Crazy for Her (A K2 Team Novel)

by Owens, Sandra

  Dani went to the curtains and parted them enough to peer out. “Do you think he’s out there now?”

  “No, I did a thorough search this morning and didn’t see any sign of him.”

  She raised a brow. “And here I thought you just got up. I suppose you ran ten miles while you were at it?”

  “No, only three.”

  “Jeez, Logan, you’re getting lazy in your old age.”

  “More like I didn’t want to leave you alone for too long.”

  “Oh.” She peeked out the window again.

  Having him here made her feel safe, but she resented it. He awakened needs she hadn’t felt since Evan died. But Logan wasn’t there for her; it was more like some kind of obligation he thought he owed Evan. How much had she disrupted his life by asking him to come?

  Dropping the curtain, she spun. “I have to get out of this house.”

  He stopped making faces at Regan and focused on her. “Sure. Give me twenty minutes to shower and change, and I’ll take you out to lunch. You can show me around a little if you want.”

  She wanted. “Make it thirty minutes. It’ll take me that long to get ready.”

  Dani walked next to Logan as they strolled past a sidewalk café in downtown Asheville. The city, considered one of the most diverse in the country, had something for everyone. With open arms, the town welcomed artists, musicians, and anyone wanting to make a movie. Cold Mountain and The Hunger Games, both filmed around Asheville, were in her DVD collection, and she wondered if Logan would enjoy watching them with her. They passed a small group of men and women in flowing robes dancing around a large tree.

  “What’s that all about?” Logan asked.

  “They’re Wiccans. The tree is like three hundred years old, but it’s dying. They’re convinced they can heal it.”

  He snorted, causing her to laugh. She loved it in Asheville, witches and all. Her annual pass to the Biltmore Estate allowed her to visit any time she wanted. Often, she would take Regan and rent one of their bicycles with a baby seat and they’d spend several hours riding the winding paths, stopping at the pond to feed the ducks. The only other place she might like living as much as she did the mountains was the beach.

  Two women dressed in business suits walked past, both eyeing Logan in open appreciation even though he cradled a baby in a carrier on his chest. Dani smiled in amusement. It didn’t seem to matter to them that the woman walking with him could be his wife. He’d insisted on carrying Regan, and she had willingly let him. Just this morning, the man had been terrified of holding her daughter, and now he looked as if he’d been doing it for years.

  A display of old, recovered windows caught Dani’s attention, and she pointed to one. “Oh, I love it,” she said of the one with a distressed frame and stained-glass panes. It would be beautiful hanging in front of her bedroom window. She could wake up every morning to see the sun shining through it, all the colors dancing over her walls and ceiling.

  “It would be perfect in your bedroom,” Logan said.

  She glanced at him and grinned, pleased he saw it the way she did.

  He pointed to a mirror. “That one there, you could use it in one of your Regency stories. Picture your hero visiting his mistress with that in her room.”

  The mirror was awful, and she loved it. Red velvet covered the frame, and the silhouette of a woman’s nude body was painted in black along one edge. She visualized the scene he’d just described. In the movie running through her mind, the heroine barged into the room catching her betrothed in the act of making love to his mistress in front of the mirror. He would realize what he’d lost when the heroine called off the wedding and he’d have to—

  “Dani!”

  Jerked back to the present by the urgency in Logan’s voice, she turned toward him. He pulled off the carrier, handing her Regan.

  “Don’t move from this spot,” he said, and turned to leave. Stopping, he turned back and wrapped his hand around her upper arm. “Better yet, go inside the store and wait for me there.”

  He left her then, jogging away and disappearing around a corner. Where was he going? She started to follow, but glanced at Regan and stopped. Never would she do anything to put her daughter in danger, and she had promised to obey if he ever gave her instructions.

