Crazy for Her (11 page)

“All right, I’ll get it for you after dinner.” Was it a good thing for him to read it? Would it help him understand that even when the worst happens, life does go on, or would it make his remorse worse?

Logan put the enchiladas on the plates, glad he had an excuse to keep his back to Dani. All the guilt he’d managed to smother the last few days came screaming back with the force of a ballistic missile. If he’d brought Evan safely home, she wouldn’t have had to write their daughter a daddy book, and what about Regan? The little girl he was growing to love would never know Evan, never hear that deep laugh of his, never listen to him tell one of his stupid jokes. Earlier, when he’d whispered to Regan that he was sorry for not bringing her daddy home and she’d patted his face, it had felt like she was forgiving him. He’d almost lost it then.

He desperately wanted Evan’s girls: He wanted Dani for his wife and longed to step into the role of father to Regan. Not an admirable thing to want another man’s family, nor did he deserve them.

“Anything I can do?”

The question confused him. There was nothing she could do to make it right.

“You’re staring at that plate as if you’re not pleased with it. It looks good to me, actually so good, my mouth’s watering.”

She meant dinner, and he sighed in relief. The longing in her eyes when she spoke of Evan tore at his heart. If he tried to explain his guilt, she’d just blow him off again, tell him he mustn’t think such things. She could never understand the bone-deep responsibility he’d felt for his team, how not keeping Evan safe for her was something for which he couldn’t forgive himself.

If he didn’t shake off his dark thoughts, though, she’d start to question him and he’d have to lie, so he leaned over and sniffed, catching the scent of flowers.

“You smell nice.”

“Gardenia-scented shampoo. Are we going to eat this or just stand here and admire it?”

The way she changed her toenail colors and shampoos fascinated him. If she were his, he would spend half his time wondering how she would smell or what color her toes would be next. He shook off the thought and picked up the plates. Dani refilled his glass and brought it to the table.

“You’ve gone quiet. Did talking about the book upset you?”

“I’m fine. Eat your dinner,” he said, and forced himself to take a bite. It was undoubtedly good, but to him it tasted like sawdust.

A drawn-out sigh followed her first bite. “My God, Logan, this is amazing.” She glanced at the casserole dish. “Oh goody, there’s enough left for lunch tomorrow.”

“Thanks. It’s one of the few dishes Maria will eat. Probably because it’s got so much cheese in it.”

“You said she eats junk food. What does she like?”

“Loaded chili dogs, fried bologna sandwiches, and corndogs are her favorites.”

“Seriously?”

“I kid you not. I’ve put food from every country in the world in front of her, and all I hear is, ‘Why can’t you just fry me up some bologna?
’
”

“If that’s all she wants, can’t she make it herself?”

“Maria and fire don’t mix. One night I made an elaborate meal, I don’t remember what now, but when she turned up her nose, I gave up. Told her I was done and she could cook for herself. The next night when she finally realized I meant it, she tried to make dinner. Almost burned the damned place down.”

Her eyes glittered in amusement. “I’d like to meet her.”

Logan glanced at his empty plate. When had he finished it? He grinned at the woman who had the ability to make him forget he was eating sawdust. “That’s good to know because you’ll meet her Tuesday night.”

“I will? She’s coming here?”

He hadn’t meant to bring this up yet. “Tell you what. I’ll clean up while you make us a pot of coffee. Then grab the baby monitor and we’ll sit on the deck and talk.”

“Okay. Thanks for making dinner, by the way. It really was delicious.”

“My pleasure,” he said, and meant it. He enjoyed cooking for her. When they got to Pensacola, he would make her his specialty, seafood paella.

While she checked on Regan, Logan stacked the dishwasher and then went to his room to get his gun. He carried their coffee out back and put the cups and gun on the table. It was dark, and if Dickhead was out there, there was no way of knowing. Hopefully the man was holed up in his motel room for the night.

Settling in a chaise longue, Logan stretched out his legs. It was a beautiful night, and he leaned his head back and looked at the stars. Dani came out, and instead of taking the longue on the other side of the table, she sat between his legs and leaned back against his chest.

He tensed. “What are you doing?”

“Getting comfortable.”

