Logan shrugged and took a sip of water. When he placed the glass back on the table, he said, “You’re my friend.”
That surprised me. “Yeah?”
He gave me a lazy grin, and something rippled low in my belly in response to it. “Yes.”
Shoving away that ludicrous reaction to him, I gave a huff of laughter. “Who would have thought?”
“Certainly not me. I was pretty sure you were a shrew.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You were no picnic either, Logan MacLeod.”
He grinned again, and it occurred to me I’d seen him smile more in the last few days than I had the entire time I’d known him. “I’ve missed that,” he said.
“What?”
“You saying my full name in exasperation.”
I giggled. “I don’t think you’ll have time to miss it. I’m pretty sure you’ll be hearing it again soon.”
“Stop changing the subject.”
“I didn’t!”
“Someone did.”
“It wasn’t me.”
He gave me a low-lidded no-nonsense look. “Why don’t you talk to your family?”
Trying for nonchalant when I felt anything but, I rolled my eyes. “My mother is cold and my father is distant. I didn’t like life in London with them, so I left them behind for a real family here in Edinburgh. End of story. Okay?”
He was quiet a moment. I didn’t know if he was processing that information or gearing up for more questions… and then he surprised me again. “Thank you, Grace.”
“For what?”
It was his turn to give a huff of incredulous laughter. “For everything.”
Just like that I found myself locked in his gaze. The air around us seemed to thicken until I was feeling a little breathless. My skin was flushed and I felt a shiver skate down my neck, following a tingling path around my back to my breasts.
Logan’s eyes darkened with heat.
“Unfortunately” – our waitress appeared at our booth, and I practically jumped out of my skin – “we don’t have any more of the…”
I wasn’t listening to whatever she was saying to Logan. I was too busy wondering what the hell had just happened.
The waitress broke the moment between Logan and me, and right away he jumped into asking me about my work, and if I’d spoken to the author who had tried to plagiarize Blade Runner. From there we chatted and joked about our work, about Maia, and avoided anything too personal.
After our supermarket run, we dropped by Mr. Jenner’s to give him his shopping and then Logan disappeared into his flat to start work on decorating Maia’s room, and I darted into my flat to start my own work.
I think I reread the same chapter ten times.
Before I knew it, Maia was home from school.
I immediately called Logan over.
“What?” Maia stared at us as all three of us stood in the living room. She’d come in, dropped her book bag in the living room, sauntered into the kitchen, and then reappeared in the sitting room with a glass of orange juice in her hand. She looked very smart in her uniform – a black blazer with the Muirhead badge on the left chest pocket, a black shirt, a green and black striped tie, black skinny trousers, and black boots.
“Well?” Logan said, sounding impatient. “How was it?”