Crazy for Her (A K2 Team Novel)

by Owens, Sandra

  Logan tapped Regan’s nose. “I’m not picking you up until we get you cleaned up.” He glanced at Dani. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “It’s a mystery to all men why women always say ‘nothing’ when it is clearly something. You’re about to cry. Why?”

  “I was just thinking about Evan.”

  His face blanked. Why was that? Evan had been her husband and his best friend. Shouldn’t they be able to talk about him without it causing tension? Logan was hiding something, or maybe just holding his feelings about Evan’s death close.

  His gaze returned to Regan, his words directed to Evan’s daughter. “Your father was the most honorable man I’ve ever known. He was the brother I never had. As you grow older, I’ll tell you stories of him so you’ll know him as I did.” He then leaned close to Regan’s ear and whispered something.

  Dani thought she heard the word “sorry,” and would give anything to know what he’d said. Regan reached up and patted his face with her red-stained hands, almost as if she were absolving him of guilt. “Gan,” she said.

  “Jesus,” he whispered just before he walked out of the room.

  For the first time in her life, Dani truly understood what it meant when someone said the lightbulb went off, because it did for her in a brilliant, blinding radiance. He blamed himself for Evan’s death. Of course he did. How had she not realized? He had been the team’s commander, responsible for the success of their missions. If he didn’t bring them home safely, Logan was the kind of man who would hold himself responsible whether warranted or not.

  And of all the ones to lose, Evan had been like a brother to him. Was that why he hadn’t come to see her when he got out of the hospital? Because he couldn’t face her? Was that why he resisted giving in to his desire for her? What had he said a few nights ago? Something about it being a matter of honor.

  Gah, men were the stupidest creatures on earth when it came to their honor. She needed to think about this and figure out how to get him to talk about it. Without doubt, he would resist—would have to be dragged by his toenails to her Dr. Phil session. Didn’t matter. Whether he liked it or not, they were going to bring his demons out in the open and then blow them to smithereens.

  Dani picked Regan up.

  “No.” She pushed away and looked at the doorway. “No, Mama. Wont Gan.”

  Dani froze, her heart turning over as her daughter reached another milestone. Oh my God, her first sentences and there was no one to share it with. It did no good to wish Evan were alive, though she did.

  After bathing Regan and getting her to bed, Dani showered, and then took twenty minutes deciding what to wear. To go with her Mexican-themed dinner, she finally decided on a multicolored knee-length cotton skirt and a white off-the-shoulder blouse. She slipped on a pair of red-beaded earrings, along with her silver watch. She considered painting her toenails orange, but decided the yellow matched well enough. Besides, Logan said he liked the yellow.

  Barefoot, she went to the kitchen to start dinner and stopped in the doorway. Wearing her apron, Logan stood at the counter, tears streaming down his face as he chopped onions.

  “Logan, what are you doing?”

  “Chopping the damn onions.”

  “I see that. Here, let me finish.” Probably best she didn’t tell him how adorable he looked in her lacey apron.

  “No, no need for both of us to ruin our eyes. Sit. I’ve got dinner tonight.”

  “Do you know what you’re doing?”

  He rolled watery eyes. “I’ve been cooking since I was seven. If I didn’t do it, we didn’t eat. As we’re pretty sure Maria’s half-Latina, I learned to cook Mexican, Cuban, and anything remotely related to a Latin dish, thinking she should love the food of her heritage.” He chuckled. “Except for tacos and enchiladas, she hates it all. Turns out, she’s a junk-food eater. Sit.”

  Sometimes he could break her heart. She saw a little boy, unloved and uncared for by his mother, desperately trying to learn how to make the foods he thought his sister should eat.

  Although he wouldn’t want her pity, she couldn’t resist wrapping her arms around his waist and holding the boy that surely could have used a hug. Somehow he turned in her embrace, pulled her close, and rested his chin on her head.

  “Logan?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Hush. Go sit and let me take care of you.”

  She could have stayed in his arms all night, but he’d offered to cook for her, something no woman could resist. “How about we take care of each other? I’ll make us a pitcher of margaritas while you surprise me with your culinary skills.”

  Brown eyes warmed to the color of rich dark chocolate. “Works for me.”

  He kissed her then, in the same way he had earlier. God, she could do this with him forever. It was a soft, exploring kiss, one that said he had deep feelings for her. Was that what she wanted? She didn’t know. She had thought they would have an affair as hot as a flashing fire and when it burned out, they’d return to their respective lives. He was changing the rules, but she wasn’t sure she minded.

  The slide of his palms down her arms sent little shivers through her. He entwined their hands, lifted his face, and stared at her as if he were searching for answers. What was the question?

  She smiled and pulled her hands from his. “Right. I’ll just go make the margaritas.” The pitcher of margaritas made, she salted the rims and poured them each a glass. “Here you go. Can I do anything to help?”

  “No, sit and relax.”

  As he’d already set the table, she relaxed and sipped her drink. Although she loved to cook, it was nice having him take over. He obviously knew what he was doing.

  “So, did you find anything out today?” she asked.

  “Yes, but we’ll talk about it later, after dinner.”

