He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

of the police cars and skidded to a halt in the middle of the road, twenty feet from her car, fishtailing around until he faced the same direction he’d come from.
    Stunned, she watched him get out of his car. He was still wearing the khaki shorts he’d worn earlier, but he’d donned a white t-shirt. His hair was damp and disheveled, so unlike his normal every-hair-in-place look that she couldn’t help but smile.
    He hadn’t let her go after all.
    She threw her door open, frowning when the pain in her side forced her to get up slower than she’d like. She rushed toward him, meeting him halfway, stopping just short of touching him.
    He took off his sunglasses and hung them on the front of his t-shirt. Damn if he didn’t look as sexy as he did in one of those blasted suits of his. She wanted to touch him so badly she had to ball her fists to keep from reaching out. If he wanted her, he would have to make the first move.
    His expression hardened as he stared down at her. “You’re not getting on that plane.”
    She raised a brow, disappointed. That wasn’t what she’d hoped he would say. “Really? Who’s going to stop me?”
    He glanced at the ring of police cars surrounding them, then back at her as if he thought she’d lost her mind.
    “Okay,” she said. “I concede you might have the necessary manpower.” Unable to stop herself, she reached up and sifted her fingers through his hair, sweeping some of the dark strands back from his face. One touch, it wasn’t enough, but it would do. For now. She drew a shaky breath and dropped her hand.
    He closed his eyes briefly and looked like he was struggling for control. She waited, hoping. Was it really that hard for him to tell her he loved her?
    “The letter was a lie, every word.”
    Relief surged through her. She knew he’d lied, but hearing him say it helped ease her fears. She waited for him to say more but he only stared at her. “And?” she prodded.
    “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking. “Mandy, I’m so sorry I failed you.”
    “Oh, Logan. You didn’t fail me. You’ve never failed me.”
    His brows narrowed in confusion. “But the CD, when you heard it, and then later in the clearing, you asked what took me so long. I thought—”
    “You thought wrong.” Unable to resist the impulse anymore, she reached up and caressed the side of his face. “You’ve been living with such guilt for so long you automatically assumed I blamed you, too. I didn’t. I don’t. I ran from the music, not from you. And the only thing that took you too long was telling me you loved me.” She dropped her hand and crossed her arms. “I demand you say it again.”
    His brows rose and the pain on his face slowly eased as he searched her eyes.
    “I’m waiting,” she said, tapping her foot on the pavement.
    Logan’s mouth twitched, then he cleared his throat. “I took a new job.”
    Not what she’d wanted to hear. “You took a new job?” Why was he telling her this?
    “Chief of police. Shadow Falls. There’s a catch, though.”
    “A catch?” she whispered. What was he talking about? Why wasn’t he telling her he loved her? Why wasn’t he kissing her?
    He stepped forward, so close that the tips of his shoes brushed against hers. “I have to get married. Apparently the last chief quit after less than a year on the job. The mayor wants the next chief to be married. It shows stability, gives the mayor more confidence the chief won’t quit so soon next time.”
    Amanda’s mouth went dry. She couldn’t speak. She could barely breathe. What was he babbling about? He couldn’t possibly mean. . . .
    He smiled that heart-stopping, sexy smile of his. “I would have been here sooner, Mandy, but I had to make a quick stop in town.” In ninety-degree heat, in shorts that didn’t quite reach his knees, he knelt on the blazing hot asphalt and pulled a small black velvet box out of his pocket.
    Tears flowed down Amanda’s cheeks as he opened the box. He pulled out a pear-shaped diamond solitaire ring. “Mandy, I’ve been a complete ass. Can you ever forgive me?”
    She punched him in the shoulder. “You know I forgive you. Will you get on with it?”
    He grinned. She held out her left hand and he paused with the ring poised to put it on her finger. “Amanda Elizabeth Stockton, I love you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”
    Yes. Yes. “On one condition.”
    His brows drew up in surprise and he suddenly looked very vulnerable