her.”
He put Amanda Sue into the playpen and tossed all the toys back inside with her, then followed Emily into the kitchen. She went to the laundry room door and looked inside. “There you are.”
“Find her?” He went after her, arriving just as she turned back. They bumped, chest to chest. “Whoops!” His armsautomatically came around her. For just an instant, they stood together, caught by a single thought, a shared memory of lips melding and desires flaring out of control.
“Emily,” he whispered, aware of a faintly pleading tone.
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and he felt a flash of triumph. But then she jerked back, skittering away as though he’d suddenly grown fangs.
“I, uh, left the t-tote bag in the corner,” she stuttered.
He tamped down his disappointment and irritation. “I’ll get it.”
He slipped past her and retrieved the bag, while she took care of the laundry room. She reemerged with the cat in her arms, explaining, “I bagged and disposed of the litter I’d put in there.”
He nodded and handed her the tote bag. She placed the cat inside, grasped the handles and carried it toward the living room. Keeping his face carefully expressionless, he followed at a distance. She kissed Amanda Sue goodbye, stepped into her shoes, and all but ran toward the entry hall with the bag in tow. He strode after her.
“Emily?”
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him.
He let her sweat a moment, then he said casually, “Have a good weekend.”
Her shoulders sagged momentarily, then straightened rigidly. “Thanks. You, too.” She flashed a weak smile over her shoulder and made her escape.
Logan leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. She’d run, all right, as fast as her long legs would carry her, but the day was coming when she wouldn’t—and they both knew it.
Six
E mily groaned when the telephone rang. It was the middle of the night, and she hadn’t slept a wink. Now what? She sat up, pushed her hair out of her face and reached for the lamp on the bedside table. Snatching up the phone in mid-ring, she snapped, “What?”
“Emily?”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. No doubt that was Amanda Sue screaming in the background. “What’s wrong?”
“All I can figure is that she’s sick!” he exclaimed. “She won’t take a bottle, and she keeps kind of gagging.”
“Did you take her temperature?”
“I tried, but—”
“Just put the sensor in her ear. It only takes a moment to—”
“I tell you, I’ve tried!” he shouted. “She won’t let me!”
Emily tamped down her impatience. “Listen, you’re bigger than her. How—”
“Have you ever tried to put that thing into something as small as a baby’s ear when she’s kicking and screaming and twisting like a cyclone?” Emily sighed, and he rushed on. “You said she might be teething, so I read that book you bought, and it says she can have a fever and an ear infection and an upset stomach from that. So I tried to give her an aspirin, but—”
“No!” Emily interrupted anxiously. “Never give a child under twelve aspirin, Logan. You have to use acetaminophen. It says that clearly in the book.”
“Well, how would I know that?” he bawled. “The book’s under the dresser where she kicked it!”
Emily rolled her eyes. Obviously, she was going to have to go over there. “Just sit down in the rocking chair with her,” she advised, flipping back the covers. “I’m on my way.”
“Hurry!” he barked, and hung up the phone.
Emily raced for the closet. Less than a minute later she was grabbing a coat off the rack by the door and heading out to the car. On normal weekdays, one could expect the streets to be empty at this time, but in San Antonio the weekend was already in full swing by the cocktail hour on Friday evening, and this Friday evening/Saturday morning was no exception. Emily navigated the traffic as quickly as possible, ever mindful that
He put Amanda Sue into the playpen and tossed all the toys back inside with her, then followed Emily into the kitchen. She went to the laundry room door and looked inside. “There you are.”
“Find her?” He went after her, arriving just as she turned back. They bumped, chest to chest. “Whoops!” His armsautomatically came around her. For just an instant, they stood together, caught by a single thought, a shared memory of lips melding and desires flaring out of control.
“Emily,” he whispered, aware of a faintly pleading tone.
She swallowed, her gaze dropping to his mouth, and he felt a flash of triumph. But then she jerked back, skittering away as though he’d suddenly grown fangs.
“I, uh, left the t-tote bag in the corner,” she stuttered.
He tamped down his disappointment and irritation. “I’ll get it.”
He slipped past her and retrieved the bag, while she took care of the laundry room. She reemerged with the cat in her arms, explaining, “I bagged and disposed of the litter I’d put in there.”
He nodded and handed her the tote bag. She placed the cat inside, grasped the handles and carried it toward the living room. Keeping his face carefully expressionless, he followed at a distance. She kissed Amanda Sue goodbye, stepped into her shoes, and all but ran toward the entry hall with the bag in tow. He strode after her.
“Emily?”
She stopped but didn’t turn to face him.
He let her sweat a moment, then he said casually, “Have a good weekend.”
Her shoulders sagged momentarily, then straightened rigidly. “Thanks. You, too.” She flashed a weak smile over her shoulder and made her escape.
Logan leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. She’d run, all right, as fast as her long legs would carry her, but the day was coming when she wouldn’t—and they both knew it.
Six
E mily groaned when the telephone rang. It was the middle of the night, and she hadn’t slept a wink. Now what? She sat up, pushed her hair out of her face and reached for the lamp on the bedside table. Snatching up the phone in mid-ring, she snapped, “What?”
“Emily?”
She closed her eyes at the sound of his voice. No doubt that was Amanda Sue screaming in the background. “What’s wrong?”
“All I can figure is that she’s sick!” he exclaimed. “She won’t take a bottle, and she keeps kind of gagging.”
“Did you take her temperature?”
“I tried, but—”
“Just put the sensor in her ear. It only takes a moment to—”
“I tell you, I’ve tried!” he shouted. “She won’t let me!”
Emily tamped down her impatience. “Listen, you’re bigger than her. How—”
“Have you ever tried to put that thing into something as small as a baby’s ear when she’s kicking and screaming and twisting like a cyclone?” Emily sighed, and he rushed on. “You said she might be teething, so I read that book you bought, and it says she can have a fever and an ear infection and an upset stomach from that. So I tried to give her an aspirin, but—”
“No!” Emily interrupted anxiously. “Never give a child under twelve aspirin, Logan. You have to use acetaminophen. It says that clearly in the book.”
“Well, how would I know that?” he bawled. “The book’s under the dresser where she kicked it!”
Emily rolled her eyes. Obviously, she was going to have to go over there. “Just sit down in the rocking chair with her,” she advised, flipping back the covers. “I’m on my way.”
“Hurry!” he barked, and hung up the phone.
Emily raced for the closet. Less than a minute later she was grabbing a coat off the rack by the door and heading out to the car. On normal weekdays, one could expect the streets to be empty at this time, but in San Antonio the weekend was already in full swing by the cocktail hour on Friday evening, and this Friday evening/Saturday morning was no exception. Emily navigated the traffic as quickly as possible, ever mindful that
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