by Author TR
“Really? That’s interesting.”
Something in Logan’s tone urged Libby to turn around again. She pushed her glasses up her nose and met his eyes. “Yes. You see, they’ve ah, decided to get back together.”
The lie made her cheeks grow hot and Libby was certain Logan saw the guilt in her eyes. To make matters worse, she couldn’t look away to save her life. She delved deeply into his warm eyes, searching for anything that indicated the bomb she’d just dropped affected him in some way. Only his gunmetal eyes revealed nothing, like his expression, except a mild amusement that confused and disappointed her.
And then, as they stood there staring into each other’s eyes while the line of elderly in front of them inched away, Libby felt a betraying moisture fill her eyes as hopelessness closed in on her. Something stirred in Logan’s eyes too, only dressed in her outlandish disguise, Libby brushed it off as anything significant. Realizing she couldn’t continue to stand there and not give her feelings away, she slowly started to turn away from him. Only he surprised her by gently taking her arm.
“Reba.” Their eyes met and held. “I wonder if you’d do something for me,” Logan said in a low voice.
People began moving around them. Libby was very conscious of the curious eyes on them. “Yes?”
“Will you give Libby a message for me, next time you see her?”
“If I see her.”
“Will you?”
She hesitated, swallowing the lump of emotion closing her throat. “Yes.” Libby was painfully aware she’d spoken in her own voice, but Logan didn’t seem to notice.
“Tell her goodbye for me. I’m leaving for California in the morning.”
“I know,” Libby said without thinking. “I mean, Libby told me.”
“Tell her too,” he hesitated, taking a deep breath. “Tell her that I love her.”
The bottom fell out of Libby’s stomach at his unexpected admission, while her heart soared with joy. It was the last thing she expected. “You love her?” Her hand flew to her fluttering heart. “You should tell her this yourself.”
Logan shook his head. “I didn’t set out to fall in love with her. But I knew from the moment I rescued her from that tree that she was going to mean trouble. All redheads are.”
“Was she?” Libby whispered.
He moved closer to Libby. “In fact, I told her from day one that all I wanted from her or any woman was sex.”
“Really?” Libby was too hypnotized by the tender look in Logan’s eyes to remember that she was supposed to be Reba. “Did you get what you wanted?”
Logan shook his head no. “I thought I did. But I soon discovered that I wanted more.”
Libby swallowed hard. “More… sex?”
His laugh was low and seductive, giving Libby goose bumps. “More…from her. I wanted to steal her heart, like she stole mine.”
“How do you know that you didn’t?” Tears of happiness were falling unchecked down Libby’s face. Complete silence surrounded them.
He shrugged slightly. “She’s never said anything.”
“Maybe she was afraid to,” Libby whispered, reaching up to wipe her eyes beneath her glasses. “Maybe she was afraid that she would chase you away.”
“Maybe.” Logan hesitated. “Would you give her something for me?”
Libby could barely get the word out. “What?”
“This.”
She gasped when Logan’s hand came up and wrapped around the back of her neck, pulling her against him. When his face lowered to hers she reacted naturally, raising hers to meet him. Then their lips were touching and his arms came around her, crushing her to him. She opened her mouth beneath his. Her senses filling with the instant rush of awareness and love for him. His low groan followed, then her sigh of surrender. She kissed him with everything she had, willing him to realize the truth. And then, to make sure that he did, she told him in no uncertain terms.
“I love you, too, Logan. I have for a long time. Only, I was afraid to tell you.” She pushed her glasses up, and froze. Oh my God. She’d forgotten she was dressed as Reba.
Logan’s laughing eyes revealed more than words. Libby glanced around them to see they had an audience of fifty or so seniors, totally enthralled with her and Logan. Frozen in various stages of what they’d been doing. Some of their expressions were motionless with shock to see a seventy-year-old woman and thirty-year-old man kissing, except for her grandmother and Vincent. They had smiles on their faces from ear to ear.
