We pull into my driveway just as the sun paints the sky in shades of orange and pink. Before I can even turn off the engine, there’s movement in Logan's window. Moments later, the door opens and Violet rushes out, sporting a purple tutu over her jeans and even from this distance the glitter in her hair is obvious.
“Aunt Heather! Cookie!” Violet's face is glowing as she jumps up and down, waving wildly.
Cookie loses her mind, letting out an ear-splitting shriek unlike anything I've heard from her and spinning wildly in the passenger seat. Her stubby tail wags so hard her entire backend shakes.
Logan appears behind Violet and gives me a wave, a relaxed smile on his handsome face. He's changed out of his work clothes into jeans and a fitted t-shirt that does absolutely sinful things for his shoulders.
Just as I open my door, Cookie leaps over me and rockets toward Violet, who drops to her knees to receive the enthusiastic greeting. Violet giggles and shrieks as Cookie licks her face, and for a moment they're just a heap of blonde hair, tan fur, and pure joy.
“Someone had a craft day at school,” I observe, as I walk closer.
"Uncle Logan says I'm not allowed to use glitter at home,” Violet announces solemnly. “It got everywhere at school today.”
“I'm finding sparkles in places sparkles should never be, and she didn’t even use it here,” Logan confirms with a sexy smirk. His eyes meet mine over Violet's head and the smoldering look he gives me makes my pulse race.
“Ready for dinner?” Logan asks, moving closer. His hand finds the small of my back, a touch that feels both casual and possessive.
“Yeah,” I say softly, leaning into him. “I'm ready.”
His smile could power the entire town. “Good. Because I might not let you go home tonight.”
“Promise?” A thrill shoots through me at the thought of spending the night with Logan.
“Promise,” he says firmly. Then, right there in broad daylight where Mrs. Henderson and every other nosy neighbor can see, his lips claim mine. And I melt into him, kissing him back without hesitation.
Let the whole town talk. Let Mrs. Henderson take a thousand photos. I don’t care.
Chapter 10
Logan
The Pelican Point Artisan Market is in full swing by ten AM, and the turnout is even better than we'd hoped. The fairgrounds are packed with families, and the air is filled with the scent of kettle corn, grilled food, and autumn spices. Booths stretch in neat rows across the field, everything from handmade jewelry to local honey to carved wooden furniture is available.
Our setup is right in the heart of it all with two adjacent booths that Heather brilliantly suggested we combine into one large space. On the left side, the library's display features book donation bins, information about library programs, and a cozy reading corner with beanbags and picture books. On the right, The Rockets have team merchandise, season ticket information, and a massive banner advertising our upcoming youth baseball camp. Melody and Henry are coordinating the booth so well that I’m only needed for the occasional fan pictures.
But the real genius is how Heather tied it all together. Baseball-themed bookmarks featuring our players. ‘Read Like a Champion’ posters. A photo op area where kids can pose with both a giant baseball glove and a stack of oversized books. It's seamless, professional, and is drawing a steady crowd.
“Uncle Logan, look!” Violet tugs on my shirt, pointing to where she and Cookie are stationed at what Heather dubbed the ‘Reading Buddies’ table.
I have to bite back a laugh. Violet is wearing a brown tweed jacket that's three sizes too big, rolled up at the sleeves, with a magnifying glass hanging from a cord around her neck. She looks like a tiny detective. And Cookie—god, Cookie is wearing a pair of reading glasses perched on her snout, held in place by an elastic band and a little doll-sized tweed hat. The corgi looks deeply offended by this indignity, but she's tolerating it for Violet's sake.
“You two look very official,” I tell them.
“Aunt Heather says we're Book Detectives,” Violet explains seriously. “We help kids find the perfect book. Right, Cookie?”
Cookie chuffs dramatically but stays put as a little boy approaches, clutching his mother's hand.
“Can I pet the puppy?” he asks shyly.
“Only if Cookie approves,” Violet says with the authority of someone much older than four. She holds up a book. “Do you like dinosaurs?”
The boy nods eagerly.
“Cookie, what do you think?” Violet presents the book to the corgi like she's offering evidence in court.
Cookie sniffs the book, then licks the cover.
“She approves!” Violet announces, handing the book to the delighted child. “You can pet her now.”
