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She’d always been the braver of the two of them, unafraid to chase what she wanted, to capture beauty others missed. While Logan had been paralyzed by the past, she’d been reaching for the future.

As they reluctantly broke apart, just enough to catch their breath but not enough to separate their bodies, Logan saw the same dazzled wonder in her eyes that he felt coursing through his veins. Her lips curved into a smile that radiated such pure joy it made his chest ache.

For one perfect moment, everything felt right in Logan’s world. Tomorrow, the guilt would return. Tomorrow, he’d remember all the reasons why he didn’t deserve her.

But tonight, under the vast Alaskan sky with Morgan’s warmth against him, even a man as broken as Logan could believe in second chances.

The kiss was even more fantastic than Morgan had imagined.

She’d dreamed about kissing Logan Gibson for so long. For years . She’d patiently waited for him to make the first move, to acknowledge the chemistry between them.

Yet he always kept her slightly at arm’s length.

However, she’d seen the attraction in his gaze. She knew he was interested.

She had no idea what ghosts haunted him. It wasn’t as if Logan lacked courage.

The man faced down armed suspects without flinching and navigated wilderness rescues with quiet confidence.

He was the type who moved through life with unwavering purpose, claiming what he wanted with a certainty most men never found. Yet with her, something ancient and unspoken held him back—a burden he carried beneath those tattooed reminders of a past he never discussed.

Whatever debt or secret anchored him seemed to outweigh even the gravity between them, leaving Morgan to wonder what pain could possibly be strong enough to keep a man like Logan from pursuing what his eyes so clearly wanted.

That was when she’d decided to make the first move.

Why wait around for Logan to initiate something? It might not ever happen if she did.

Now she never wanted this moment to end.

Even though their lips had pulled apart, neither moved away.

She leaned back just enough to see his gaze. His beautiful eyes.

He possessed a commanding presence with sharp, defined features and intense blue eyes that seemed to look straight through a person. His strong jawline and high cheekbones gave him a striking profile, complemented by dark brown hair cut short.

Standing just over six feet tall with a lean, athletic build, he moved with a confident grace. His expressions were particularly captivating—capable in an instant of shifting from distant and guarded to disarmingly warm, revealing unexpected depths beneath his composed exterior.

“I . . .” he started.

Morgan had rendered him speechless—something that rarely happened. It wasn’t that he was a talker. But he didn’t hesitate to share what was on his mind either.

Why did the fact he’d been stunned into silence make her feel proud?

Instead of saying more, Logan reached for the back of her head. Ran his hand down her hair to her neck. Then he pressed his forehead into hers as if they were two magnets drawn together.

“I got tired of waiting for you to make the first move,” she told him softly. “As my brother would have said, ‘Seize the day!’”

The smile slowly vanished from his lips.

Something shifted. Was it something she’d said?

She stiffened and waited for him to express his thoughts.

“Morgan . . .” He backed up and ran a finger over his lips.

A war waged in his gaze.

Whatever memories were playing, they were what had kept him away from her. What had put up walls between them.

“What is it, Logan?” Her voice turned cooler, though she told herself not to be reactive.

But she sensed a rejection coming and tried to steel herself for the aftermath.

She was usually the one who wasn’t interested. The one with impossibly high standards. The one who broke hearts.

His gaze—tortured—drew up to meet hers. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“What is it? You can tell me anything.” Despite her resolve not to touch him, she placed her hand on his chest. His heart thumped against her palm, his pulse quick.

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. “It’s . . . it’s actually about your brother.”

She stiffened. “Bobby? What about Bobby?”

Logan swallowed hard and looked away. When he looked back at her again, agony seized his gaze. “I’m . . . I’m the reason he’s dead, Morgan.”

Everything froze.

The world around her.

Her lungs.

Maybe her heart.

She hadn’t just heard him correctly.

Right? There was no way. His words didn’t make sense.

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat. “I . . . I don’t understand. The Iron Brotherhood killed him.”

“I . . . I was there the night he died, Morgan.” Logan’s voice cracked. “It’s my fault he’s dead.”

At once, her freezing cool spell broke. Instead, burning hot outrage filled her. “You were what? How could you have been there? Unless . . .”

Facts began to click together in her mind.

Had Logan been part of the Iron Brotherhood?

No . . . he couldn’t be a state trooper now if he’d been in a gang.

So what was he talking about?

“I wanted to help.” Logan’s voice sounded hoarse.

She stiffened. “Then why didn’t you?”

He closed his eyes, shutting out the pain that filled his gaze. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

He nodded, confirming she’d heard correctly.

Tears flooded her eyes. “What . . . ? I don’t understand. How could you have not told me this?”

His expression crumpled like she’d never seen before, the carefully maintained armor of Alaska’s toughest trooper falling away completely.

Those steel-blue eyes that had stared down criminals without flinching now held a raw vulnerability that shocked her—grief, guilt, and something like terror all battling for dominance in a face suddenly stripped of its defenses.

When he spoke, his voice emerged as barely more than a whisper, rough at the edges. “I didn’t know how.”

“So you chose this moment? The moment I’ve been waiting to happen for years—the moment my photography is being given the Ansel Adams Innovation in Photography Award? The moment we finally kiss?” She let out a harsh laugh before shaking her head. “I can’t believe this.”

“Let me explain—” Logan started to reach for her.

But Morgan jerked away. She didn’t want to hear his explanation. Didn’t want his comfort. Didn’t want to make him feel better. Not now. Maybe not ever.

She had a roomful of people waiting for her to interact with them.

“I . . . I can’t do this right now.” She turned away from him and walked toward the door, wiping away her tears as she did.

How had this beautiful moment turned into such a disaster—a disaster that shattered her very soul?

And she hadn’t even had the chance to tell him about her suspicions, her worries for her safety. She’d decided she should mention them. But her first priority had been that kiss.

It seemed this whole evening was full of mistakes.