  “All right. What would you like to talk about?”

  He turned and speared her with that intense look of his. “You.”

  “I’m the most boring person in the world.”

  Leaning back, he braced his hands on the counter. “Are you? I hadn’t noticed.”

  The way he stood accentuated the muscles in his chest and arms. How was she supposed to have a coherent thought when all she could think about was undressing him? “What do you want to know? I mean, you pretty much know everything about me. Great childhood, great parents, blah, blah, blah.”

  He chuckled. “All right. What about your writing? I haven’t seen you doing any since I’ve been here.”

  “I’m between deadlines. I finished my children’s book. It was something I really wanted to do, but I’m ready to get back to my romances. The mirror story is bubbling in my head, and I’m itching to get started on it.”

  “What made you want to write a children’s book?”

  Dani skimmed a finger around the rim of her glass and licked the salt. If she was right about Logan feeling guilty over Evan’s death, the answer was going to spoil the mood, but she wanted to tell him. She gave a slight shrug.

  “I did it for Regan and in a way, for Evan, too. The title’s My Daddy Book. It’s about a young girl whose father doesn’t return from the war. She’s sad and misses him terribly. She starts the fourth grade in a new school and doesn’t know anyone, hasn’t any friends. A bully makes fun of her every day and she thinks, if only her daddy were here he would make the mean boy stop.” Logan’s face had shuttered and she hesitated.

  “Go on.”

  “You sure?”

  He nodded.

  “Well, another little girl finally befriends her, and they scheme to get back at the bully. On an overnight at her friend’s house, the father overhears them talking about all the mean things they plan to do to the bully. He’s a police officer and knows the boy, knows that he’s being raised by a single mother and they’re having a hard time.


  “He convinces them to try and make friends with the mean boy, and so, eventually they do, and the three children become fast friends. Simplistic, I know, but that’s the story part to keep a young reader interested. The theme of the book is how the little girl goes through the grieving process and learns to cherish memories of her father. The book’s interactive with places where a child can write in their daddy’s name, his favorite color, things like that. There’s also a page in the front to insert a picture.

  “I started it to give to Regan one day, and I didn’t think of publishing it. I mentioned what I was doing to my agent, and she asked to see it when I finished. Without telling me, she sent it to an editor who handles children’s books.” Dani shrugged. “He liked it and there you have it.”

  The oven timer went off and he turned away. What was he thinking? She was afraid she’d added to his guilt, if that was his problem, and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “Logan?”

  “Do you have a copy here?”

  Hoping he wasn’t slipping into one of his dark moods, she wished he’d turn around so she could see his face. “I have an advance copy, why?”

  “I want to read it.”

  “All right, I’ll get it for you after dinner.” Was it a good thing for him to read it? Would it help him understand that even when the worst happens, life does go on, or would it make his remorse worse?

  Logan put the enchiladas on the plates, glad he had an excuse to keep his back to Dani. All the guilt he’d managed to smother the last few days came screaming back with the force of a ballistic missile. If he’d brought Evan safely home, she wouldn’t have had to write their daughter a daddy book, and what about Regan? The little girl he was growing to love would never know Evan, never hear that deep laugh of his, never listen to him tell one of his stupid jokes. Earlier, when he’d whispered to Regan that he was sorry for not bringing her daddy home and she’d patted his face, it had felt like she was forgiving him. He’d almost lost it then.

  He desperately wanted Evan’s girls: He wanted Dani for his wife and longed to step into the role of father to Regan. Not an admirable thing to want another man’s family, nor did he deserve them.

  “Anything I can do?”

  The question confused him. There was nothing she could do to make it right.

  “You’re staring at that plate as if you’re not pleased with it. It looks good to me, actually so good, my mouth’s watering.”

  She meant dinner, and he sighed in relief. The longing in her eyes when she spoke of Evan tore at his heart. If he tried to explain his guilt, she’d just blow him off again, tell him he mustn’t think such things. She could never understand the bone-deep responsibility he’d felt for his team, how not keeping Evan safe for her was something for which he couldn’t forgive himself.

  If he didn’t shake off his dark thoughts, though, she’d start to question him and he’d have to lie, so he leaned over and sniffed, catching the scent of flowers.

  “You smell nice.”

  “Gardenia-scented shampoo. Are we going to eat this or just stand here and admire it?”

  The way she changed her toenail colors and shampoos fascinated him. If she were his, he would spend half his time wondering how she would smell or what color her toes would be next. He shook off the thought and picked up the plates. Dani refilled his glass and brought it to the table.

  “You’ve gone quiet. Did talking about the book upset you?”

  “I’m fine. Eat your dinner,” he said, and forced himself to take a bite. It was undoubtedly good, but to him it tasted like sawdust.

  A drawn-out sigh followed her first bite. “My God, Logan, this is amazing.” She glanced at the casserole dish. “Oh goody, there’s enough left for lunch tomorrow.”

  “Thanks. It’s one of the few dishes Maria will eat. Probably because it’s got so much cheese in it.”

  “You said she eats junk food. What does she like?”

  “Loaded chili dogs, fried bologna sandwiches, and corndogs are her favorites.”

  “Seriously?”