She arranged an afghan over her legs, her bottom wiggling against his crotch as she did so. Jesus. She was killing him, but his cock liked it. A lot. Logan gritted his teeth and waited for her to get settled. Her gardenia-scented shampoo was nice, but he liked the apple pie one best. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t used that one, though. He’d probably be licking her by now.

When she reached for her coffee, she noticed the gun. “I keep forgetting.”

“That’s okay as long as you’re with me, but if I’m not nearby, you need to remember to be on guard.”

“It’s funny, until you came, I didn’t forget at all. You make me feel safe.”

He gave up on not touching her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her head. “I will always keep you safe, Dani.” Or die trying.

She put her hand over his. “I know. Now, tell me about Maria coming to visit.”

So much trust she put in him. It was unnerving and scared the hell out of him. What if he failed? What if no matter his precautions, the man somehow managed to get to her? He had to make sure that didn’t happen because it would destroy him.

“Logan? Hello.”

She twisted and peered at him. Before coming out, he’d opened the curtains in the kitchen so they’d have some light. Green eyes gazed at him, and when her lips parted, he couldn’t help himself. Putting his hand under her chin, he lowered his mouth to hers.

Her soft sigh undid him. He deepened the kiss, loving the taste of her, the feel of her lips against his. When he ran his tongue over her lips, she parted them, her tongue reaching for his.

For almost three years, he’d fantasized about kissing her, about touching her, making love to her. It had been his guilty secret. His imagination had been seriously inadequate.

The last thing he wanted to do was stop, but if he didn’t now, he wouldn’t be able to. If there came a time when they made love, he wanted to know it was the right thing to do. There would be no regrets for either of them. And if it did happen, it would be because she was his.

He reluctantly pulled away. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

She gave him a cross look. “You’re a tease, Logan Kincaid.”

That startled a laugh out of him. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be, but we need to talk, and if we keep this up, I’m going to forget everything I need to tell you.”

“All right,” she grumbled, and picked up her cup. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath and plunged in, fully expecting a battle. “Maria’s not coming here. We’re going to Pensacola. I have some things I need to take care of, and I’m not leaving you and Regan here by yourselves.” He waited for the eruption.

She set down her coffee and turned around on her knees to face him, her eyes alight with excitement. “Cool, when do we leave?”

Would she ever stop surprising him? “Tuesday night. That’ll give you two days to pack and get ready.”

“Awesome. I’m going to start now. It’ll take me two days to decide what to pack. Oh, this is so exciting.” She smacked him on the lips and was off before he could blink.

Logan chuckled. That had gone better than expected. It was getting harder and harder to resist her, and he needed to talk some things over with Mrs. Jankowski. When he made love to Dani—if it happened—it would be at his house where a picture of Evan wasn’t next to her bed.

Maybe he was being stupid. Maybe if he’d had a normal mother, he wouldn’t be so afraid of turning out like her. Lovey Dovey had tried her best to drag him into the gutter with her. When he’d resisted, she had sneered and made fun of him for putting on airs, calling him Mr. Hoity-Toity. What was it she’d said more than once in a fit of anger—
blood will tell
? She hadn’t seemed to grasp the irony that they shared the same blood.

There had come a time when he’d almost proved her right, a night he tried his best to forget. He did have bad blood in him, so he’d kept a tight leash on his urges.

It was the reason he was still a virgin.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

L
ogan returned to his room and found Dani’s book for Regan on his pillow. He stared at it, wanting to snatch it up and devour every one of her words, yet couldn’t bring himself to touch it. How long he stood there looking at it, he didn’t know.

To put off reading the book, he showered, brushed his teeth, and shaved. He packed even though they weren’t leaving for two days, called Buchanan, called Mrs. Jankowski, called Maria. When he could think of nothing else to do, he settled back on the pillows of his bed and picked up the book. As he held it in his hands, he feared Dani’s words would revive the regret and guilt at the death of his friend. This was going to kill him, but he turned to the first page and began to read.

Reaching the last page, he read the words Dani had chosen to end the story, and then read them again.

Every night before going to sleep, Regan went to her window and searched the night sky until she found the brightest star. “Good night, Daddy,” she would whisper. That night, when she turned for bed, she stopped and looked back at the star. “I know you would have loved me. I know you are in heaven and watching out for me. Mommy has told me all about you. I love you, Daddy, but your jokes were really silly.”

Logan laughed. “No shit, Evan, your jokes really were bad.”

