Pauline's POV
The sharp crack of wood splitting filled the morning air, but my mind was reeling from what I'd just heard. Logan planned to stay here? In our pack?
"I'll chop more firewood," Logan announced, his voice carrying a casual confidence that suggested he was already settling in.
His tone made it clear he felt at home here, and that thought sent irritation shooting through me.
Ginny turned toward me with a bright smile, adjusting her apron strings. "I'm going to start breakfast for everyone," she said cheerfully, then glanced at Logan. "He's offered to get the fire going for me."
My eyes immediately dropped to the shirt hanging loosely from his shoulder. Sweat glistened across his bare chest from the woodcutting, and I silently cursed myself for noticing how his muscles moved beneath his skin.
When he caught me staring, his eyes widened slightly. He quickly pulled the shirt over his head. "Sorry," he said, his voice husky. "Got overheated. This shirt is way too small."
