Crazy for Her (9 page)

Once the two he-men finished their grunting—finally settling on a price that seemed to satisfy them both—Logan whipped out his phone, called his office, and told someone named Barbie to arrange a bank transfer. A few minutes later, the salesman accepted a call from Logan’s bank confirming that the money was on its way. The keys were dropped in her hand, and just like that, she had a new car.

“Jeez, Logan, next time I need something done fast and efficiently, I’m putting you in charge,” she said after the salesman left to put a temporary tag on the Jeep.

No answer, not even a glance at her as he picked up Regan’s carrier and walked out of the office. Dani narrowed her eyes at his back.

In the parking lot, she stared at the sleek black Grand Cherokee Summit, loaded with every option imaginable. It really was a beauty. They moved Regan’s car seat to The Black,
the name Dani decided to give the Jeep. After leaving the keys to Scott’s car with the salesman for her friends to pick up later, Logan slid into the passenger side and strapped himself in.

Dani opened the driver’s door and poked her head in. “Aren’t you driving?”

He stared out his window, giving her the back of his head. “Nope.”

The blasted man had been like this ever since she’d made her daring announcement. It pleased her while at the same time irked her. She had gotten to him, but his resolve to ignore her grated.

“Fine.” She slammed the door and immediately regretted her show of temper and for hurting The Black. “I’m sorry,” she said, and patted the glossy door. Once Regan was safely secured, Dani slid behind the wheel, turned the key, and backed out.

“Where to now, ninja boy?”

She kept her face forward, but watched him from the corner of her eye.

He turned his head toward her. “Ninja boy?”

“Hmm?” All morning, he had warily watched her the way one would a copperhead snake. She considered biting him, but reached over and squeezed his forearm instead. “Oh, thanks for the car. I love it.”

His eyes lowered to her hand, then back up to her face. “Least I could do.”

There were things she wished he’d do. She shifted into drive and eased through the dealership lot. “I don’t want to go home yet. What would you like for lunch?”

“Whatever you feel like.”

Dani stopped the car. “I’m not moving another inch until you adjust your attitude. You’ve been pissy all morning. Enough already.”

His lips thinned and he put his hand on the door handle. He was going to get out. If he did, when he finally made his way back to her house, he was going to find all his clothes and spy toys in a pile in her yard.

“I swear to God, Dani, you’re making me crazy. Just take me to the Harley dealership so I can pick up my bike.”

She bit back a smile. She was getting to him, all right. Evan had been so easygoing, always happy. Whenever she thought of her husband, she thought of peace and comfort, a big, cuddly man who always looked on the bright side of things. Logan was leaner and meaner, a challenge that stirred her blood. Living with him would not be a walk in the park, but it would be damned interesting.

Why was she thinking of living with him? All she wanted from him was a hot affair, and then they would each return to their lives when all of this was over. Her heart gave a painful little flutter, but she ignored it and put her mind to new ways of making Logan crazy.

Logan leaned on the deck rail and took a deep drink of his beer. So all she wanted was a good fuck. Dani wasn’t Lovey Dovey. Somewhere in his brain he knew that. But when she’d leaned over him and made her little announcement, he’d suddenly been fifteen again.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he willed the memory away, refusing to go there. The only good thing to come of that morning was his decision to escape. It was the day he’d decided to join the military as soon as he was old enough. He’d started studying each branch, and when he had read about the SEALs, he made up his mind that he was going to be one.

They were tough. They were dangerous. No one messed with them, especially their mothers.

He’d learned everything he could about the SEALs. For the next three years, whenever he had free time, he practiced the drills. He ran, worked out, swam for miles in the ocean, learned to hold his breath for three minutes while sitting on the seafloor, and two minutes while swimming with a pack on his back. When he turned eighteen, he put Maria in the care of Mrs. Jankowski, and severed all ties with Lovey Dovey.

Good riddance.

He lifted the bottle to his lips, angry he couldn’t get Dani’s words out of his mind. The rational part of his brain knew she didn’t understand the impact of what she’d said, but he still resented her for making him feel like that boy again.

The boy from the wrong side of the tracks had no intention of accommodating Little Miss Rich Girl. If all she wanted from him was a fuck, then she could find someone else. He wanted her too much, loved her too much to be a one-night stand.