Realizing that Logan’s arms were still around her, Libby slowly returned her eyes to his. She didn’t know what to say or do next, that would justify what just happened between them. One thing was obvious though. The proof was in his amused eyes. He knew who she was. And nothing else mattered but that she was in his arms and that he loved her.
A sob escaped her. “I’ve been so afraid of losing you. I wanted to tell you how I felt, but I kept remembering what you said. Then, the other day in the bedroom when I let it slip, all I could think of doing was brushing it off as something said in the heat of the moment.”
“You certainly did your best,” Logan agreed.
“When I said I love you and saw your expression…”
“I was elated…”
“I thought you were regretful…”
“Optimistic.” He kissed Libby on the nose. “Content.” He kissed her on the cheek. “Complete.” Finally his mouth joined hers. She melded into him, uncaring where they were or who was watching. It didn’t matter how he found out she was Reba, or when. Her heart swelled with emotion. The man she loved beyond all reason loved her back. They kissed for an eternity, until Libby was melting inside. Logan’s arms were around her and she was lifted, floating on a cloud of euphoria.
When the kiss ended and she opened her eyes, she was startled to see they’d moved out of the main dining area and into the foyer, where they had more privacy.
“I love you.” They said it simultaneously and laughed softly.
“Do you feel like going for a ride?”
“Like this?” Libby chuckled, giving her wig a tug.
Logan’s eyes roamed over her face and hair with amusement. “You have time to change.”
“Where are we going?”
“California.”
“California?” Libby caught her breath, her pulse leaping with excitement. He wanted her to go with him! A wide smile spread across her face. She began to rain kisses all over his face, evading his lips when he tried to capture hers. She laughed and cried at the same time. “Yes!” she breathed against his firm lips. “I’ll go with you!”
“There’s only one thing I want from you, sweetheart.”
His endearment caused her heart to swell. “A lot of sex?” she teased.
The warmth of his deep chuckle vibrated through her. His eyes darkened with understanding. It didn’t matter what Logan wanted from her. Libby knew she’d give him anything he wanted, go anywhere with him. Their love knew no boundaries.
And no matter where it took them, Logan was her future.
The End
Kiss Me!
Chapter 1
Detective Mike Denton turned down the road to 113 Madison Drive with a feeling in his gut that warned him his life was about to change. It wasn’t anything he could put his finger on; he just knew. And he hadn’t made up his mind yet if it was a good feeling or not. He drove down the quiet street slowly, pulling to the curb when he spotted the house. It was a newer home with a double car garage revealing a small, silver sports car inside, the name of which eluded him. A for sale sign with the bold letters SOLD written across it was standing on the immaculate front lawn.
He contemplated waiting in his squad car for the paramedics to arrive, knowing what was probably waiting for him inside. For the first time he was sorry he’d put in for the overtime; he was a homicide detective. But these days the department was running short of officers and until the new man hired the week before was up to speed, volunteers had been c
alled on to take extra shifts. If he hadn’t just returned from a two-week vacation with Melissa he probably would have passed. But let no one in the department throw it in his face later that he wasn’t a team player when the need arose.
The feeling in his stomach intensified and Mike began to wonder that maybe it was the result of the high cholesterol breakfast he’d gobbled down an hour before. Somehow he doubted that was the case; he’d eaten the same breakfast many times without any complications.
Taking a deep breath, he decided he’d better go inside. From where he sat he could see the front door was already open. He slipped out from behind the wheel and strode unhurriedly to the screen door. Just as he was about to ring the doorbell a noise from inside made him hesitate. He listened, trying to determine what it could be. Was the TV on? Maybe it was the radio. He couldn’t tell. He punched the doorbell and called out at the same time, “Hello, anyone there?”
Someone should be home. The call had come from somebody inside the house less then half an hour ago. However, Mike’s vast experience over the years prepared him for anything. It wasn’t uncommon for someone to phone in a death and then leave the scene for whatever reason, especially if it involved a loved one. There were no set rules to what kind of reactions to expect.
