Though he didn't really know Brad well, Logan was glad
to see Erin having a little fun. From what he'd observed, most of Erin's activities revolved around the hospital. That wasn't much of
a life. Of course, he was a fine one to point fingers-or give dating
advice.
At any rate, it wasn't the best time to ask her if Claire was here.
Not even a smart idea in the first place, considering the hospital's
eager gossip mill. Logan grimaced, remembering how the painful
stories of his divorce made the rounds in Reno, details morphing
with each repetition like that grade school telephone game. Then
he thought of Beckah's wedding invitation lying still unanswered
on his dresser at the condo. What did a guy give his ex-wife for a
wedding gift? A gold medal for finding a better man?
But for tonight he'd simply be careful, or everyone at Sierra
Mercy would think he had a thing for the educator, and-whoa
there! Logan moved back quickly as the door opened from the
inside and Claire stepped out to stand in front of him. His breath
caught and warmth flooded through him. She was gorgeous.
"Oh, sorry!" She looked into his face. "Logan?" Her eyes widened with recognition, long lashes blinking quickly.
"You're leaving?" he asked, not caring if she could hear the
regret in his voice. He didn't want her to go, not unless it was
with him.
Claire smiled, brushing her fingers through her hair, and he
caught a whiff of her perfume. Kind of spicy and sweet. He suddenly wanted, more than he'd wanted anything in a very long
time, to be close enough to smell it on her skin.
"Just a little cowboyed out, I guess." Her gaze dropped and she
chuckled, and Logan knew she was teasing him about his denim
jacket, big-buckle Western belt, and tooled cowhide boots. In the
distance, behind the doors, the band was playing Willie Nelson's
"Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain."
"Cowboy-doctor," he corrected, resisting the urge to take hold
of her hand. All at once he needed to know how it would feel in
his. "Big difference. Honest."
She opened her mouth to speak, then hurried to move as the
door opened and a trio of preteens barreled out, pelting each other
with popcorn. They giggled apologies as Claire sidestepped to avoid
them and stumbled in the process.
Logan reached out to take Claire's arm, steadying her. He
couldn't let her go home. Stay with me. "Come back inside," he
said, hearing the plea in his voice.
Claire hesitated, and Logan remembered how she'd leaped
away when he got too close at Daffodil Hill. She'd come within
millimeters of squashing a chicken. He needed to be careful with
this woman.
"Just for a little while. Let me buy you a root beer. Yeah." He
nodded, pleased that at least she'd begun to seem amused. "Consider it a mercy thing. For a man who wrestled a drunk and got
called on the carpet by administration all in the same day."
"Hmmm." Claire peered at him out of the corner of her eye.
Logan could tell she still wasn't convinced. He'd give it another
shot. "Okay, a celebration then. For two people who saved Jamie's
life today."
Her brows drew together for a moment, almost as if his words
were troubling somehow, but then she smiled and he knew he'd
finally said the right thing.
Behind them, through a crack in the door, he heard the band
begin a rendition of Patsy Cline's "Crazy." Very appropriate, considering his current state of mind. Logan grinned at Claire and
waited.
"Okay," she said slowly, taking a step toward the door. "I think I can deal with one more mug of root beer, Doctor. For that kind
of celebration."
Logan opened the door, and Claire led the way inside and
walked toward the tables. He smiled with appreciation. She couldn't
know it, but the privilege of following her was something to be celebrated in itself. She wore a lace-trimmed T-shirt above trim black
jeans, a silver concho belt, and soft leather boots. Her glossy dark
hair brushed her shoulders with each subtle sway of her
to see Erin having a little fun. From what he'd observed, most of Erin's activities revolved around the hospital. That wasn't much of
a life. Of course, he was a fine one to point fingers-or give dating
advice.
At any rate, it wasn't the best time to ask her if Claire was here.
Not even a smart idea in the first place, considering the hospital's
eager gossip mill. Logan grimaced, remembering how the painful
stories of his divorce made the rounds in Reno, details morphing
with each repetition like that grade school telephone game. Then
he thought of Beckah's wedding invitation lying still unanswered
on his dresser at the condo. What did a guy give his ex-wife for a
wedding gift? A gold medal for finding a better man?
But for tonight he'd simply be careful, or everyone at Sierra
Mercy would think he had a thing for the educator, and-whoa
there! Logan moved back quickly as the door opened from the
inside and Claire stepped out to stand in front of him. His breath
caught and warmth flooded through him. She was gorgeous.
"Oh, sorry!" She looked into his face. "Logan?" Her eyes widened with recognition, long lashes blinking quickly.
"You're leaving?" he asked, not caring if she could hear the
regret in his voice. He didn't want her to go, not unless it was
with him.
Claire smiled, brushing her fingers through her hair, and he
caught a whiff of her perfume. Kind of spicy and sweet. He suddenly wanted, more than he'd wanted anything in a very long
time, to be close enough to smell it on her skin.
"Just a little cowboyed out, I guess." Her gaze dropped and she
chuckled, and Logan knew she was teasing him about his denim
jacket, big-buckle Western belt, and tooled cowhide boots. In the
distance, behind the doors, the band was playing Willie Nelson's
"Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain."
"Cowboy-doctor," he corrected, resisting the urge to take hold
of her hand. All at once he needed to know how it would feel in
his. "Big difference. Honest."
She opened her mouth to speak, then hurried to move as the
door opened and a trio of preteens barreled out, pelting each other
with popcorn. They giggled apologies as Claire sidestepped to avoid
them and stumbled in the process.
Logan reached out to take Claire's arm, steadying her. He
couldn't let her go home. Stay with me. "Come back inside," he
said, hearing the plea in his voice.
Claire hesitated, and Logan remembered how she'd leaped
away when he got too close at Daffodil Hill. She'd come within
millimeters of squashing a chicken. He needed to be careful with
this woman.
"Just for a little while. Let me buy you a root beer. Yeah." He
nodded, pleased that at least she'd begun to seem amused. "Consider it a mercy thing. For a man who wrestled a drunk and got
called on the carpet by administration all in the same day."
"Hmmm." Claire peered at him out of the corner of her eye.
Logan could tell she still wasn't convinced. He'd give it another
shot. "Okay, a celebration then. For two people who saved Jamie's
life today."
Her brows drew together for a moment, almost as if his words
were troubling somehow, but then she smiled and he knew he'd
finally said the right thing.
Behind them, through a crack in the door, he heard the band
begin a rendition of Patsy Cline's "Crazy." Very appropriate, considering his current state of mind. Logan grinned at Claire and
waited.
"Okay," she said slowly, taking a step toward the door. "I think I can deal with one more mug of root beer, Doctor. For that kind
of celebration."
Logan opened the door, and Claire led the way inside and
walked toward the tables. He smiled with appreciation. She couldn't
know it, but the privilege of following her was something to be celebrated in itself. She wore a lace-trimmed T-shirt above trim black
jeans, a silver concho belt, and soft leather boots. Her glossy dark
hair brushed her shoulders with each subtle sway of her
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