Christ, he was royally FUBARed. He couldn’t take less because one taste of her would never be enough, and he couldn’t take all of her because of his honor and respect for a fallen comrade. That was before he even considered the differences in their backgrounds and the whore’s blood pumping through his heart.

The back door opened and Dani poked her head out. “Dinner’s ready.” She disappeared back inside.

Logan sighed. It had been like this between them all day. She didn’t understand why he was acting like an ass, and there was no way he’d ever tell her. Even now, whenever the memory surfaced, he felt dirty. Finishing off his beer, he took a deep breath and willed memories of his mother to hell, where they belonged.

Inside the cabin, he stood in the mudroom and inhaled deeply. Lasagna or spaghetti and garlic bread. He hoped for the former. Another inhale. Apple pie? His mouth watering, he entered the kitchen. If he ever married Dani, he would have to run ten miles twice a day. He gave a slight shake of his head to banish that kind of thinking. Somehow, he had to find a way to wipe the picture of domestic bliss with her from his mind.

“Sit and eat before everything gets cold.”

Logan saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

Brilliant green eyes flashed fire, but she stayed quiet. Logan took his seat and dug into the lasagna with gusto. The garlic bread dripped with butter and never had he tasted better. An extra benefit, there would be no kissing after eating it. He took a moment to consider if that was intentional, but the food was so damn good, he didn’t ponder the question long.

There had been so many years in his life when food had been scarce, sometimes nothing more in the house than a package of hotdogs or bologna. Bread had been an extravagance. If he wanted to eat something besides a cold hotdog, it was up to him to cook. By the age of seven, the kitchen was his territory. Sometimes, he stole money from Lovey Dovey’s johns to buy food when they were too drunk to notice. Other times, he stole from his mother.

Logan pushed his empty plate aside. “That was unbelievably good.”

“Hope you saved room for apple pie and coffee.”

He groaned. “Later.” They had eaten their dinner in silence, and he couldn’t stand it any longer. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I’ve been a jerk today.”

Her gaze narrowed. “You’ve been the biggest asshat today I’ve ever had the displeasure to know.”

Suddenly he felt like laughing. How could he not love a woman who didn’t think twice about giving as good as she got? Lovey Dovey had gotten it all wrong. Cowering, simpering, and acting like a woman without a brain wasn’t the way to go.

His gaze soaked up the woman who didn’t hesitate to knock him down a peg or two. Auburn hair curled around her face and tumbled down past her shoulders. A sharp mind, eyes the color of shamrocks, a splash of freckles across her nose, and a killer body all called to every fiber of his being. Problem was, she was off-limits.

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Not in this lifetime—or even the next—and especially not to her. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m just frustrated is all. I’m spinning in circles with this guy and getting nowhere.” Her eyes searched his, and he didn’t think she believed a word he said.

She shrugged. “We’ll have it your way for now. There’s a ball game on, Cubs and the Braves. Wanna watch it?”

“Only if you’re for the Braves. I’m a Cubbies fan, so I need someone to make fun of when they send Atlanta home with their tail between their legs.”

“Ha, so not happening.”

Halfway through the game, Dani uncurled her legs and propped her feet on the coffee table. Logan noticed there was no color on her toes. Why was that? He had learned to gauge her mood by the color of her polish. What did bare toes mean? A piece of popcorn hit his forehead. He jerked his gaze up to see Dani getting ready to throw another one.

“Why are you staring at my feet like that?”

Grabbing a handful of popcorn from the bowl on his lap, he threw it at her. Her grin was wicked and her eyes glittered with mischief.

“Food fight!” she yelled, and ducked behind her chair, taking her bowl with her. Missiles in the form of popcorn flew his way.

Logan stared at the empty chair. “Exactly how old are you right now, Dani?”

Her head poked up. “You mean right now, this minute?”

He nodded.

“I’d say about five.” She giggled, threw more corn at him, and ducked.

Logan had no idea how to play. Just another thing Lovey Dovey had never taught him. But like everything else he knew how to do, he could damn well learn.

Going into soldier mode, he surveyed his surroundings and decided on a surprise rear attack. With his bowl in the cradle of his arm, he slipped behind the end of the sofa. Her head edged up over the chair, and he tossed some popcorn at her. Delighted laughter flowed from her. When she ducked, he slid the sofa away from the wall and started crawling behind it.

“Where are you?” she called in a singsong voice.

“Right here,” he said from behind her, and dumped the contents of his bowl on her head.