There was no response. Next time he rapped his knuckles against the metal doorframe, which somehow seemed louder than the doorbell. “Hello!” he hollered, testing the doorknob and finding it unlocked. “Is anyone home?” Against his better judgment he opened the screen door. Walking cautiously inside, he let his eyes scan the area as he made his way through the front foyer. Self-preservation and too many times of walking in on a bad situation prompted him to keep his hand on the butt of his revolver.
As he stepped through the large archway that led to the living room, his eyes were automatically drawn to the woman standing quietly by the sliding glass door. Her arms were folded and it was obvious she was deep in thought and staring at something outside, which explained why she hadn’t heard him calling out. He moved further into the room, hoping he didn’t frighten her. She was small, not more than five feet five he determined, dressed in what he assumed were satin pajamas. His lips twitched with humor when he realized they were decorated with little yellow smiley faces.
Her russet hair was tumbling in disarray about her slender shoulders. From what Mike could see, her complexion was like a sun ripened peach, smooth and healthy looking, almost glowing in the early morning light shining through the glass. It was hard to tell from her profile but he gauged her age to be somewhere around thirty.
“Ma’am?” he called out softly, his gaze automatically searching the room for the body. He could finally hear the sirens in the distance, and he silently thanked God. The paramedics could take over once they arrived. Soothing distraught women wasn’t one of his strong points. It made him uncomfortable as hell, especially when they expected a strong shoulder to cry on while being comforted. He didn’t have that problem when he responded to a homicide. Usually no one stuck around to claim the body.
“Ma’am?” The woman jumped slightly and finally swung his way, her eyes rounding with surprise and mild fear before taking in his uniform. He sensed her calm at once, watching her body relax back against the glass door as she reached up to wipe the glistening tear tracks lining her cheeks. She was attractive; Mike couldn’t help but notice, and looking at him with eyes that reminded him of a wounded doe. Again he scanned the area for the body. Pretty or not, he had a job to do.
“I’m Mike Denton with the Stratton Police Department, ma’am. Where’s the body?” His tone was all business.
She cleared her throat before responding in a velvet voice, husky with drained emotion, “Over there.” She pointed. “I’m surprised they sent a police officer though…”
Mike only half-listened, intent on locating it. He went in the direction she indicated, halting in stunned disbelief in the doorway. There was a body all right, on the floor of what appeared to be an office. The woman had attempted to cover it up with a throw of some kind. All he could do was stand there and stare at the long, brown legs sticking out from beneath it.
There were four of them.
“I don’t believe this…” he mumbled beneath his breath, finally bending to lift a corner of the blanket and frowning at what met his eyes. A Great Dane if he knew his dogs. Seeing no apparent wounds or trauma to the body, he had a gut feeling that the dog had probably died of old age.
This was why she’d called the police? He stood with growing irritation, trying to decipher how this could have happened. He had better things to do than waste time responding to calls about dead animals. When he rejoined her in the living room, what little anger that had surfaced quickly evaporated. There had to be a logical explanation and experience had taught him to get the story before jumping to conclusions. The look on her face told him she was devastated over the loss of her dog. She looked soft and vulnerable and in need of comfort. The sudden urge to take her into his arms came from nowhere, catching him by surprise.
“Ma’am, you don’t call 911 over the death of an animal,” he began, trying to keep his voice kind. The sirens were closer now and Mike guessed he had about five minutes before they would be at the front door.
“I didn’t,” she rushed out, then quickly corrected herself, “I mean, technically I did but only because I didn’t know who else to call. Cupid’s Arrow…”
Mike frowned, almost afraid to ask, “Cupid’s Arrow?”
