Logan hoped the paparazzi would want to take a day off and enjoy the holiday. But from the reports he was getting from Caleb, they were lined up along the gates taking pictures of people driving in.

Whatever. They could take all the photos they wanted—at the gate. That was as far as they were getting.

He’d gone into the house to grab an iced tea, then got waylaid by several instructions from Martha, who needed him to carry a few things outside. By the time he found his glass of tea again, an hour had passed and the ice had melted. Plus, he was sweaty, so he went upstairs to wash off the sweat and change his shirt.

He made his way back downstairs and heard Des’s voice, his lips curving as he remembered the way she’d cried out as he thrust into her last night.

Since getting a hard-on with a house full of people would be a bad idea, he cleared his mind of thoughts of a naked Des, blew out a breath, and found her and Colt in the kitchen with Martha, some of Martha’s friends, and a few people he didn’t know.

Des looked gorgeous today, wearing two tank tops, very short-shorts, and tennis shoes. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she wore a couple of long necklaces. He wanted to drag her up to his bedroom and have his way with her for about six damn hours.

Or longer.

“Oh, there you are, Logan,” Martha said, giving him a warm smile. “I was wondering if you were hiding from me so I wouldn’t give you something else to do.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that. What do you need?”

Martha looped her arm in his. He could tell she was happy and relaxed, instead of jittery or nervous. This was Martha’s day to shine. “I don’t need anything, but Colt and Desiree brought some friends along. Would you two like to introduce them to Logan?”

Des eyed him warily. He had no idea what that was about, but she was a woman, and as such, he knew they were subject to moods.

“Logan,” Colt said, “these are our friends from L.A. This is Tony, Callie, and Sarah.”

Logan shook all their hands. “Nice to meet all of you. Welcome to the ranch.”

“It’s an amazing ranch, Logan,” Callie said. “Just driving over here from the set was an incredible view.”

“Des tells us you have like . . . forty thousand acres or so?” Sarah asked.

“Somewhere around that, yeah.”

“You must love living on so much land,” Tony said.

“It’s all I know, since I grew up here. But yeah, it’s my way of life, so I love what I do.”

“I can imagine,” Tony said. “Beef cattle? Angus?”

“Yeah. You know cattle?”

“I was raised on a farm in North Dakota, so yeah. I sure miss the openness of the land. Would you mind a short tour? If you’re too busy, I’d understand.”

Logan accepted the glass of iced tea Martha handed him. “I’ve got some time for that. Let’s head outside.”

“Oh, my God. Look at all these dogs,” Sarah said.

Des smiled as Sarah dropped and petted all the ranch dogs. She had to join in, too, and so did everyone else.

“The dogs are really popular,” Logan said to Tony.

“We love animals. Most of us live in tiny condos or apartments and don’t have dogs or cats. So it’s nice to have a big spread like this—and lots of animals to love on. I miss being around them.”

“I couldn’t imagine not having animals around. I guess because I grew up with them,” Logan said.

After everyone was finished with the dogs, they moved on down the road, though the dogs followed.

Des watched as Logan bonded with Tony, unable to help the smile that broke out on her face as she listened to him talk cattle-ranch operations. The rest of them followed behind, Des admiring the way Logan’s jeans fit his most spectacular butt, the way his scuffed boots looked as he walked like he was such a part of the land. His T-shirt stretched tight across his muscled back, making her itch to run her hands over his naked skin.

“Oh. My. God,” Callie said as they meandered along several feet behind Logan and Tony. “You did not tell me Logan was so friggin’ hot.”

Des’s lips curved. “I didn’t know I was supposed to.”

“Please tell me you have zero interest in him and I can hit on him immediately,” Callie said.

“Screw that,” Sarah said. “I’ll fight you for him, Callie.”

Des had no idea how to respond to that. “I guess you’re welcome to try.”

“I think what Des is trying to tell you is that you can try, but she’s wearing him down almost nightly by screwing his brains out.”

Des shot Colt a look, laughing as she answered him. “That is not at all what I’m trying to say. And besides, it’s not every night.”

“Aha!” Callie said. “I knew it. Damn you, girl. He is smokin’.”

Her gaze tracked to Logan, who leaned against the fence talking to Tony. “He is, isn’t he?”

And for as long as she remained on this movie shoot, he was hers.

At least she’d try to make sure it stayed that way. She supposed today would be a good opportunity to check the temperature of Hope, see if any other woman had put a claim on him. If not, great. If so . . .

Huh. She had no idea what she’d do about that, because they’d never once discussed their relationship, they didn’t really have a relationship, had never even gone out on a date, which meant she couldn’t really call Logan hers.

That kind of sucked. But that was the nature of her job and the types of relationships she built when she traveled so much. She couldn’t very well expect Logan to enter into an exclusive relationship with her when in less than two months she’d be gone. That would be a ridiculous request. He was free to see whomever he wanted to. And so was she.

The problem was, she only wanted to see him. At least right now. And while she was only seeing him, she’d be damned if she wanted him to see anyone else.

So how the hell was she supposed to broach the subject with him? It wasn’t like he enjoyed deep, meaningful conversations. Especially about relationships.

Maybe she should just let things between them go unsaid. Though Des wasn’t much for letting things go unsaid. It went against her nature. If she had something on her mind, she usually blurted it out. Things that went unsaid had a tendency to fester and get ugly later. Her mother was always the quiet, keep-your-feelings-to-yourself kind of person. Which is why she’d allowed her father to move her twelve times in thirty years.