She screamed. He tackled her and had her facedown on the floor before she knew what was happening. Straddling her, he wrapped his hands around her wrists and held them above her head. Leaning down, he pressed his mouth to her ear. “Surrender or bear the consequences.”

Her hysterical laughter caused her butt to jiggle against his groin. Logan managed to suppress a groan, but couldn’t resist the urge to press his lips on the soft white spot below her earlobe. He touched the tip of his tongue to her pulse point and felt the throb of her lifeblood.

She quieted and arched her neck, giving him better access. All the reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this forgotten, he nipped at her skin, then soothed the little red marks with soft kisses. She pushed her bottom against him and wiggled it. So damn good, even with their clothing between them, she felt so damned good.

“Logan?”

He flipped her over. “I’m here.”

Still straddling her, he lowered his mouth to hers. She tasted delicious—like buttered popcorn. Never again would he eat the stuff without thinking of Dani. She slid her hands under his shirt, trailing a path up his sides and over his ribs. Did his skin feel as hot to her as it did to him? Lifting up, he stared down at her. Her lips were moist from his kisses, her eyes were the green of a storm-tossed sea, and he was turning into a damned poet.

“Why are you chuckling?”

Was he? “I want you so bad it hurts.”

“You think that’s funny?”

“So much the opposite that one can’t help but laugh.” Holding her gaze, he pushed her T-shirt up over her bra. Christ, he was doomed. The bra was virginal white and little more than lace—innocence and naughty all in one package. How was he supposed to resist that? He simply couldn’t. Lowering his face to a breast, he sucked lace and nipple into his mouth.

“Oh,” she murmured, drawing the word out.

His cock strained against his jeans and he rubbed it against her. He felt her hands fumbling with the snap on his jeans, and when he reached down to help, the phone and doorbell rang simultaneously.

They both froze.

“Let it ring,” she said.

He didn’t know which she meant, maybe both, but he stood and backed away. Fuck. He’d come too damned close this time, the thread on his control slipping knot by knot. “You get the phone, I’ll get the door.” Turning away, Logan was halfway across the room when he heard the voice on the speakerphone.

“Danielle, I’m coming for you.”

CHAPTER NINE

D
an
i listened to the voice that sounded so much like Evan’s. There had been a time when she’d loved that voice, but no longer. The man on the other end of the phone had taken something precious from her. She clicked off, unable to respond. Instantly, Logan was behind, wrapping her in the safety of his arms.

“What does he mean by he’s coming for me?”

Logan tightened his hold on her. “I won’t let him hurt you.”

Leaning back, she rested her head against his chest and drew on his strength. “Who was at the door?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t make it that far.”

She pulled away and went to the peephole. “It’s the delivery truck with my window.” When she started to unbolt the door, Logan stopped her.

“Let me.” He signed for the packages and carried both in as if they weighed no more than a five-pound bag of potatoes.

“I’ll get the box cutter.”

The antique stained-glass window was as beautiful as she remembered and the mirror just as gaudy. She wasn’t sure which she loved more. Seeing the silhouette of the naked woman, Dani remembered Logan’s suggestion to write a story in which her heroine finds the hero making love to his mistress in front of the mirror. Logan had a mysterious smile on his face as he looked at it. His lashes lifted and he focused on her.

The air crackled, sending shivers up her arms. Was he remembering the scene he’d painted for her? Was he imagining the two of them acting it out?

“Where do you want these?” he asked, breaking their connection.

“In my bedroom.” She got some hooks, and after he hung the stained glass in front of her window and mounted the mirror on the wall, Dani stood back and admired her purchases.

“That has to be the ugliest mirror I’ve ever seen, but there’s something about it.”

There was. “I know. I think it probably once hung in a brothel. Imagine the stories it could tell. I can’t get your idea out of my mind. May have to write it. I’ll call it something like,
The Naked Earl and the Secrets of the Mirror
, or maybe,
The Naughty Earl and the Naked Lady.
The naked lady could refer to all three: the mirror silhouette, the mistress, and his betrothed.”

“I thought only the earl and mistress were naked.”

“Little do you know.”

Something flashed in his eyes. “You have no idea.”

What did that mean? Standing close to him, Dani felt his heat, inhaled his scent, and pushed her feet onto the floor to keep from crawling up his body and wrapping her legs around his hips.

“Well, I guess I’ll call it a night.”