“The dog,” she explained. “I was taking care of him for a neighbor. When I woke this morning I found him like this. He was very old. I don’t know how I’m going to tell the Rentschlers; this is going to destroy them. They’re very devoted to Cupid’s Arrow; you see it’s because of him they met in the first place. He’s part of the fam…”
Her pretty lips were moving a hundred miles a minute and Mike listened to her rambling for a moment before shaking his head and trying to make sense of why he was wasting his time. “You still dialed 911,” he reminded her, trying to ignore the way her pajamas fit against her shapely form, outlining her generous curves. Or how the early morning sun shining through the window brought out the highlights of red fire in her auburn hair.
“I explained I didn’t know whom to call,” she reminded him in return, smiling slightly. “I told the 911 operator what the situation was. I thought she understood me.”
Damn, she had dimples. In addition, those chocolate eyes of hers were moving over him in a way that made him think of melting ice cream on a hot summer day. Soft, smooth and creamy, making him uncomfortably warm. He doubted she was even aware of her appeal. He was silent for a moment, trying to get his temperature back under control, wondering who the dispatch operator was that morning. It would be easy enough to trace. If her story didn’t pan out he could always return later and give her a citation. That would certainly give him an excuse to see her again. He withdrew his pad and pen, reminding himself he wasn’t in the market for female companionship these days.
“You’re not going to give me a ticket, are you?” she gasped in a disbelieving tone.
Mike’s eyes shot back up to hers, taking in the heightened color on her cheeks and the way she was gnawing on the inside of her lip. Damn, that bottom lip was about the sexiest thing he’d seen in a long time. “Not at this time, ma’am. I just want to jot down a few notes. But you can be sure I’ll be back if I find out you’re not telling me the truth.” Hearing the sudden commotion at the door, he realized the paramedics had arrived. “Excuse me for a moment.”
It didn’t take him long to explain the situation to them and by the time he returned to the living room the woman was gone. He swung around when a noise coming from the kitchen drew his attention. She was standing on the other side of the counter that separated the two rooms, offering him a shy smile.
“Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Denton?”
She might as well have asked him if he wanted to go to bed. The timbre of her smoky v
oice raked mercilessly over every one of Mike’s dormant senses, igniting a fire of need in his blood so fast that it shocked him. “It’s…” He hesitated from saying detective since he was in a police uniform, and he wasn’t in the mood for explanations. “No, thank you, ma’am.”
When she ran her slender fingers through her wild hair, he literally caught his breath, his stomach clenching into a tight ball. What the hell was the matter with him? He made a mental note not to order the sausage at Smoky Joe’s anymore, as he watched her move gracefully about the kitchen for a moment before getting back to the task at hand. After writing down a few more notes, he flipped the pad closed and slid it into his pocket.
“My name’s Emma Stuart,” she said unnecessarily, telling Mike what he already knew. “What about Cupid’s Arrow?” she continued when he glanced up again. “I can’t move him by myself.”
“I’ll call animal control and have them come out,” he offered, surprised to find he was reluctant to leave. It was on the tip of his tongue to accept her earlier offer of coffee.
It smelled a heck of a lot better than the black tar Smoky Joe’s served up. Moreover, she was a hell of a lot more appealing than the missing front tooth; straggly hair waitress Joe had serving for him behind the counter.
“Thank you,” she said with obvious relief. “I’m sorry for all the confusion.” She sounded sincere.
“No problem,” he found himself saying. “I’ll be in touch if—”
“I know,” she interrupted with a radiant smile, catching Mike off guard again. “If I haven’t been telling you the truth.”
Her smile was like the warmth of the sun on a cold winter day. The first breath of fresh air after emerging from a smoke filled bar. The water that quenched a dying man’s thirst. For a long moment Mike was mesmerized; his eyes fastened on her soft mouth as if he’d never seen a smile before. He finally raised his gaze to hers once more, somersaulting headfirst into those dark mysterious pools. Swallowing with difficulty, he made up his mind then and there. He was going back to Smoky Joe’s and demanding his money back!
