Confidential: Expecting! by Jackie Braun

he challenged. “You can do better than that.”
    “There’s nothing wrong with determination,” she returned, sounding slightly defensive.
    “You’re right. There’s nothing wrong with it.” God knew, determination was probably what had seen Mallory through her rough childhood and into a much brighter future. “But surely you can come up with more adjectives than that.”
    “I’m hardworking,” she told him.
    Logan blew out a breath, unimpressed. “That’s just another label for the same thing. Is that the best you can do?”
    “It’s enough. It should be enough.” Her voice rose.
    He reached over for one of her hands. “I haven’t known you very long, Mallory, and already I see so much more than that. You sell yourself short.”
    Even in the dimly lit car he could see her throat work. “Well, do tell.”
    He wasn’t offended by her attempt at sarcasm. He squeezed the hand he still held in his. “No. It’s for you to see. Not for me to tell you. It won’t have the sameimpact then. And before you accuse me of analyzing you, how about we change the subject?”
    “Okay.” She blew out a breath, clearly trying to rally. Determined. Yes, she was definitely that. “So, what do you think of jazz?”
    “I like it.”
    “You sound a little surprised.”
    “I am. Maybe it was the live performance tonight or the company.” He flashed her a grin. “But I really enjoyed myself. I may have to go out and buy a jazz CD. Or you could lend me a couple of yours until I’m sure I like the genre?”
    “Maybe,” she allowed.
    They reached her apartment building. Logan found a parking spot half a block past the front entrance and pulled the car to the curb. Switching off the ignition, he turned to her and asked, “So, are you still mad at me?”
    “Mad? Why would I be mad?” But she crossed her arms over her chest. He thought he saw a flicker of challenge in her expression.
    He played along. Nodding, he said, “You are, but you know, this could be a blessing in disguise.”
    Mallory’s brow crinkled. “How do you figure that, Doc?”
    “Everyone knows that make-up sex is the best kind.” He waited a moment before bobbing his eyebrows.
    Mallory didn’t so much as smile.
    “You look skeptical.”
    And a little amused. Her lips had begun to twitchdespite her effort to remain stoic. “I may need some convincing,” she said.
    Logan opened his car door and came around to her side. As he helped her out, he said, “Come on, then. Let’s get started.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

    “S O, WHO is he?” Vicki Storm asked.
    Their drinks, tortilla chips and a bowl of salsa had just arrived at their table at Tia Lenore when Mallory’s best friend and former college roommate asked the question. Vicki wasn’t one to beat around the bush. It was one of the things Mallory liked about the other woman, but she didn’t appreciate it tonight. For reasons she couldn’t quite explain, she hadn’t told her friend about Logan.
    “Who is who?”
    “The man who has kept you so busy that you’ve skipped not one but two of our margarita dates? And tonight doesn’t really count as a margarita night, either.” Her friend’s nose wrinkled. “You’re drinking plain old water.”
    “I didn’t feel like tequila tonight.” The truth was, salsa was low on her list, too. She’d been battling a bad case of indigestion for the past week.
    When silence ensued, Vicki followed up with an impatient, “Well?”
    Vicki worked as an interior designer, decorating the palatial penthouses and estates of some of the area’s wealthiest people. She was good at her profession. Downright gifted, in fact. But Mallory still thought the woman should have gone into journalism. She’d make one hell of a reporter. Or a formidable interrogator with the Chicago police department.
    “His name is Logan, okay?”
    “Does he have a last name or is this some sort of kinky Internet thing?”
    The moment of truth had arrived. “It’s