by J. M. Madden
She spun and left the office. With a final wave, Logan turned and followed her swinging hips, feeling like his life was not his own anymore.
“Let me grab my jacket and bag,” she said, glancing back at him. She was gone for less than a minute, then they waded back through the still-milling group in the reception area to the elevator. She pulled on her jacket as she waited for the doors to open. Once on, she turned to him and stuck out a hand, smiling brilliantly, her demeanor completely open. “I’m Marigold Lee. Sorry about the tension in the office, there. Mr. Palmer made an ass of himself when he hired me on and I’m not letting him forget it. I’m going to drag it out as long as I can.”
Logan barked out a laugh, more than a little taken off guard, but charmed. “No problem. I’m sorry you have to be my driver.”
She turned and faced the front. “Oh, I’m not. They’re having this big meeting in a little bit and it’ll be boring in the office anyway. I was just about to break for lunch. Now that Shannon is back, she’ll want to be in on the meeting. How long are you in Denver?”
Logan blinked, trying to follow her changing subjects. “Um, not sure. I guess the group is going to help me find any stray family I might have out here. Or at least figure out some history.”
She nodded, glancing at him. “I will say, Gunny Palmer is thorough. If there’s anyone out there, he’ll find them for you.”
Logan sighed, appreciating her easy manner. “I don’t think there’s anyone out here, honestly. My dad said most of them were dead, basically, or very old. I kind of just want to look at where I was born and stuff. Get a feeling for my roots.”
She turned to look at him, and he realized suddenly that his wounded side was to her, on full display. His face started to heat, because he could feel her looking at him. “I can understand that,” she murmured. “It’s important to know your history.”
The doors opened, then, saving him from a response. They headed out into the parking lot, and she strode toward Palmer’s red truck. Once there she leaned over the side rail and drew out Logan’s bags. Adjusting his crutches, Logan took one from her, and motioned with his head. “Which car is yours?”
Without fighting over the bag, Marigold led him to a deep navy-blue Volkswagen Beetle. Logan chuckled, eyeing the back seat. Could he even get his bags in there?
It took some finagling and both of them working from opposite sides, but they got the bags in. Logan settled gratefully into the passenger seat, his legs throbbing. It had been a long time since he’d been on his feet this much, and he was looking forward to getting to a hotel and just chilling out. Assuming he could even get himself out of the low-slung car.
Marigold settled in beside him, her shoulder brushing his own in the confines of the car, sending a shiver through him. When had he last even responded to a female like that? It didn’t bear thought. He shifted his shoulders toward the door to give her more room. The sweet and tangy scent of oranges wrapped around him, and he wondered if she had an air-freshener in the car.
“Do you want cheap, moderate or expensive?” she asked, dark, sleek brows lifted as she turned the ignition. The diesel rumbled to life.
He snorted. “How about somewhere in between?”
“You got it!”
They headed out of the parking lot and down the street, the Beetle seeming to find every pothole to rattle his bones. Logan felt like he needed to fill the silence, which was odd. He wasn’t normally the talkative one. “How long have you worked with the group?”
Marigold swerved smoothly around a slow turning semi. “Mm, about a month, now. I’ve enrolled at UC Denver for the fall quarter but it doesn’t start for a few months, so I’m getting as many hours in at LNF as I can. And Shannon has needed help for a while. Holy crap, that woman is a machine.”
“It sounds like it,” he murmured. “They have twins, too, right?”
Marigold nodded. “Yeah, I think they’re about two. I overheard Gunny freaking out when Shannon’s flight got cancelled.”
Logan watched the scenery roll by. They were getting into a more commercial area now, and he spotted several hotel signs. “Any of these will be fine,” he told her.
Marigold put on her blinker and swung into the parking lot of a Hampton Inn. “These are usually decent. Their breakfasts can be a little weird with the powdered scrambled eggs, but it can’t be any worse than what you ate in the military probably. Unless you were Air Force. They seem to get the good shit.”
She glanced at him expectantly and he shook his head. “Nope. Good old Army. We had the best dog food the government could buy.”
Marigold gave a throaty laugh as she pulled up into the check in area. Logan swung his door open and maneuvered his crutches out onto the pavement, then strained to get himself out of the car. His face heated as he struggled to get his legs and crutches going in the same direction. “Back in a minute.”
The attendant gave him a considering look as he walked in, obviously trying to look at Logan’s scars without appearing to. “Will you be joining us this afternoon?”
“Yes. Probably for several days, actually.”
He had no idea how long it would take Palmer to dig into his background, but he needed to be close by, probably.
Logan handed over his credit card and took the room cards the guy handed him. When he turned to retrieve his bags, Marigold was just dragging them through the door. “I would have gotten them,” he said defensively.
She grinned at him. “I know.”
She let him take the handle of the roller bag, their hands brushing. Logan looked at her. The woman hadn’t seemed curious or affected by his injuries, which was a refreshing change.
Reaching into her jacket pocket she retrieved her cell phone. “What’s your number?”
Logan rattled off the digits, and he felt the phone buzz in his pocket with a text message. “If you need anything, let me know. I don’t live too far away from here.”
