Free The Long Road Home by Cheyenne Meadows

entered in his phone number, then repeated the action on his own device. "There you go." He stuffed his phone back into his jacket pocket and met her gaze.
    She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Take it easy."
    "Will do." He leaned in for one more, brief meeting of lips, then sat back and opened his passenger door. "Talk to you soon."
    "I'll be waiting." She watched him stand, gain his balance with a firm grip on the door, then walk into the terminal.
    She sighed with a hint of loneliness, then pulled out of the drop-off lane and headed home.

Chapter 16
     
    Logan glanced at the clock, palmed his phone, and punched in a number. She answered on the second ring. "Hello?"
    "Gwen?"
    "Logan! Did your parents make it in okay?"
    He could hear the smile in her voice. The fact she responded so cheerfully to his call sent a warm glow over him. "Yeah, they did. We got home about three hours ago. How about you? Any problems driving home?"
    "Nope. The roads actually improved the farther away from New York. There's still some ice here, but nothing like what you guys had there. My clocks were still right, so I don't think I lost power at all."
    "Good." He had worried about her driving on slick roads for such a distance.
    "So, how's it going with your parents?"
    He read between the lines with her questions. Smart and quick, she deduced his parents hadn't seen his injury and wondered how they would accept his disability. "Okay, I guess. Mom is already fretting over me. Dad is supportive but not saying a whole lot."
    She puffed out a breath of air. "Sounds a bit tense there."
    He shrugged, then realized she couldn't see the gesture. "A little bit, I guess. They're afraid to ask questions, I think. Unsure how to even broach the subject."
    "Have you considered tossing the topic out for discussion?"
    "Not really." Reliving the explosion and talking about his loss sat at the bottom of his conversation list. He much preferred to shove everything to the back of his mind and not dwell on the traumatic event, though sometimes the images snuck back out, especially at night.
    "It might help. I'm sure they're treading lightly, not wanting to say anything that might sound offensive. At the same time, they aren't sure how you'll take their questions or comments."
    He plopped down on his bed and rubbed absently at his thigh. She had a point. As much as he didn't want to talk about it, the tension in the house proved frustrating and annoying. The last thing he wanted to do was regret this time with his parents because of his cowardice in avoiding the subject. Suck it up, soldier.
    He took a deep breath and made a decision. "True. Might as well bite the bullet and get the difficult stuff out of the way."
    "Sounds like a good plan to me. If you get it over with, things might settle back down. Heck, if all else fails, I'm sure there's another two dozen cookies hiding in the cookie jar."
    He smiled, remembering how many Christmas cookies they'd baked the first night. Oodles and gobs, definitely. "There was one interesting moment already."
    "Really?"
    "Yep. Mom found the condoms you gave me sitting on the coffee table."
    Gwen gasped in the phone. "Oh, no."
    "Oh, yes. She held them up and asked what kind of friend I had over for the holidays." He chuckled. "You should have seen her face. A combination of horror and relief, I think."
    "What did your father say?"
    "He grinned, slapped me on the back, and said 'way to go, son.'"
    A giggle carried through the line. "Good grief. What they must think, especially since those were extra large and candy cane striped."
    He knew a blush had to cover her face and wished he were there to see it. "Well, Dad was impressed by the size and colors. I swear he pocketed one of them for closer inspection later after I told him they were supposed to be flavored as well."
    "Your mother…?"
    "Asked what in the world you did for a living. I told her you're a condom tester. Her mouth gaped open, and she finally managed words. Dad