“Dani, about earlier—”

“If you’re going to apologize again, don’t. I swear to God, Logan, don’t you dare.”

His cell rang. He took it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and sighed. “Kincaid,” he said.

She saw the caller ID said Suzanne, but Dani heard the irritation in his voice. So, Slinky Suzanne wasn’t the wall between them. Dani was glad to know it, but if not her, then who? She thought he would leave so he could speak in private, but he didn’t.

While he listened, he walked to the mirror and traced the naked lady’s outline. Transfixed, she watched his finger as it tracked the curve of the silhouette’s breast, down her belly, and then lower. Dani shivered. As if he knew what he was doing to her, he turned his gaze on her while his finger lazily retraced its path. By some kind of osmosis, she felt his touch glide over the same places on her body. Holy moly, she had bought a magic mirror.

“I don’t know when I’ll be home,” he said, breaking the spell. He turned his back and Dani shamelessly listened to his conversation. “How many ways do I need to say there is no us, Suzanne?”

Dani grinned and decided to paint her toenails.

Logan stared at the phone. “Guess she didn’t like that.”

“Mmm? Why’s that?” Sitting on her bed, Dani painted her big toe, then stopped to admire the color.

“She hung up on me.” He sat in the chair, stretched out his legs, and crossed his ankles.

“Does that upset you?”

“Do I look upset?”

Dani tilted her head and studied him. “No, can’t say as you do.”

“What color is that?”

She held a foot up. “Glittering Sunshine. Like it?”

“Not sure I’ve ever seen yellow polish before, but since it means you’re happy, yeah, I do.”

“Why do you say that?”

“What?”

“That it means I’m happy.”

“I finally figured it out, but if I tell you, you’ll stop.”

He seemed right at home lounging in her bedroom. She liked the intimacy of a man sitting in her room, watching her paint her toes. And this one was fascinating. Without doubt, he had demons. His childhood had much to do with his hang-ups, she was sure, and she wanted to know more. Not wanting to spoil his amiable mood, however, she held in her questions.

Finished, she capped the polish, leaned back on her elbows, and wiggled her toes. “So, tell me what you think you’ve figured out.”

“No.”

“I’ll tickle it out of you.”

His eyes glittered with mischief. “You can try.”

She swung her feet over the bed. “You are ticklish, aren’t you?”

“I don’t know.”

“How can you not know?”

He shrugged. “No one’s ever tried.”

The man just kept breaking her heart. Didn’t all mothers tickle their babies? “Well, we’ll have to rectify that.” She stood, but before she could approach him, she heard Regan.

“I’ll get her,” he said, and left.

Dani thought he seemed to welcome the excuse to leave. He obviously resented the chemistry between them, and she was determined to find out why. It wasn’t because of another woman, unless there was someone she didn’t know about. No, if he loved another, he wouldn’t be eyeing her with longing. Logan wasn’t the kind of man who played around. The only explanation he’d given was that it was a matter of honor, but honor to whom? Evan? Whatever his thinking, he held it close. Well, except for the desire he couldn’t hide, which was more obvious than he probably wished.

She was a romance writer, after all, and had trained herself to watch lovers’ eyes. When she and Evan had gone out, sometimes he would tease her about being more interested in the undercurrents of those around them than him. Not true, she’d protested while feeling guilty that sometimes it was true, especially if she was in the middle of a work-in-progress.

What she saw in Logan’s eyes made her want to run to her computer and find the words to capture that hot, I-want-to-devour-you look he turned her way. God, she wanted to explore the possibilities his heated glances promised. For sure, if—no,
when
—it happened, they would burn the sheets to ashes.

As soon as her stalker was caught, Logan would leave. He would always be only a phone call away if she needed him, which was a comfort, but each day she was with him, he grew more captivating. She wanted to learn his secrets, soothe his hurts, but most of all she wanted to make love with him.

Oh yes, Doxy Dani, that was her. She gave one last admiring look at her sparkling yellow toenails and then went to find Logan and her daughter.

The next morning, after dropping Dani off at Jared and Scott’s, Logan made another round of the nearby motels. Although he kept an eye out for the black Ford truck, he thought it likely the man had changed vehicles. After the seventh stop, he decided to give up for the day. A few miles down the road, however, he noticed a seedy motel set back from the road, almost hidden by a secondhand clothing store. What the hell, might as well check it out.

