safer ground.
"Booby-trapped is right." Logan went to pour a lime seltzer and offer it to her.
When she shook her head, he sipped it thoughtfully. "It wasn't your fault, not really.
You did tell me the zipper was broken."
"Truce, then?" she asked.
"Sure… if you tell me whether you're wearing the red or the black—"
"In your dreams, Kilgarven."
"Right," he said. "Definitely. Can't blame a guy for trying, though. How about lunch?"
"I can't," Melody said, pondering his response. Definitely? Was he dreaming about her the way she had been dreaming about him? She grinned, her spirits uplifted by the possibility. "Sorry, I already have a lunch date."
Logan raised a brow. "Okayyy."
"Don't you want to know who I'm lunching with?"
He turned to shuffle the papers on his desk, pretending disinterest, Melody thought. "Your dates are your business," he said.
"Big of you."
He stopped and gave her a cocky grin. "Hey, I'm a big guy. Anytime you want proof…"
"Proof, I can get elsewhere."
That threw him.
Her turn to smile. "I'm lunching with Nikky."
"Shit!"
MELODY did not return before Logan closeted himself in with Max Peabody, the station owner, and his daughter Tiffany, an educated, cultured young woman with a calm, finishing school polish. A perfect turn of events, Logan thought. He needed a new focus, and an education major could be just the ticket.
Logan gave Tiffany a genuine smile and listened to her enthusiastic, if entry-level ideas on how to promote The Kitchen Witch .
It didn't bother him that Melody had a lunch date. He wouldn't care if she said she dated one of the crew, but the fact that she planned to swap stories with Nik had thrown him. Sure, he and Nik had shared a blazing, mutually agreeable, no-strings…
hot and sweaty bout of sex. Okay, so several bouts, which only revealed a healthy sex drive on both their parts. No problem, no looking back. Melody should try it sometime. Several times. With him. Hey, Nik might be piquing Mel's interest right now. Logan grinned.
Tiffany bristled just enough to draw his attention.
"What?" Logan said.
His mind had been drifting while she had been talking. Oops. Logan hoped he'd at least kept her in his sights.
Hey, what was with the gleam in Max's eye?
"So," Tiffany said. "You'll come, then?"
"Sure… but you'll have to remind me of the details closer to the date." Logan took a chance with ambiguity… and got away with it, apparently.
He didn't know what his problem was. Peabody's daughter was attractive and available. She seemed honestly to enjoy his company, and she must like children, or she wouldn't have studied early childhood education. Logan figured he should take her out for his son's sake, if not for his own, but he couldn't seem to come to the point of asking.
Perhaps he could start slow and offer to walk her to the elevator, but he kept blanking on her name. Once, he nearly called her Melody.
As the meeting dragged, Logan's gaze strayed to the clock more often than it should. Not that he was anxious to see Mel; he just wanted to know what Nik said.
As it happened, finding out had to wait, because the next time he saw Mel, she was standing in the parking garage, outside day care, Shane's hand in hers.
They looked good, as if they belonged together, her and Shane, laughing and chatting, and he was an idiot, Logan thought. Melody would never stay around for the long haul. She was made of glitz and sparkle, bright as magic itself, smoke and mirrors, a flash in the pan.
His son was simply enjoying the show. Any kid would.
Mel was like a sea squall—made of nothing but air, but mighty powerful all the same.
Tiffany was more like a spring day, a staying kind of woman, smart, nurturing, stable, a keeper. Tiffany would make a good mother, a good… wife? Logan guessed he'd have to think about that.
Okay, so maybe he enjoyed Melody's magic as much as Shane did. She was sweet, her laugh a treat, but she was also flighty, unable to hold a job,
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