Mad Enough to Marry - By Christie Ridgway Page 0,19

go, gritted his teeth and accepted it as his due for the disaster that night became eleven years ago, but he couldn't accept the **not good enough" part.

Not that, by God, He didn't deserve that thrown at him and he couldn't let her think for another hour that it was true.

As soon as he had his temper back under control he'd speak to her again. It was time to discuss what had happened. He should have initiated the conversation weeks and weeks ago, he thought wearily. Maybe then the tension between them wouldn't have risen to this degree.

He took a breath, let it out slowly, then dried his dripping face with a towel. But it was going to be okay. Better than okay, once he cleared the air between them. He would feel like himself and once again peace would prevail in his world.

Elena took her sweet time answering his knock at her door. He remained patient though, even trying to look pleasant when she inched it open.

He had a view of the tip of her nose and half of one blue eye. **May I come in?" he asked.

*lt's late.'*

At that, he considered just shoving her purse through the crack in the door and giving up on explanations. But ah-eady his tension was coiUng again and he was so unaccustomed to feeUng this wired that he knew he'd never get any sleep unless he got the wcwds inside him out first.

*Tlease let me in," he said, trying to sound calm. '*I have your purse and some things to get off my chest."

The door opened slowly and he stepped inside. The groceries were already put away and those papers and envelopes he'd earUer seen in her tote bag were spread across a card table in the dining area. **You have more work tonight?"

**Requests for applications for the fall semester. I never seem to get them all mailed out unless I bring some home every night." She'd changed out of her dress and was wearing low-slung plaid flannel pants that were cinched around her hips and a T-shirt short enough to reveal a half-inch of skin at her belly.

Pajamas? He shied away from the thought and watched her sit back at the card table then expertly trifold two double-sided papers and sUde them into an envelope. She set it aside and picked up another set of pages.

Logan hung her purse on a hook by the door and then walked to the card table. Curling his hand on the back of one of the metal folding chairs drawn up to

it, he watched her stuff another envelope. *'Will you cut my head off if I sit down and help?"

She sUd him a look, then one shoulder Ufted in a shrug. ''Earlier, with the groceries, I should have been more gracious. Fm... sorry.' *

Her apology should have eased his mood, but still somethmg pumped just below the surface of his skin. Maybe because of that glimpse of her taut Uttle belly, he decided. Or because he still had his own sorry to get through.

Ignoring the feeUng, he sat down and pulled a stack of envelopes and appUcations in front of him. ''There's not a trick to this, is there?"

She shook her head, then watched him fumble through his first attempt. When he was done, she continued looking at him, her forehead creased. "Really. You don't have to do this. I can manage without your help."

She didn't sound mad this time, just puzzled, and it was an easier emotion to confront. "I know that," he said. "But you need to know something too. There's no reason to throw my offers of aid back in my face or even make elaborate bargains in order to take what's freely given."

She bUnked at him. "You mean you'll allow me to stay here without letting you keep Elena in BedT^

Fm an idiot, he thought. / walked right into that one. "No," he repUed flatly. "The painting stays where it is."

She sniffed, that one little sound letting him know what she thought of him.

His tension tightened a notch and he worked hard not to let it show. Reasonable, he reminded himself. Rational. * 'Elena, sometimes you make it damn hard for a guy to do you a good turn."

Her gaze was on the papers she was folding. **Maybe Vm out of practice. Not all that many have come my way."

"Guys or good turns?" The first he wouldn't believe; he didn't know about the second.

**What Fm trying to say is that I'm