  Turning, she entered the store. While anxiously awaiting Logan’s return, she purchased the stained-glass window and—on a whim—bought the mirror. After arranging for the delivery, she browsed around—twice telling the overbearing clerk she didn’t have any questions. Well, she did, but the salesman couldn’t tell her where Logan had rushed off to.

  Fists clenched at his sides and chest heaving, Logan stood at the end of an alley as the black Ford F-250 with dark tinted windows sped away. Damn it to hell. If he’d been just a few seconds faster, he would’ve had the license plate number.

  The man standing across the street and watching them had caught his attention. For an instant, he thought he was seeing Evan. But the man was bulkier, and Evan would have never shaved his head. Unfortunately, the man had been too far away to see his features clearly. It wasn’t Evan—it couldn’t be. He had held Evan in his arms as he lay dying.

  Angry strides took Logan back to the store where he’d left Dani and Regan. Who the hell was he? None of this made sense. A stalker who left teddy bears and resembled Evan—one who seemed to want to step into Evan’s life, claiming his wife and daughter. It was bizarre and unsettling.

  “Are you going to answer my question, Logan?”

  He looked up from his pizza. They’d decided on the Wild Mushroom for lunch, and though the food was great, the music was so loud it hurt his ears. Also, the attitude of their waiter—along with the dreadlocks and rings in his eyebrow and nose—annoyed Logan to no end. The kid flirted with Dani as if Logan were invisible. Her husband died for your right to look like an idiot. He scowled at the waiter, satisfied when the boy scurried away.

  “What question?” he asked, though he had heard her.

  Dani sighed, then ignored him, tearing off a chunk of pizza crust and giving it to Regan to gnaw on. She was seriously annoyed, and he didn’t blame her.

  “She won’t choke on that?”

  Green eyes flashed with irritation. “No, the piece is too big. She’ll just gum it. Stop stalling. What happened? Why did you take off like that?”

  There it was again, the question he wanted to go away. Pushing the remainder of his pizza aside, he glanced at the baby girl with Evan’s hazel eyes. “I thought I saw Evan.”

  The blood drained from Dani’s face. Without giving it any thought, he slid around the table and pushed in next to her. “Dani, I didn’t see him. Listen to me. I didn’t see him. Whoever it was just looked a little like him.”

  She angrily pushed him away. “Stop it. They told me he’d been killed.” Fat, heartbreaking tears rolled down her cheeks. “Do you think it was him?” she said, hope in her voice.

  “No, I know it wasn’t.” Hurt that she didn’t want his comfort, Logan reluctantly moved back to his side of the table.

  She busied herself with putting Regan into the carrier. Once the straps were securely over her shoulders, she stood. “I want to go home.”

  After paying the bill, he escorted her and Regan to the car, all the while keeping an alert eye out for a man who resembled Evan. He glanced at Dani. Her day out had been ruined, and he didn’t know how to make it better.

  As soon as they arrived home, she’d disappeared into her room with Regan and the diaper bag, only coming out once to grab two jars of baby food. They’d been in there for hours. Logan stood in the hall and glared at the closed door. Was she all right? Stupid question, Kincaid. How could she be after learning the man stalking her not only sounded like her dead husband but also looked like him?

  Lifting his wrist, he pushed the button that lit his watch dial. Two in the
damned morning. He paced the hallway. On the way downtown, they’d stopped so he could overnight the teddy bear to Buchanan to see if he could lift any fingerprints. It would be a day or two before the results came back. There must be something else he could do in the meantime.

  He liked missions where he knew his target and had all the background intel on the bad guy. There was never any doubt who he was going after, what the dude’s habits were, or where he hung out. By the time he and his team finished studying him, they knew how many times he visited his mother and how many times he got laid, along with when, where, and for how long. With this creep, he was stumbling around in the dark, ineffective and useless.

  It pissed him off.

  With one last scowl at the door, he went to the kitchen and rummaged around in the refrigerator. He was hungry and tired of waiting for Dani to emerge from her room. She hadn’t eaten since their pizza at lunch. How was she supposed to keep her strength up if she didn’t eat? She was nursing, for God’s sake. Didn’t nursing mothers need nourishment?