He sucked in a breath, realizing he’d just laughed for the first time when thinking of Evan. Though written for a child, the story had drawn him in. Dani had dealt with the subject of death in a straightforward, poignant manner. It was a story of hope and love, one of acceptance. In a way he didn’t understand, her words eased his heart. He flipped back until he found the page he wanted.

Regan’s mommy tapped her heart. “Your daddy lives here, in your heart. He’s with you every day and always will be. I’ll tell you stories about him. I’ll tell you all his silly jokes because I want you to know how wonderful and funny he was. I have a present for you.”

She handed Regan a beautiful jeweled-top box. “This will be your Daddy Memory Box, and we’ll write down all the things you don’t want to forget and put them in it. They will be memories of your daddy you can treasure forever.”

Regan took the box from her mother and opened it. “It’s empty,” she said.

Her mommy nodded. “Yes, that’s because it’s up to you to decide what to put in it.”

“I want to put something in it right now. I want to put a silly daddy joke in it,” Regan said.

“All right. How about this one. It was one of Daddy’s favorites. Why isn’t your nose twelve inches long?”

Regan shook her head. “I give up.”

“Because it would be a foot!”

Logan smiled and traced the words of the joke with a finger. Treasured memories. He had his own Evan memories and bad Evan jokes, although the ones Evan delighted in telling the team were not printable in a children’s book.

What was it she’d said? He searched for the page.

“Daddy wouldn’t want us to be sad, Regan. He didn’t want to leave us, but he did, and it would hurt him if he knew we didn’t learn how to be happy again.”

It was the honest-to-God truth. If Evan knew Logan blamed himself for his death—that the guilt was eating him alive—his friend would be royally pissed, would probably beat the shit out of him on general principle. Putting the book aside, he stood and went to the window, searching the sky until he found the brightest star.

Evan’s last words had been to make Logan promise to take care of his wife and child. “I wish you’d been more specific about just how far I could take that promise, Cowboy.”

Feeling silly talking to a star, he turned away, but like the girl in the story, he stopped and turned back. “I’ll never let your daughter forget you, my friend.”

Logan’s plan to sneak Dani and Regan out of Asheville was simple. They invited Jared and Scott over for drinks and appetizers on the back deck. Throughout the next two hours, each of them made several trips in and out of the house.

If Dickhead was out there, Logan wanted to lull him into believing they were either going to the bathroom or refreshing drinks. Halfway through the evening, Scott left and snuck the suitcases out the front, putting them in his car.

At nine, Logan judged it was dark enough. “It’s time, Dani. Get Regan and get in the car.”

“I feel like I’m in a James Bond movie.” She giggled and reached for her glass.

“No,” he said, “leave it here, like you’re coming back.”

“Right, Double-O-Seven. Leave the glass.” Giving another chuckle, she walked inside.

“I think your girl’s a little nervous, Logan,” Jared observed.

“Can’t say I blame her,” Scott said. “It’s really spooky knowing some creep’s watching you.”

Logan’s hands fisted. “And when I find him, he’s going to wish he never heard her name. Listen, I’ve given you his description, so both of you be extra alert. I don’t think he’ll bother you, but once he realizes she’s missing, I don’t know how he’ll react. You’ve got my cell number. If anything happens, no matter how insignificant you think it is, call me.”

“When will you be back?” Scott asked.

Logan hadn’t told them where they were going, and both seemed smart enough not to ask. He saw no reason not to answer Scott’s question. “Not sure yet. Regan has an appointment with her pediatrician a week from Thursday, so we’ll be back in time for that.”

“I don’t much like the idea of a cult involved in this,” Jared said.

“That makes two of us.” Logan stood. “You both know what to do.” He picked up his empty glass, walked inside, and set it on the table. Grabbing the ball cap that matched the one Jared wore, he put it on, walked out of the house, and got into the passenger side of the car.

“You okay back there?” he asked.

“Yes, sir, Double-O-Seven, over and out,” Dani answered from her prone position on the backseat.

He grinned. “You do know where all Bond’s girls end up, don’t you?”

“Oh yeah.”

From the way she sighed her answer, Logan thought he just might lose his virginity in Pensacola. Long ago, he had made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t sleep with a woman he didn’t love. He’d been tempted to break the vow many times since then, but the boy who was determined to be a better man had stood fast.

