Falling for Leigh

by Jennifer Snow

  “You’re sure? As I said, there’s no guarantee.”

  “Michelle, I’m sure. Nothing in life is guaranteed, but you certainly won’t succeed if you don’t try, right?” Her heart might break if after their meeting, this young woman chose the other parent.

  But that was a chance she had to take.

  * * *

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE you were able to get so much done with your hand in that cast,” Leigh said, leafing through Logan’s work that evening. Sure, it was impossible to read—more so than usual—but there were at least five chapters to add. She wasn’t sure, but she suspected it was almost reaching the end. The thought saddened her. She would miss him. She couldn’t help wishing he wasn’t heading back to the city, but then he had to win custody of his daughter and she wouldn’t want to take that away from him. If he didn’t win custody, though, and had to move to California and cobble a makeshift life with Amelia, she didn’t know if he’d ever trust anyone enough to love them.

  “Me, neither. I’m not sure I’m completely happy with the overall direction the book is heading in, but at least I have something to work with now. Better to have words to delete than no words at all.” Logan stood and stretched.

  “Great motto.” They’d been working for two hours and Leigh suppressed a yawn. “Need a break?” she asked.

  “Tempting...but no, let’s keep going. There are really only a few scenes left for tonight,” he said, scanning what was left. “Where are we on word count?”

  “Eighty-three thousand and fifty-four words.” Wow, she couldn’t imagine writing that much.

  “Great. We’re on track to hit the ninety-thousand mark,” he said, sitting back on the bench next to her. “The faster we get this done, the faster you’ll be rid of me and have your evenings back.”

  The realization that he was right hit her with an unexpected anxiety. When he first asked for her help, she’d dreaded giving up her personal time, but now she wasn’t looking forward to the quiet, lonely evenings. She shook the thought away. Think about the baby. Hopefully soon there would be a new addition to her life. Lonely would no longer be an option. “Thank God,” she said, but her attempt to tease failed when her gaze met his.

  “I’m going to miss this, too,” Logan said, touching her cheek, quickly, softly, before returning to the work. “Okay, ready?”

  The moment was gone and an incredible wave of disappointment cascaded over her. Get a grip. There shouldn’t even have been a moment. Lately, there seemed to be too many moments and unfortunately they were a cruel tease of what couldn’t be.

  “Ready,” she said, but as she typed the words he dictated, she grew fidgety. She bit her bottom lip, fighting the urge to share her thoughts with him. This was his book—just type. Just type....

  She stopped typing. “Logan, are you sure this is the way you want this to go?” The detective was about to walk straight into his own demise, and while she hadn’t even read the entire series, even she wasn’t happy about it. His faithful fans were going to be disappointed.

  “No, I’m not.” He raked a hand through his hair. “But I’ve got one week.” He frowned and his own hesitancy was written all over his face.

  “But your fans—”

  “Will be disappointed that he dies.”

  “And not to mention how they’ll feel about him leaving Piper.”

  Logan frowned. “Okay, now you’ve lost me.”

  “Well, I just mean the obvious connection between Van and Piper, the chemistry. They’re perfect for each other. And the fans—”

  Logan held up a hand. “They’re just partners.”

  Leigh’s mouth fell open. “You mean you didn’t do it on purpose?”

  “Do what?”

  “Are you serious?” His silent bewilderment suggested he was. “Logan, you’ve created a romance behind the mystery. You do realize that, right?” How on earth could he not see the attraction between the detective and his partner? These were characters he’d created and yet he hadn’t purposely developed this secondary story line? She’d only read half of the first two books and part of this last one and it was evident to her.

  “You’re crazy. Piper is just his sidekick.”

  “A sidekick who adores him. Come on, Logan.” She scrolled back to one of the first scenes she’d helped him with. “Right here, when she’s bandaging his gunshot wound, chemistry...a lot of chemistry...” She scrolled. “And here when she isn’t sure if he was in the burning vehicle. These are distraught tears of someone in love, not just a partner.”

  “I don’t know, Leigh. I think you might be imagining it.”

  “He calls her baby girl throughout the book.”

  “He does that in every book, a little sister affection.”

  Leigh shuddered. “Granted, I didn’t grow up with a brother, but I’m pretty sure if I had one he wouldn’t refer to me that intimately. Logan, these two characters love each other.”

  “Are you sure?” Taking the laptop from her, he searched the page.

  “No! I’m definitely not sure, seeing as how these are your characters, not mine. But, trust me, if these two don’t belong together, no one does.”

  Logan let out a deep sigh. “So what you’re saying is, if I kill Van Gardener, fans are going to hunt me down.”

  “I’d hire a bodyguard.”

  Logan laughed and reaching across, he tucked a stray dark strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand cup the side of her face. “You wouldn’t be looking to make a career change, would you?”

  The flirting between them was wrong, dangerous and ultimately leading nowhere. It had to stop. Turning her head, she moved out of his reach. “Well, what are you going to do?”

  “I have no idea, but I know what I’m not going to do,” he said, crumpling the last stack of handwritten pages.

  “Kill Van Gardener?”

