More than One Night
Page 20
Sarah opened her mouth to give both father and son a firm no when a baby’s cry from the back room did it for her.
“Huh?” Max blinked in surprise. “That sounds like a—”
“Excuse me.” Sarah pulled her hand free of Logan’s warm grip and managed a breezy smile. “My little girl wants her mother.” Turning neatly on her heel, she headed for the back room.
Was she disappointed that a certain dreamboat of a man was bound to lose interest fast when faced with a crying baby?
A little, maybe. But not that disappointed.
Really, it was for the best.
* * *
Logan Crawford watched Sarah’s bouncing ponytail as she trotted away from him. What was it about her? Those big golden-brown eyes, all that shining bronze hair? That smile she had that was shy and devilish simultaneously? Damned if that smile didn’t dare him to kiss her.
He would take that dare at the first opportunity.
Was she married?
He hadn’t seen a ring—and yeah, the baby kind of gave him pause.
But not that much of a pause. He could work around the baby. As long as she was single, well, why shouldn’t the two of them have a little fun? Nothing lasted forever and he liked it that way.
It was chemistry, pure and simple. Sexual attraction. And damn, it felt good.
His dad was still talking to the other two women, while Xander just stood there looking midway between vaguely intrigued and slightly annoyed by what they were saying.
Logan, on the other hand, felt downright invigorated. He hadn’t felt like this in years. Maybe never. Lately, he’d been kind of off his game when it came to women. He just had no drive to hook up and hadn’t been with anyone in months.
But everything had changed the minute he set eyes on Sarah.
Just let her be single. That was all he asked.
She emerged from the back room with a backpack-style diaper bag hanging off one shoulder, a giant leather tote dangling from one hand and a pouty-faced infant in a baby carrier on the other arm. “Sorry, everyone. We’ll just be going.”
Uh-uh. Not yet. In four strides, Logan reached her. “Here. Let me help you.” The baby stuck a fist in her mouth and stared up at him, wide-eyed.
“No, really.” Sarah seemed flustered. Her cheeks had turned the sweetest shade of pink. “There’s no need. I’m good.”
He ignored her objections and eased the diaper bag off her shoulder. “What’s her name?” He took hold of the tote. For a moment, she held on like she wouldn’t let him take it.
But then she let go. “Sophia,” she said. “Her name is Sophia.”
“Pretty name. How old is she?” He wiggled his eyebrows at the baby, who had a pink cloth flower tied around her mostly bald head.
“Five months,” said Sarah.
The baby took her slobbery hand out of her mouth long enough to announce, “Ah-da!” and stuck it right back in.
Behind him, his dad started flapping his jaws again, apologizing for trying to set them up. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I didn’t see a ring on your finger and I assumed—”
“You assumed right,” Sarah responded coolly. “I’m not married.”
Excellent. “But are you engaged?” Logan rattled off the pertinent questions. “Living with someone? Dating exclusively?”
“None of the above,” she replied. “It’s just me and Sophia.” As if on cue, the little girl let out a goofy giggle around the fist in her mouth. Sarah added, delectably defiant, “Just us. And we like it that way.”
So she’s free. It was all Logan needed to know.
Unfortunately—and for no reason Logan could understand—Max moved in next to him. “Son, Sarah has to go. Give her back her things.”
Not happening. Not yet. “Give us a minute, would you, Dad?” He turned his back on his father and moved in closer to Sarah and little Sophia. That caused Sarah to retreat a step. Logan closed the distance. The process repeated—Sarah retreating, Logan eliminating the space she’d created—until they reached the door.
A glance over his shoulder revealed that Max had started talking to the wedding planners again. His dad and the blonde wedding planner shook hands. Logan made a mental note to find out what that was about as he turned his attention back to the irresistible brown-eyed girl.
She said, “I really do have to go.”
Logan held on to her tote and diaper bag and started talking, pulling out all the stops, flirting shamelessly with both the woman and her baby. He made silly faces at Sophia as he coaxed information from Sarah, learning that she’d moved back to Rust Creek Falls a month before and had a cottage in town.
“Truly, Logan.” Sarah’s pretty white teeth nibbled nervously at her plump lower lip, driving him just a little bit crazy. He wanted to nibble on that lip himself. “I’m not interested in dating. I’m way too busy for anything like that.”
He nodded. “I understand. Let me help you out to your car.”
“No, that’s not necessary.”
“Yeah, it is. You’ve got too much to carry and I’ve got a couple of perfectly good free hands.”
Her sweet mouth twisted with indecision—and then she gave up. “Well, um, okay. Thank you.”
He walked her out to her white CR-V and waited while she strapped the baby’s carrier in the back seat, handing her the giant bag and backpack when she was ready for them. She set them on the floor, shut the door and went around to the driver’s door. Admiring the view, Logan followed after her.
“Well,” she said with an overly bright smile as he held open the door for her. “Good luck, then—with the ranch and all.”
“’Preciate that,” he replied. She jumped in behind the wheel, her denim skirt riding up a little, giving him a perfect glimpse of one smooth, shapely thigh. “Drive safe,” he said and shut the door.
She waved as she pulled out. He stood in the warm June sunlight, watching her drive away, thinking that he would be good for her, that she needed to get out and have some fun.
Sarah Turner deserved a little romance in her life and Logan Crawford was just the man to give her what she deserved.
Copyright © 2019 by Harlequin Books S.A.
ISBN-13: 9781488042126
More than One Night
Copyright © 2019 by Maria F. Buscher
All rights reserved. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 22 Adelaide St. West, 40th Floor, Toronto, Ontario M5H 4E3, Canada.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
® and ™ are trademarks of the publisher. Trademarks indicated with ® are registered in the United States Patent and Trademark Office, the Canadian Intellectual Property Office and in other countries.
www.Harlequin.com
ine-share-buttons">share