“I will, Marigold. Thank you very much for the ride.”
She grinned at him. “Any time!” she promised, before turning to head out the door.
Logan watched her ass for a bare moment before turning to head toward the elevator and his room. Dragging the bags through the doors of the elevator, he turned around. His own face stared back at him from the reflection of the elevator wall, flushed and not nearly as handsome as he used to be. One of the hardest things to get used to when he’d been recovering had been the changes in his own appearance. The missing hair at the side of his head he could deal with. If he kept his hair long enough it wasn’t really noticeable anyway. His face, though... It looked like he’d stood too close to a blast furnace, or something, the skin sagging and pulling on the lower edge of his right eye.
He missed just standing up without pain and walking across a room. Little things like that didn’t even occur to you during day to day activities. Not until you couldn’t do them any longer. Since he’d been injured he’d felt like he’d aged about forty years, and he didn’t like it. The doctors said he might get a little better, but to not get his hopes up. More than likely he had a lifetime of pain pills ahead of him.
The elevator doors opened and he pushed through. Glancing at the placard on the wall he headed for his room. Of course it was all the way at the end.
Shoving through the final door, he threw his bags against the wall, locked the door and turned toward the bed. He needed to get off his legs for a while. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was asleep.
Marigold didn’t even remember getting to the car. Her nerves were humming in a way that she’d never felt before. As soon as she’d looked up and seen the scarred man standing in the elevator doorway, and his incredible blue-green eyes, something had clicked inside her, some intangible recognition software suddenly activating.
Logan Vance had to be a bit over six feet tall. With the other LNF men in the reception area, he’d fit right in with the group, with broad shoulders and a strong upper body. Whatever his injury was, it impe
ded the locomotion in his lower half, but it appeared as if his top half had more than learned to compensate. Though he could have appeared weak with his arms in braces, he really didn’t.
Logan seemed to realize that he fit in as well. There was a bit of a shell-shocked look on his face, like he hadn’t expected to see so many vets in one place like this.
When Gunny Palmer had called her into his office, she’d gone quickly, anticipation humming in her blood. The new guy was standing to the side of the door and as she stood beside him, she realized that they were almost the same height. She wanted to step closer and look at him without his flinching away, study his brilliant eyes and the scars that meandered down the right side of his face, and the thick, dark curls that peeked from beneath his cap, but she didn’t think that would happen. Even as she entered the room, he turned more fully away. She wanted to scream at him that she wouldn’t reject him, but of course, that would be extremely counter-productive.
She put on the offended act for Palmer, but internally she was dancing up and down in excitement. There was some reason she was supposed to get to know Logan Vance, and she would do her best to do it.
Marigold had wanted to seem intriguing and sophisticated, but she was sure she didn’t attain either. It just wasn’t her. She thought she attained comfortable and girl-next-door, which would have to be good enough.
She left him at his door reluctantly. If she could have come up with some bullshit excuse to stay with him she would have, but she had seen the tiredness in his face. Logan needed to relax, so she’d left him alone.
5
“Are you ready?”
John looked up from whatever he was looking at on the tablet, snatching off the wire-framed reading glasses. Shannon didn’t understand why he was so vain. As people got older, they needed to use glasses. It was no big deal.
Crossing the office and circling the desk, she retrieved the glasses he’d hidden in the drawer and slid them onto his face, then sat on the edge of the desk in front of him. “I think these make you look handsome.”
Leaning in, she pressed a kiss to his frowning mouth.
“They make me look old,” he grumbled.
“Sophisticated,” she contradicted, reaching her tongue out to touch his lips.
John drew in a breath. “Senile.”
She giggled. “Doddering.”
“Hey,” he protested. “You’re supposed to be building me up, not agreeing.”
“Sorry, baby,” she laughed.
John grinned and pulled her across his lap, fitting her ass into his groin. “I know this isn’t the time or the place, but we really need to make time for us tonight.”
“I completely agree,” she sighed. “It was only a week but it felt so much longer. I can’t wait to see my boys.”
“They’ll be all over you.”
She rested her head on his shoulder. “Let’s get this meeting out of the way and see if we can slip out early. Marigold did an excellent job keeping up. I don’t have nearly the work I expected to.”
And that was an understatement. The woman was a dream. She was very mature for her age but there was an inherent sadness to her personality. Several times over the past month Shannon had seen her watching the men a little oddly. When she’d asked her about it, Marigold had explained about her father. He would have been a little younger than Duncan. She watched the men because she could almost imagine one of them could be her father. Shannon had teared up, then, and wrapped the girl in her arms.
“I’m so sorry you lost your dad,” she whispered.
Marigold had taken the hug, then pushed away, seeming a little embarrassed. Shannon wasn’t quite old enough to be her mother but in that moment she’d felt like the younger woman had needed a hug from a parent. Shannon had been on the verge of asking about her mother when Marigold had sent the conversation into another direction.
Shannon had a feeling that she would be around for a long time, though, so they would have another chance to talk.