  “You got it.” He stood. “Well, I guess that means we should stop for tonight. No sense going any further until I figure out how the book ends.”

  Leigh checked her watch. Just after eight. She was disappointed to have the night end so soon. She had plenty of work to do on the nursery to occupy her time, a nagging voice said. She forced it away. She’d have plenty of time when Logan left as well. She hesitated a second longer, then asked, “Did you want to go grab a coffee?” The invite was totally transparent, considering she always had coffee with her in her Thermos and they’d consumed copious amounts already that evening.

  “Any more coffee and we’ll both be buzzing, but don’t worry, I wasn’t planning to let you go just yet.”

  She was grateful for the dim lighting inside the gazebo as she felt her cheeks grow hot. But the realization that he didn’t want the night to end just yet, either, eased her embarrassment.

  “I need to get to a clothing store. Is anything still open around here?” he asked, sliding his laptop into the case.

  “The mall stores are open until ten tonight. What do you need?” she asked before she could register that it was none of her business. After all, hadn’t he implied that he wanted her to come along?

  “A dress shirt and tie. I didn’t exactly pack anything dressy before leaving the city, but apparently I somehow agreed to attend that murder-mystery party at the community hall tomorrow night.” Logan tossed the bag over his shoulder.

  “You met Mrs. Dawson, I take it.” Leigh laughed. That woman could convince anyone to do anything.

  “Don’t laugh. I’m taking you with me.”

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  “It’s too late to come up with an excuse. Besides, normally you’d be helping me tomorrow evening anyway, so I know you’re free.”

  He had a point. But after their last outing, she suspected rumors were already spreading through town quickly. She didn’t need the attention on
herself, especially inaccurate gossip about a possible relationship, not when she was hoping to adopt a child.

  “Come on, Leigh.” He rubbed her arm affectionately, a puppy dog look on his handsome face. “After all, you did push me off a ladder.”

  “Fine,” she said with a sigh. “But that’s the last time you can use that one.”

  “Deal.”

  “Okay, let’s go.” She stopped and stared at his unruly hair and more-than-a-little-scruffy beard. Then taking out her phone, she dialed the number to Klip and Dye, the only hair salon in town.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “Someone who can clean you up a little.”

  * * *

  THE BROOKVIEW SQUARE MALL in the town square was practically empty at that time of night and once again Logan couldn’t believe just how quiet everything was in the town. In the city, things were fast-paced and alive at any time of day and night. Growing up in California had been the same. He wasn’t used to the slow pace or quiet of Brookhollow, but he was certainly growing to enjoy it. Not feeling crammed in a rat race of concrete and steel on a daily basis had done wonders for his writer’s block. He couldn’t help thinking that Amelia would love it here. If the court case went his way... He wouldn’t allow himself to go there just yet. Turning, he saw Leigh staring at him. “What?”

  Her cheeks turned a shade similar to her pale pink shirt. “Nothing...I just can’t believe how different you look—clean-shaven.”

  They’d just left Klip and Dye on Main Street, where the salon’s owner, a spirited, older woman named Alice, had cut his hair and shaved the days-old scruff off his chin. For the first time in weeks, he felt like his old self again. “Different good or different bad?”

  Without answering, Leigh turned away and headed down a mall corridor.

  Quickening his strides, Logan passed her; then walking backward in front of her, he said, “Admit it, you think I’m hot, don’t you?”

  Leigh scoffed, pushing him out of her way as she continued on.

  He smiled. She did. She found him just as attractive as he found her. “Oh, come on, you must find me at least a little bit handsome...cute?...easy on the eyes?”

  She paused and stared at him for a long moment. “You’re...better looking in person than you are on your book covers,” she said. “That’s all you’re getting. Fish for compliments somewhere else.”

  “I thought you said you hadn’t seen my series.” He hated those photos they insisted on putting on the book jackets. They always made him look stuffy and arrogant.

  “I may have seen them somewhere in town.”

  He studied her. “Did you buy them?”

  “I...may have,” she said as she pulled him into the men’s clothing store on their left.

  “Hey, Leigh, what brings you by?” asked an older man hemming a pair of black dress pants behind the desk as they entered.

  “Hi, Melvin. This guy needs your help...badly,” she added with a smirk.

  “What’s the occasion?” Melvin asked, coming around the desk to size him up.

  “The murder-mystery event at the community hall tomorrow night.”

  “Ah...Darlene Dawson strikes again,” the man said with a nod. “I always hide in the stockroom whenever she comes in.”

  Leigh and Logan laughed.

  “Hey, Melvin, do you have these pants in a thirty-six waist?” asked a man, coming out of the changing room holding a pair of dark charcoal dress pants. He was wearing only boxer briefs and gray dress socks.

  At Logan’s side, Leigh’s eyes widened. As she quickly turned away from the sight of the half-dressed man holding the pants, she collided with a rack of suit jackets, sending several to the floor.

  “Shoot, sorry,” she mumbled, bending to pick them up.