  Opening a plastic container that looked like leftover Chinese, he sniffed it. It smelled good so he set it on the counter. In the cabinet, he found a plate, cup, and coffee beans. The coffee started, Logan stared at the microwave until he found the express button.

  “What are you heating up?”

  One glance at Dani and his mouth went dry. She had on a soft, short robe the color of her eyes. Her hair was tousled, her feet bare. He did a double take. No, he hadn’t imagined it. Her toenails were painted sky blue.

  “Wicked Blue.”

  “What?” He had no idea what she was talking about, but he liked the sound of it.

  She wiggled her toes. “The color. It’s called Wicked Blue.”

  It was a good name. Who knew he would find blue toenails sexy? Unable to resist, his gaze traveled up long legs and over the curves her robe couldn’t hide. A cold shower would probably be a good idea. When he reached her face, what he saw immediately doused his desire.

  “You’ve been crying.”

  One shoulder lifted in a shrug as she walked past him, picked up the container, and put it back in the refrigerator.

  “Hey, give that back. I’m hungry.”

  “So am I,” she said. “But I’m in the mood for comfort food.”

  “I was comfortable with that one.”

  That earned him a small smile, and his mind went to work thinking of other amusing things to say to wipe the tears from her eyes and keep her lips in an upward curve. Unfortunately, he was not a witty man. Evan was always the one with the humorous quips.

  “I’m going to make you something special.” She pulled a package of hotdogs out of the fridge.

  “Seriously? Hotdogs are your comfort food?”

  “Strange, but true. The coffee’s ready. Why don’t you make us a cup and then have a seat while I make you hotdogs like you’ve never had before.”

  He saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gave him a look, but he definitely saw her lips twitch. He made their coffee, left hers on the counter, and took his to the table. Reaching over to a radio tucked into a corner, she turned it on, tuning it to a jazz station. He liked jazz, but only late at night. Did she feel the same about the bluesy music? She didn’t seem to want to talk, so he sipped his coffee and sat back to watch her.

  After filling a pot with water, she turned on one of the burners and dropped in a bag of rice. From the pantry, she took out a can of diced tomatoes, opened it, and poured the contents into another pot, then added ground pepper and some kind of spice.

  “What was that?” he asked.

  “Oregano.”

  The hotdogs were sliced and then added to the tomatoes. The rice started to boil, and she turned the burner up on the hotdog concoction. Logan had his doubts about whatever she was cooking up, thinking he would have preferred the Chinese leftovers. If it made her happy to eat hotdog soup at two in the morning, though, he would gladly go along.

  When she stood on her toes and reached for the bowls, her robe rose up her thighs. He barely managed not to groan. If the woman had a clue what she was doing to him, she would wisely lock herself back in her room. The best thing to do was to close his eyes to the too-enticing view and concentrate on the music.

  Though he wasn’t sure, he thought he was listening to Miles Davis playing his trumpet. The sound was earthy and intimate, and he imagined making slow and easy love with Dani to the sounds coming out of the radio. How the picture formed in his mind was a mystery considering . . . well, considering.

  His eyes popped open, and he shifted uncomfortably, glad he was wearing his sweats instead of tight jeans. She placed a bowl in front of him and sat across from him. Logan looked down at the contents, then up at her.

  “This is the strangest use of hotdogs I’ve ever seen.” She’d poured the mixture over the rice, and it smelled surprisingly good.

  “It’s my guilty pleasure,” she said, and dug into her meal.

  He spooned some and took a tentative taste. Okay, that was good. Following her example, he dug in, scraping the bottom of the bowl. It was the perfect comfort food: simple, tasty, and filling. He caught her watching him and raised a brow.

  “You were a doubting Thomas,” she said.

  “You have me there. I couldn’t imagine hotdog soup could be so good.”