“I’m looking for my brother,” he told the man behind the counter.

Bloodshot eyes distorted by the thickest pair of glasses Logan had ever seen peered back at him. “And I’m Santa Claus.”

Logan ignored the sarcasm and described a bald Evan. Recognition flared in the man’s eyes before he hid it. Logan slid a twenty halfway across the counter, but kept his hand over it. “You have a name for him?”

The man eyed the money. “Would you believe John Smith?”

“I believe that’s the name he registered under, yes. Is he still checked in?”

“Left yesterday.”

Shit. “What kind of car did he drive?”

“Never saw him driving one.”

Logan pulled the twenty back his way.

“Never said I didn’t see a car parked in front of his room.”

He pushed the bill back toward the clerk. “What kind?”

“A white one.”

Tired of the game, Logan pocketed the twenty and turned to leave.

“Ford Taurus. Late model.”

“Anything else you can tell me about him?”

“Would think you’d know him better ’n me, you being his brother and all.”

“Humor me.”

“Didya hear the one about the three ducks that went in—”

Logan grabbed the man’s collar and pulled him halfway across the counter. “I don’t think you’re as stupid as you want me to believe. You know something, and I want to know what.”

“Could be I have a thing for numbers. Let go, and I’ll tell ya.”

Logan left with the license plate number. He considered going to the police department and giving it to Detective Langley, but decided against it. It would be better to have a heads-up on who this character was before involving the police any further.

Seeing a McDonald’s ahead, he pulled into the drive-through, got a hamburger and coffee, and then called Buchanan. After relaying the plate numbers, he asked for an update.

“Turner’s in Dallas, but hasn’t had much luck yet finding anyone who remembers the family before Prescott’s mother supposedly died.”

Logan frowned. “Why do you say ‘supposedly’?”

“So far, we haven’t found a death certificate. When did you say she died?”

“Evan said he was two, so that would be what, twenty-six years ago?”

“Well, we’ve looked for one from the time Prescott was born to several years after and found nothing, but we’ll keep searching.”

“You got a copy of Evan’s birth certificate?” Logan asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Check the hospital records and see if there’s another one.”

“I’m confused. Another one for Prescott?”

Logan hesitated. The idea had been brewing, but he’d yet to put it into words. It sounded crazy, but the feeling was too strong to ignore. “No, for Evan’s twin.”

There was a long pause. “I didn’t know he had one.”

“I’m not sure he did, and if so, I don’t think he knew. You said the fingerprint was very similar to Evan’s, and I did some research. That’s common with twins, and there are some other things that make me think it’s possible. Call me when you know something.”

Logan clicked off and scanned the area. There were two white Taurus cars in the parking lot. Why couldn’t Dickhead drive a purple Caddy? Crumbling up the hamburger wrapper, he stuck it and his empty cup in the sack. He’d done as much as he could for the day, so he headed to Jared and Scott’s.

Although he kept an eye on the rearview mirror, his thoughts turned to Dani. Christ, he’d almost taken her on the floor—on a bed of popcorn, no less. His intention to be honorable was seriously at risk. Next time it happened, he needed to think of Mrs. Jankowski, and how disappointed she would be if he broke her number-one rule and screwed his best friend’s wife.

That damned mirror of Dani’s—the way her eyes had darkened and her breath had hitched when he’d traced the nude woman’s silhouette—had him wanting things. Things he’d managed to suppress for a very long time. And when she’d painted her toes the color of sunshine, unknowingly signaling she was happy, dangerous thoughts had crept into his mind. Dangerous to him anyway.

Claim Dani, make her his, and never let her go.

Yet, if he did, he’d have to face Mrs. Jankowski. From the day he’d received his first high mark in math and gotten a smothering hug from her—the first embrace of his memory—he’d begun to set goals. Get good grades, make Mrs. Jankowski happy. Work hard at the store, make Mrs. Jankowski happy. Be an honorable man, make Mrs. Jankowski happy and get a hug. Because of his self-appointed foster mother, he’d finally realized he could be more than Lovey Dovey had ever allowed him to believe.

His debt to Mrs. Jankowski was more than he could ever repay. If not for her, he would not be the man he was today, would likely be in prison. He had to decide between his love for Dani and failing the only woman who had been a steadying influence in his life. Mrs. Jankowski had, knowingly or unknowingly, set the bar high, and he suddenly had one question.