  The man from the changing room also seemed surprised, but there was a trace of something else in his light blue eyes. Curiosity maybe? From their reactions to the sight of each other, Logan was guessing this was the infamous ex-husband. The jerk who’d left Leigh at her most vulnerable. He clenched his fists at his sides, and the hand in the cast spasmed in pain.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize there was anyone else in the store,” the ex said.

  Of course. It was just a public mall, why would there be anyone else in the store? “Nice boxers,” Logan said, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to be mature.

  Glancing down at his pumpkin-orange boxers with the happy faces, the ex quickly covered himself with the pants he held, backing into the change room. “Thirty-sixes, Mel?” he said quickly before shutting the door.

  “I’ll take a look,” Melvin said, heading toward the circular pants display. “I’ll be with you folks in just a moment, once I get Neil straightened away.”

  “Take your time,” Logan said. Turning to Leigh, who’d yet to regain her color from the sight of her ex in his boxer shorts, he said casually, “Someone you know?”

  “There’re not many people I don’t know in Brookhollow,” she said, avoiding his eyes. She headed for the far wall, where different-colored dress shirts hung on racks. Glancing at him quickly, she reached for a light gray one. “Size sixteen?”

  “And a half,” he said, folding his arms. “But I suspect you may know this particular man better than most?” He took the shirt she held out.

  She continued to the tie tables, approaching the darker end of the spectrum of ties on display. “You’re annoying.”

  “I’ve heard that before. So I’m right, that’s him?”

  Across the store, the man came out of the changing room again, this time fully dressed.

  “Yes.”

  “Can I hit him?”

  “No!”

  Her loud exclamation caught the attention of the ex and the storekeeper.

  “I guess she doesn’t like this one,” Logan said, quickly holding up a pink tie. Then dropping it, he whispered, “I mean normally I’m not that tough, but I’m sure this thing could pack a punch.” He held up his cast.

  Leigh laughed as she punched his arm. “Focus on ties,” she said. Scanning them, she added, “I don’t know you well enough to know what you might like.”

  “Don’t you?” His hand covered hers as she reached for a black-and-silver-striped pattern.

  The ex cleared his throat to their right. “Hi, Leigh.”

  They both turned to face him.

  “Hi, Neil.”

  “Sorry about that.”

  Be sorry for interrupting.

  “Don’t be, it’s...fine. Um, Neil, this is Logan Walters.”

  “Hey, man,” Neil said, extending a hand.

  Seriously? The last thing he wanted to do was shake this guy’s hand. After the pain he’d caused Leigh. No way could he do it.

  Leigh’s elbow made contact with his side.

  “Hi,” he muttered, extending his left hand for a quick handshake, before letting Neil’s drop as though he’d been burned.

  “Well, I better go. See you. Pleasure meeting you, Logan,” the ex said, but the jealousy and annoyance reflecting in his eyes were undeniable.

  Good. Be jealous, be annoyed. It was about time Leigh was able to inflict the same kinds of emotions on her ex that she no doubt had to feel every time she saw him with his new family, which Logan suspected was often in the small town. He simply nodded as the ex walked away.

  “Thank you for not making a scene,” Leigh said.

  “You’re welcome,” he said. “I only did it for you. I really could have taken him, you know.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE NEW JERSEY Adoption Center in Newark was so quiet Leigh could hear the steady pounding of her heart in her chest as she waited in the front reception for Michelle Bennett the next morning. The dark tan clinic walls were covered with p
osters of happy, successful adoption stories and pictures of children with their adoptive and biological families—reminders that open adoption could be beneficial to all parties involved. On the coffee table in front of her were books of testimonials and letters of thanks to the clinic, but as she leafed through them, she found herself only growing more anxious. She wanted this so much, and to be this close...

  The receptionist appeared in the waiting area, her file in hand. “Leigh, Michelle and Lise are ready for you. Would you like water or coffee?”

  Leigh shook her head as she stood, wiping her sweaty palms in the legs of her dark gray dress pants. On shaky legs, she followed the receptionist down the hall to a room labeled Parent Meeting Room. She hesitated at the door, tugging at her cashmere sweater and tossing her hair over her shoulder. Why hadn’t she worn something lighter? She felt as though she was suffocating in the thick blue turtleneck. She released a ragged breath as she reached for the door handle.

  “Take your time. Go in when you’re ready.” The young woman smiled knowingly and handed her the file.

  Leigh suspected she wasn’t the first person to be paralyzed upon the realization that an adoption, quite possibly, was about to become a reality. “This happens a lot?”

  “Every time,” she said before leaving her alone in the hallway.

  Leigh closed her eyes. She could do this. No matter what happened, she was prepared, she told herself. Taking several deep breaths, she turned the knob and entered the room quietly.

  Michelle stood as she came in, but Leigh’s gaze immediately went to the very pregnant young woman sitting on the love seat near the wall-mount fireplace. Inside the room were several chairs and even a small kitchenette. Michelle had said these meetings could take hours or minutes and be prepared for the first. “Hi, Leigh, come on in,” she said now.

  “Hi,” the girl said with a nervous smile as she studied her. “Sorry, I’d get up but it’s quite the process.” She touched her large belly.