  Her eyes shimmered in pleasure. “Hotdog soup? I like it. I’ve never been able to think of a name for it. Would you like some more?” Before he could answer, she rushed on. “No, let’s have the brownies and ice cream we never got around to last night.”

  He glanced at the clock to see it was three in the morning. Sitting with her in the kitchen at a time when the world around them slept felt intimate. “I’ll make us another cup of coffee.”

  Silently working together, they had the coffee and dessert ready and on the table at the same time. It almost seemed as if they’d done this many times before. Had she and Evan ever shared late-night kitchen forays?

  “I mean it, Dani. I can’t keep eating like this,” he said, swallowing the last bite of brownies and ice cream.

  She groaned and rubbed her stomach. “I wish I could run with you tomorrow, but I can’t leave Regan alone. Suppose you go first and then watch her while I run off some of these calories?”

  Had she lost her mind? “No, I’m sorry, but you can’t. He’s out there and I’m not letting you take off on your own, out of my sight.”

  The light faded from her eyes and she pressed her fingertips to them. “I forgot,” she whispered. “How could I forget?”

  She walked out of the kitchen without a backward glance and disappeared back into her room. Logan wearily stood and washed the dishes, and dried and put them away. He turned off the lights and slipped out the back door, sitting on the steps of the deck. Listening for night sounds, he heard the chirps of crickets and the hoots of an owl and knew there was no one lurking in the dark.

  Dani slipped a T-shirt over her head and pulled on a pair of shorts. Sliding her feet into a pair of Black Dog flip-flops, she took a deep breath and followed the aroma of coffee to the kitchen. After getting up at six to feed Regan and play with her until she was tired enough to go back to sleep, Dani had crawled back into bed and slept until ten. She was tired, cranky, and in dire need of caffeine.

  “Coffee?” Logan asked when she stumbled into the room.

  “Hot tea,” she grumbled, though she longed for the coffee. But she’d drunk too much the night before, or had it been that morning? As much as she loved nursing Regan, there were definite drawbacks. She aimed for the cabinet, but Logan stepped in front of her.

  “Sit, I’ll make it for you.”

  She frowned at him.

  “Sit.”

  There was an edge to his voice. It seemed they both weren’t in the best of moods. Was he angry because she had walked
out of the room after they had finished their brownies? Was he that touchy? She shrugged and sat down.

  Still in possession of a libido, even though it had lain dormant for almost two years, she gave him an appreciative once-over. A blue T-shirt stretched over broad shoulders and every time he moved, chest and arm muscles flexed. Tight jeans and black running shoes covered his bottom half. Did he have any idea what an awesome butt he had?

  He turned with her cup of tea in his hand and caught her ogling his ass. Heat crept into her cheeks. His lips thinned and a muscle twitched in his jaw. Jeez, the man had muscles everywhere.

  “Thank you,” she muttered when he set the cup in front of her.

  With typical SEAL efficiency, ten minutes later a plate of eggs, bacon, and toast appeared in front of her. “Aren’t you eating?” she asked.

  “I had my breakfast while it was still breakfast time.”

  “What’s your problem, Logan?”

  A cell phone rang from the vicinity of his marvelous butt. He pulled it out of his back pocket and looked at it. “I have to take this.” He walked to the back door. Just before it closed behind him, she heard him say, “Hey, Maria.”

  Dani imagined a brown-skinned woman with lush curves and smoldering black eyes on the other end of the phone. Her long hair would shimmer blue-black in the sunlight. He’d greeted the caller with warmth in his voice, much different than the tone he had taken with her that morning. She pushed her half-eaten breakfast away.

  As she washed the dishes, she watched Logan out the kitchen window. He sat on the deck railing with the phone to his ear, laughing at something the sensuous Maria said. Dani frowned. Of course, he had a life and the women he included in it were of no concern to her. Slapping the dish towel onto the counter, she turned away and left the kitchen.

  CHAPTER FIVE