Well, both he and the boy were in love with the woman he was taking home with him, so he prayed it was finally going to happen, please God. He still had to talk to Mrs. Jankowski, but he was beginning to believe that if he and Evan had thought to have a conversation about Dani’s future should something happen, Evan would have slapped him on the back and said, “I trust you to do right by her.”

Scott walked out of the cabin, and Logan ducked his head, keeping his eyes closed when the overhead light came on. As soon as the door closed and darkness descended again, he opened them and peered out into the night. No hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he was confident they’d gotten away with their ruse.

Scott sat there a few seconds, then started the car. “Now what?”

Logan refrained from rolling his eyes. “Now you drive us to the airport.”

Dani considered herself a world traveler. From as far back as she could remember, she’d flown here and there with her parents, always in first class on a commercial airliner. But as she looked around the lush interior of the Learjet Logan had chartered, she—used to what money could buy—was impressed.

How the hell could he afford it? Somehow, she would have to find a way to reimburse him without wounding his pride. Whatever the cost, it would be worth it to see Logan’s home, to meet the people who mattered to him. She peered out the jet’s window at the twinkling lights thousands of feet below.

The question she kept asking herself with no clear answer reared up again. What did she want from him? At first, it had been to keep her and Regan safe. She had no doubt he could do that.

But did she want to have an affair with him? Yes. God yes. Without her understanding how, she’d started thinking she wanted more. But what did that mean? Was she thinking long term?

She could almost see them growing old together. Deep in her heart, she knew Evan would approve. Her husband had always wanted nothing more than for her to be happy. She could have been happy with him forever, but he had left her—had gone and died.

Sometimes she resented him for that. He could have left the SEALs before that last mission, as his six years were up. Yet, because his team needed him, he’d reenlisted even after she’d told him she might be pregnant. Well, she’d needed him, too, but that hadn’t seemed to matter.

“We’re flying over Montgomery,” Logan said.

“How do you know?” His mouth was inches from hers as he leaned forward to peer out the window. If she turned her head, their lips would meet. Her heart did a funny little flutter, the way it had when she was first falling in love with Evan. She resisted the urge to kiss him.

“By the position of the stars.”

He sat back in his seat and she missed his warmth. “I don’t believe you. Fess up, you’re just guessing.”

That earned her an amused chuckle. Opening his hand, he showed her the GPS. He slipped it into the magazine pouch in front of him and then gestured at Regan. “She travels well.”

Dani glanced at her sleeping daughter. “I thought we’d be going commercial and was worried she would be one of those babies everyone wants to throw out of the plane because they won’t stop crying.”

He touched Regan’s hand and she grasped his finger. “That was one reason I chartered a flight.”

His eyes softened when Regan’s little fingers wrapped around his.
He would make a good father
. Where did these thoughts keep coming from? Was she falling for him? It wasn’t what she had thought she wanted. Even though he was no longer a SEAL, from what she understood, his company had government contracts. Did he go on secret missions? She had no wish to relive the agony of kissing a man good-bye and then sitting home praying he would return safely. She just couldn’t do it again.

“You’ve gone away. What are you thinking?”

She jerked her gaze to his. “I was wondering exactly what your company does.”

“This and that,” he said with a shrug.

“Such as?”

Maybe he saw the determination in her eyes, because he sighed. “Mostly consulting with companies on security, everything from teaching a CEO’s driver evasive tactics to how to protect their computers from hackers, both domestic and foreign.”

She could live with that, but what wasn’t he telling her? “And the government, what do you do for them? Are you involved in any black ops?”

His eyes shuttered. “I’ll take you on a tour of K2 Special Services while we’re in Pensacola.”

Nothing like evading her question. She would let it go for now, but not for long. “I assume the K is for Kincaid, but why the 2?”

“Stands for two Kincaids. Maria’s shown an interest, and I’m hoping she’ll come on board after she graduates law school.”

It was humbling to think of the two children who’d defied the odds and made something of themselves. Having been born into money and sheltered from the darker side of life, her childhood had been the polar opposite. Her parents donated large sums of money to their favorite charities, held and attended fund-raising events for the less fortunate. It now seemed ironic those occasions usually involved black ties and glittering gowns, champagne and caviar. Had any of those fat checks signed by diamond-clad fingers made a difference in someone’s life the way Mrs. Jankowski had?