I said, nodding toward the boy.
Logan glanced over. His expression was unreadable except for a flicker of relief.
“Good,” he muttered, his voice still rough with sleep.
Turning back to the fire, he poked at the embers.
The silence between us felt different now, charged but not uncomfortable, as if the storm had washed away some barriers between us.
He didn’t turn when I stood. “You didn’t have to,” he said abruptly.
“Have to what?”
“Pretend.” His shoulders tensed. “Last night. You could’ve moved.”
The embers might as well have been my pride, crumbling to ash. So he had been awake. I forced a shrug. “Would you have?”
His silence was answer enough.
I brushed dust from my coat. “We should get him back to town. His parents will be worried.”
Finished with the fire, he got up and turned around. “Last night…” He trailed off.
I forced a small smile onto my face. “We had to stay warm. It was a matter of survival.” My tone was light, but my heart wasn’t. The memory of his warmth, how his body felt against mine, lingered.
Logan exhaled sharply, then nodded once. “Yeah.” Something in his eyes made my breath catch. For a moment, he might have said more, but then he turned away.
The boy opened his eyes, his small frame trembling as he looked around the unfamiliar surroundings before finding me. He sucked in a breath, and I could sense the fear rising in him like a tide.
“Hey there,” I said softly, keeping my voice warm and steady. I knelt beside the bed to reach his level. Up close, I saw faint freckles scattered across his pale cheeks. Sandy blond hair stuck to his forehead with sweat. He looked so young, so fragile. My heart ached for him.
“It’s okay.” I offered a gentle smile. “You’re safe.
I’m Sabrina, a doctor, and I’m here to help you.
” I reached out slowly, letting him see my hand before placing it on his forehead.
His skin was cooler now, fever broken, but he still flinched.
I kept my hand in place. “You’ve been through a lot, huh?
” I teased gently, as if sharing a secret.
“But you’re one tough kid. Fighting off that nasty fever like a superhero. ”
His brow furrowed, but curiosity flickered in his eyes. “I’m not a superhero,” he mumbled hoarsely.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, pretending to consider. “High fever, nasty chills, and here you are, sitting up and talking. Sounds pretty super to me.” I winked, and his mouth twitched.
“My mom,” he started, voice wavering.
“She’s fine,” I assured him. “Waiting for you at home. We’ll take you to her soon, but first, let’s make sure you’re better. Want some water? You must be thirsty.”
I held the glass to his lips, supporting his head as he sipped. His hands shook, so I kept mine steady. “There you go. You’re doing great.”
When he finished, I brushed hair from his face. His eyes looked trusting now. “You know, you must feel cooped up. Want to sit by the fire? It’s warm, and I’ll tell you a story. Dragons? Space pirates? Something magical?”
He hesitated, then nodded shyly. “Dragons.”
“Perfect.” I grinned. “I know a great dragon story.” I helped him sit up, then wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and guided him to the couch. Logan silently handed me another blanket, which I draped over the boy’s lap.
I settled beside him and began, “Once upon a time, there was a brave little dragon named Frost. He was the smallest in his clan, but had the biggest heart.”
The boy watched, wide-eyed and captivated. Tension left his body bit by bit. By the time Frost saved his village from a fire giant, the boy smiled faintly, fear replaced by quiet wonder.
I caught Logan’s gaze.
He leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, but the usual scowl on his face was absent.
Instead, something softer filled his expression.
For a moment, I glimpsed the man beneath the rough armor, someone who cared deeply but had learned to hide behind layers of sarcasm.
His eyes, usually hard as flint, had softened.
Something warm and dangerous unfurled in my chest. This wasn’t just physical attraction anymore but something far more perilous, a connection forming despite my professional boundaries. Then he looked away, jaw clenching, and the moment vanished.
As I turned back to the boy, warmth spread through me. I might not have been a superhero, but I felt like I’d done something right.
Back in the truck, my phone buzzed. Dean’s name flashed on screen. I picked up the call. “Mountain man giving you trouble?” I rolled my eyes at his teasing.
Logan scowled, but I caught a faint smirk when I retorted, “Dr.Nosy, I can handle myself.” My voice was light, but my cheeks burned. I felt Logan watching me, as if trying to figure me out.
His smirk vanished when my call ended. He stared straight ahead, grip on the wheel too tight, too controlled. Jealousy? Territorial irritation? Either way, the air was thick with unspoken tension.
In town, Juniper met us outside the clinic. “Heard you two had quite the adventure.”
Logan grunted, but I grinned, adrenaline still humming in my veins. “Just another day in Angel Spring,” I teased. This town, these people, were starting to feel like mine. I wasn’t going to let them down.
Logan brushed past me to unload the boy. His whispered words caught me off guard. “You handle me just fine, Doc.”
The deep, rough timbre of his voice sent a shiver through my body. Half challenge, half something darker that curled hotly in my stomach. My pulse jumped like a startled rabbit, and for a heartbeat, I forgot how to breathe.
Then he was walking toward the clinic doors like he hadn’t just set my nerves ablaze.
I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around my medical bag strap.
Handle him? If only he knew. One murmured sentence, and I was already unraveling.
The worst part? I wanted him to do it again.
The realization hit suddenly. I wasn’t just attracted to Logan Song.
I was drawn to him in a way that defied logic or self-preservation.
I took a steadying breath, letting cool mountain air clear my head. I was here to solve a medical mystery and help this town, not fall for its brooding billionaire protector. No matter how his voice made my skin tingle or how safe I’d felt curled against him in the darkness.
Professional. I needed to stay professional.
But watching him walk away, all power and barely contained energy, I wondered if that was even possible anymore.