When they rolled into the conference room, it was almost packed. Duncan was seated in the middle of the far long side, with Parker Quinn to his right. There were stacks of paperwork in front of him. Lost and Found’s attorney, Calanthe Kemp, sat on Duncan’s other side, looking beautifully reserved throughout the chaos, pointing out things with her Mont Blanc pen. Shannon liked Calanthe a lot, but she seemed a little lost when it came to interpersonal communications. The rest of the LNF crew sat along the length of the table, ready to plan the expansion. The guy that Parker had brought with him sat on the other side of him, rocked back in the chair, face under shadow. If she was asked what the guy looked like, she was sure she wouldn’t be able to give an answer. His name was Brady? Brody? She would need to pin that down before he left.
Duncan already had a lot of the cogs in place for the business set up. Shannon knew he’d been planning this expansion almost as soon as he’d spoken to Parker last year, he’d had that much faith in him. There was plenty of work in Columbus. Statistically they were the larger city. Yes, the area had other investigative companies, but with Parker’s connections to the prosecutor’s office, he had a bit of an in with a lot of work. And as of right now, he was swamped. Even this meeting today was a quick trip. They would have dinner with the group tonight, then take the red eye home.
Shannon had worked on the details of the contract with Duncan and Calanthe, and Parker had been sent an early copy. It was potentially profitable for both sides, and she didn’t think there would be any sticking points. Parker was being given a very large amount of company money to procure office space, a couple of vehicles and hire several investigators. Parker and Andromeda already had a lead on the office space, as well as two investigators they wanted to hire. They also had an office manager in mind.
Then he got to the section about buying LNF out. His silver eyes narrowed and he looked at Duncan. “Are you serious about this?”
The older man snorted. “Well, since it’s in the contract...”
Parker’s mouth worked, like he was trying to control his emotions. “Thank you, First Sergeant.”
LNF Columbus would hire veterans, just like the Denver office, and Duncan would like some input into the people hired. If any of the guards at the Denver or Vail office wanted to transfer they would be given the option, on a short-term basis. If they wanted to stay long-term it would be up to both branches to agree.
Shannon knew that everything in the contract had been worked out ahead of time and the meeting itself was just a formality, but it was important to observe the protocols. Parker would need a lot of support when he did eventually start the company, which should be within the next few weeks. Parker already had a couple of clients lined up for when they did get to open their doors.
“I took the incentive and had some stationery printed up for you,” John said suddenly, his dark eyes twinkling.
Oh, John...
Chad moved to the corner of the room and collected a white, cardboard box. He set the box in front of Palmer, then returned to his chair.
“We were thinking up names for the Columbus division of LNF. You know, a way we can differentiate between the groups. Officially you’ll be called Lost and Found- Columbus, which is just incredibly ingenious,” he rolled his dark eyes, “but un-officially, we thought we needed something a little more... interesting.”
Duncan rocked back in his chair, smiling. Shannon knew the guys wouldn’t have done anything without his knowing about it.
“We went through a bunch of options,” John continued. “There was Arch City Investigations. Union Blue Security. Did you know Columbus was known for blue jackets because they manufactured so many Union jackets during the war?”
John looked at him expectantly, and Parker shook his head, a bemused smile tilting his mouth. “I had no idea.”
“But that wasn’t quite right either,” John told him, removing a stack of something white from the box. He held it in front of him as he posed thoughtfully. “We thought a
bout calling you Chapter Three, or Cbus Brigade. But that just didn’t sound right. Then someone came up with the Olentangy Pansies.”
Zeke raised his hand, grinning crookedly. “T-that was mine.”
John gave him a golf clap. “Excellent suggestion, Zeke. But Dunc said it has to be PG, so we settled on this.”
He slid the bundle down the table to Parker. The other man looked at the stack of notepads in front of him, brows quirked over his dark grey eyes. “Seriously? The Buckeye Brigade?”
Snorts and laughter rippled up and down the table. Shannon grinned, straightening the papers in front of her. She might have had a small hand in ordering the stationery.
“What the fuck is wrong with you people?”
Shannon’s eyes widened at Parker’s angry bellow. How had that flipped so quickly?
“Do you think you’re better than us?” he hissed, rising to his feet, his fists clenched around the notepads. “Better than me? Why the hell do you think you can talk down to me? Just because you’re fronting the money it doesn’t mean I’m going to let you Denver Dicks belittle me.”
Shannon blinked, her mouth open. Had he just called them dicks?
The room erupted into howls of laughter. John turned his chair to Parker and clasped his hand, laughing. “You crazy fucker.”
Parker grinned. “The difference being, since it’s only me and Brody right this minute, I can be as non-PC as I want to be.”
The men crowded around the group, laughing, and Shannon snapped a few pictures with her phone. A new business had been born.
6
It was a damn party at work that day.
John didn’t remember there being this much excitement when they branched off to Vail, but Vail was at least still in the state. Maybe that was the difference. Columbus seemed like a very long way away, and more of an event. Plus, it had been a long time since Parker had been in the offices, and he’d been missed. John had a feeling it would be a flourishing business in no time.