Her blue eyes flashed up miserably, latching onto his face. He opened his mouth to respond, but found himself temporarily derailed by those magical eyes. The speech patterns of his brain shut down, and it was all he could to do close his mouth.
Was it normal for one person to be so beautiful? Was this the head injury talking? He met beautiful women almost every day as part of his job, but none of them had ever affected him quite like this one. Maybe it was because they couldn’t hold a candle.
“It’s not your fault,” he said again quietly. “And it’s not Bill’s fault either.” Without another word, he hobbled over to what was left of the coffee table to recover his things. “Do you know what station they took him to? Was it somewhere nearby?”
Lacy followed his every movement with a little frown. “Yeah, it’s less than a mile away on the corner of Braxon and Elm. Why do you want to—”
“Can you see yourself out?” Logan interrupted as politely as he could. “Extra ten points if you agree to take the dog.”
She was too hung up on the fistfight to see the humor.
“Why are you going to the station?” she asked in a worried voice. “Are you going to press extra charges? Because I know he attacked you, Dylan, but that doesn’t mean—”
“I’m not going to press charges,” Logan replied as he slipped on his coat. He cast her one final look, before pacing out into the sun. “I’m going to get him out.”
BAILING SOMEONE OUT of a jail was a lot harder in real life, than it looked in the movies. It was a lesson Logan was still learning the hard way hours later.
“Yes, but I gave you that information already.” He pressed his palms into the cracked registration counter, trying to rein in his frustration. “If you could just—”
“Sir, I’ve already told you a hundred times.” The woman behind the counter was just as frustrated as him. And far less polite about it. “William Heam is being charged with assault—”
“Yeah, but I’m the one he assaulted!” Logan cried. “Me. No one else, just me. Doesn’t that give me the right to not press charges?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed in a withering glare—her fingers just itching to press the button below the desk that alerted security. “For the last time, until we have proof of—”
“Hey, Melinda.”
The door pushed open, and Logan and the receptionist whirled around as Lacy Larson breezed into the room. As casual as if she owned it. As relaxed as if she came there every day.
“Lacy?! AH—it’s so good to see you!” Melinda-the-receptionist sprang to her feet with a beaming smile. “I thought you were heading to Atlanta.”
“Got cancelled,” Lacy replied, letting herself be pulled in for a giant hug. “The official story was food poisoning, but I suspect ulterior motives.”
The two women laughed conspiratorially, as Logan stared between them in disbelief. If he’d known the receptionist could smile, he would have tried to charm her ages ago. As it stood, he merely stood there quietly until they were finished.
“This guy giving you any trouble?” Lacy asked with a grin, cocking her head towards Logan. It was impossible to miss the tension between the two. A fact she was enjoying greatly.
Melinda scowled, fixing Logan once more in her dangerous sights. “You have no idea. You want to work your magic with that nightstick you’re always carrying—be my guest.”
Nightstick? What the hell was this woman? PI? Undercover cop?
...professional trespasser?
Before he could tell his side of the story, Lacy stepped up to the counter with a steady calm. “He’s here to bail out Bill Heam. Can we make that happe
n?”
Logan folded his arms across his chest, bracing himself for the opposition, but the receptionist only smiled. “Of course—just give me a second to get it processed.”
There was a pause in her typing as she and Logan locked eyes. She smiled sweetly, then returned to the screen. For his part, Logan had reached his limit.
Without stopping to think, he scribbled some numbers on a check, and slipped it over the counter. “That should cover it. Do me a favor and keep it anonymous.” Before either woman could say a word, he was out the door. Leaving them speechless in his wake.
By now, the sun had begun to lower in the sky. Logan gazed up at it wistfully, wishing he was already on a plane flying home, back to where things like this never happened. Back to where everything was predictable and controlled. But his escape from Cleveland had one last stop to make. He had to go back to Dylan’s first to grab his suitcase. While he was at it, he should also probably leave out some food and water for the dog.
As if the thing needs to get any bigger...
“Hey! Wait up!” He turned around suddenly to see Lacy running towards him across the street. The golden sunlight danced across her hair and reflected in her luminous eyes as she gazed up at him in wonder. “You didn’t have to pay the full amount, you know. It was just the standard holding fee. They probably would have lowered it—”