Just when he thought he’d seen enough, Logan caught sight of a familiar dusty red pickup and his heart dropped. Since when had his grandpa started working at a cement factory? He’d been one of the most sought-after mechanics in Starlight for decades. Was this really the second job he mentioned?
He had to look away before he completely lost it. “Let’s go.”
Chapter 7
Abbie
“Ugh! Gibbs, maybe you should take a stab at this. Can’t make it any worse.” Abbie’d wasted an entire afternoon typing up everything she knew about Logan, but no matter what angle she used to approach the story, it sounded like garbage. Her article was a disaster. She was pretty certain Izzy could write a more compelling article.
Gibbs looked up from his comfy dog bed, all four limbs spilled out. He let out a soft doggy moan. She knew he’d outgrow the extra-large dog bed, but she hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. At this rate, she’d need to buy him a twin mattress.
“You’re sure a lot of help.”
She went back to typing what was her third draft of the day, trying to ignore the ticking clock. The hands warned she didn’t have much time before Erin had dinner ready. She had no choice but to show up, or she’d probably not only get passed up for advancement, but fired as well.
She’d hoped to find a way to spend as little time with Logan as possible. But her grand idea to flesh out ninety percent of an article and sprinkle in new details about his recent life had blown up in her face. It was unreal how little was known online about the man. There were certainly more gaps about his previous life than she realized.
“You’d think someone would’ve figured out where he lives,” she muttered.
Though Logan didn’t deny he was dating anyone when she dropped that comment at lunch, and she hadn’t been able to find a girlfriend captured by the paparazzi, it unsettled her anyway. It was possible some flashy girlfriend might show up at the end of the week to cheer him on at the rodeo. The thought caused her to ball her fists at her sides.
Gibbs perked up his head, and a few seconds later, someone knocked. Gibbs beat her to the door, blocking her way and attacking her with his swishing tail. “You have to let me answer it, buddy.” She nudged the dog-slash-bear cub with a strong shove of her hip, and opened the door a crack.
“Ready for dinner?”
Logan Attwood stood on her doorstep, his intoxicating, woodsy cologne drifting in through the narrow opening. He’d always looked like a million bucks in that cowboy hat, dang it. She wasn’t ready for the jolt her body felt.
“I have five more minutes.” It was a weak defense, but she needed each of those minutes to catch her breath. It had escaped out the door, probably now lingering somewhere around those smoldering eyes. “I’ll meet you inside.”
“I can wait.”
“Um, okay.” She pulled Gibbs back by the collar, removing his pushy nose from the gap and closing the door. If Logan wanted to wait, he could wait outside. Gibbs rushed to the window, hoping to spot his new friend. She leaned against the door and let out a giant breath.
She startled at another knock.
“Abbie?”
“What?”
“Can I come in? It’s hot out here.”
She twisted a lock of hair in her twitchy fingers. “Cliff has A/C.”
“You can ask me one question.”
Bribery. She stared at her laptop mocking her on her coffee table. How many words had she written and deleted today? One good question could fuel a half-decent rewrite tonight. “Any question?”
“Sure. Just let me in, please. I need some water.”
She opened the door before she could talk herself out of it. Gibbs charged, tail knocking the TV remote from the arm of the couch in his mad dash to greet Logan. She didn’t try to stop him. If Logan wanted in, Gibbs was part of the deal.
“Hey there, buddy,” he said to the dog once the door closed behind him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked suspiciously like a bone-shaped treat. “Can you sit?” Gibbs plopped his bottom down, eager eyes waiting for him to toss the treat.
“Steal that from my mom?”
Logan lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “Is that the one question you want to go with?”
“No,” she fired back immediately. “Glasses are in the cupboard to the right of the sink. Help yourself.” She skittered back to the couch and pretended to finish something up on her laptop. But she kept stealing glances at Logan in her kitchen. There’d been a time in their lives when such a sight was common.