  “I kid you not. I’ve put food from every country in the world in front of her, and all I hear is, ‘Why can’t you just fry me up some bologna?’”

  “If that’s all she wants, can’t she make it herself?”

  “Maria and fire don’t mix. One night I made an elaborate meal, I don’t remember what now, but when she turned up her nose, I gave up. Told her I was done and she could cook for herself. The next night when she finally realized I meant it, she tried to make dinner. Almost burned the damned place down.”

  Her eyes glittered in amusement. “I’d like to meet her.”

  Logan glanced at his empty plate. When had he finished it? He grinned at the woman who had the ability to make him forget he was eating sawdust. “That’s good to know because you’ll meet her Tuesday night.”

  “I will? She’s coming here?”

  He hadn’t meant to bring this up yet. “Tell you what. I’ll clean up while you make us a pot of coffee. Then grab the baby monitor and we’ll sit on the deck and talk.”

  “Okay. Thanks for making dinner, by the way. It really was delicious.”

  “My pleasure,” he said, and meant it. He enjoyed cooking for her. When they got to Pensacola, he would make her his specialty, seafood paella.

  While she checked on Regan, Logan stacked the dishwasher and then went to his room to get his gun. He carried their coffee out back and put the cups and gun on the table. It was dark, and if Dickhead was out there, there was no way of knowing. Hopefully the man was holed up in his motel room for the night.

  Settling in a chaise longue, Logan stretched out his legs. It was a beautiful night, and he leaned his head back and looked at the stars. Dani came out, and instead of taking the longue on the other side of the table, she sat between his legs and leaned back against his chest.

  He tensed. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting comfortable.”

  She arranged an afghan over her legs, her bottom wiggling against his crotch as she did so. Jesus. She was killing him, but his cock liked it. A lot. Logan gritted his teeth and waited for her to get settled. Her gardenia-scented shampoo was nice, but he liked the apple pie one best. It was probably a good thing she hadn’t used that one, though. He’d probably be licking her by now.

  When she reached for her coffee, she noticed the gun. “I keep forgetting.”

  “That’s okay as long as you’re with me, but if I’m not nearby, you need to remember to be on guard.”

  “It’s funny, until you came, I didn’t forget at all. You make me feel safe.”

  He gave up on not touching her. Wrapping his arms around her, he rested his chin on her head. “I will always keep you safe, Dani.” Or die trying.

  She put her hand over his. “I know. Now, tell me about Maria coming to visit.”

  So much trust she put in him. It was unnerving and scared the hell out of him. What if he failed? What if no matter his precautions, the man somehow managed to get to her? He had to make sure that didn’t happen because it would destroy him.

  “Logan? Hello.”

  She twisted and peered at him. Before coming out, he’d opened the curtains in the kitchen so they’d have some light. Green eyes gazed at him, and when her lips parted, he couldn’t help himself. Putting his hand under her chin, he lowered his mouth to hers.

  Her soft sigh undid him. He deepened the kiss, loving the taste of her, the feel of her lips against his. When he ran his tongue over her lips, she parted them, her tongue reaching for his.

  For almost three years, he’d fantasized about kissing her, about touching her, making love to her. It had been his guilty secret. His imagination had been seriously inadequate.

  The last thing he wanted to do was stop, but if he didn’t now, he wouldn’t be able to. If
there came a time when they made love, he wanted to know it was the right thing to do. There would be no regrets for either of them. And if it did happen, it would be because she was his.

  He reluctantly pulled away. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

  She gave him a cross look. “You’re a tease, Logan Kincaid.”

  That startled a laugh out of him. He brushed a strand of hair away from her face. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be, but we need to talk, and if we keep this up, I’m going to forget everything I need to tell you.”

  “All right,” she grumbled, and picked up her cup. “I’m listening.”

  He took a deep breath and plunged in, fully expecting a battle. “Maria’s not coming here. We’re going to Pensacola. I have some things I need to take care of, and I’m not leaving you and Regan here by yourselves.” He waited for the eruption.

  She set down her coffee and turned around on her knees to face him, her eyes alight with excitement. “Cool, when do we leave?”

  Would she ever stop surprising him? “Tuesday night. That’ll give you two days to pack and get ready.”

  “Awesome. I’m going to start now. It’ll take me two days to decide what to pack. Oh, this is so exciting.” She smacked him on the lips and was off before he could blink.

  Logan chuckled. That had gone better than expected. It was getting harder and harder to resist her, and he needed to talk some things over with Mrs. Jankowski. When he made love to Dani—if it happened—it would be at his house where a picture of Evan wasn’t next to her bed.

  Maybe he was being stupid. Maybe if he’d had a normal mother, he wouldn’t be so afraid of turning out like her. Lovey Dovey had tried her best to drag him into the gutter with her. When he’d resisted, she had sneered and made fun of him for putting on airs, calling him Mr. Hoity-Toity. What was it she’d said more than once in a fit of anger—blood will tell? She hadn’t seemed to grasp the irony that they shared the same blood.

  There had come a time when he’d almost proved her right, a night he tried his best to forget. He did have bad blood in him, so he’d kept a tight leash on his urges.