The black pants Macy wore appeared to be poured on and the shimmering lime green shirt sparkled. The tiny glimpse of nipple rings sent the heat slithering through his gut into a full raging fire. Delicate hands lifted and…Was that nail polish?
“Are those for me?”
Yanking his gaze from the translucent, pale pink polish, he found one perfectly manicured eyebrow arched and blue eyes filled with humor.
He swallowed and thrusted out the flowers. Some of the petals popped off and drifted to the earth.
“Shit, sorry,” he muttered, releasing the flowers into Macy’s tender care.
“They’re lovely.”
Macy turned and headed back into the apartment and Logan slowly followed. He shut the door and stood near it. Cupboards slammed in the kitchen. He couldn’t remember a time he’d been so fucking nervous or so stupidly awkward.
Macy came back into the room with a crystal vase and the flowers arranged inside. The scent of sugar drifted on the air. It reminded Logan of the cotton candy he’d eaten as a small boy at the local fair. His mother and father had taken him and his siblings every year without fail. The scent reminded him of family, of home. Call him crazy, but someday, he was going to find out what lotion Macy used and buy stock in the company.
“See? No worse for the wear.” Placing the vase on the table, Macy admired them. “So? Where to?”
“Um…” He blinked, startled.
Macy giggled. “Just kidding. Come on, you dork.”
“Dork?” He squinted.
Macy laughed and grabbed his keys and sashayed to the door. “That’s what I said.”
“Why are you calling me names?” he grumbled, trailing after Macy.
“Because you’re acting weird,” Macy said with a grin, locking the door and then skipping down the steps.
“I am,” he agreed, rubbing at his jaw with a quiet laugh.
He made his way to the white SUV with the baby blue license plate cover.
“What?” Macy turned at his slight chuckle.
He pointed to the license plate. If I get a ticket, I hope it’s to Disney world.
Macy grinned. “You should see my t-shirt collection.”
“I’d love to.” He jumped on that chance.
Macy rolled his eyes and slipped behind the wheel.
Logan slid into the passenger seat and struggled one-handed with his seat belt, and once clipped, he realized the SUV hadn’t started. Glancing over, he found Macy staring at him.
“What?”
“What’s wrong?” Macy eyed him over.
“Nothing, why?”
Cornflower blue eyes narrowed. “You’re moving like my granny.”
“You don’t have a granny,” he said, and then frowned. “Do you?”
“No.” Macy turned the ignition. “Now, tell me what’s wrong.”
He cleared his throat and motioned through the windshield. “Drive and I’ll tell you.”
Rolling his eyes, Macy pulled onto the main street.
“I got shot.”
“What?” Blue eyes glanced quickly over. “Where?”
“In Nebraska.”
“Not where, you dork. Where on your body?”
Logan grinned. He’d known what Macy had meant, he just wanted to get one up on the snarky brat.
“My arm.”
“How bad?” Macy chewed on his plump bottom lip.
“Just a graze. I didn’t even need stitches.”
“I hope whoever shot you is dead!”
He gaped and turned in his seat to watch Macy’s expressive face.
“Why? You gonna take them out if they’re not?” he half joked.
“Maybe.”
Macy
“You don’t think I can?” He threw a scowl at Logan. He hated when people underestimated him because of his looks.
The smoking hot hunk opened his mouth, then squinted at him before he said, “Well… I hadn’t thought about it.”
Macy sniffed and squeezed the wheel. Damn it, keep it together. Remember, you’re waiting until this Siegel shit is over before you spill your guts, he silently reminded himself.
“I’m not a marshmallow.”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a marshmallow.”
“There’s not?” He eyed Logan.
The man’s lips curved and Macy wanted to pull the car over and jump the man’s bones. When he’d opened the door to find Logan standing there with his Charlie Brown flowers, his heart had melted. Logan was a tall, lean, brown-haired hunk. The gray threading through the strands made the man even more mouthwatering.
He glanced over and Logan flashed him a smile that knocked him dead. The dark slacks and white button-down dress shirt should have been illegal because while it would have been plain on anyone else, on Logan it looked powerful and so freaking sinful.
Logan wore authority like a glove. That was why the awkwardness from earlier had been surprising and a bit endearing.
“I actually love them.”
He blinked, his brain trying to catch up. “Love what?”
“Marshmallows?” Logan laughed.
He snorted and glanced in the rear-view mirror. Was that washed-out red sedan following them?
“Did you get my last letter?”
“I did.” He threw Logan a smile