Chapter 2
When the garage door opened, the Camaro purred inside and came to a stop.
A few moments later, the girls were escorted inside the house, past a laundry room, and into the spacious kitchen area, which was separated from the living area by a bar.
Once inside, Logan flipped the lights on and scowled at Holly. “Care to explain yourself, young lady?”
“I already told you Denise invited me and Rachel to trick-or-treat over in her neighborhood. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t have gone, but I didn’t realize how bad that area has gotten, and I didn’t want to let her down,” she fumed.
Darcy could remember those teen years—back when high school life was like threading through a war zone every day. You never knew when a bomb might go off that would ruin your life. Pimples, not getting a date to the homecoming dance—the possibilities were endless, and reputation was everything.
Logan folded his arms and stared, his gaze softening. “All I have to say is you’re lucky I found Darcy first, young lady. That’s too dangerous a place to be hanging out after dark, especially if you don’t live there. Even on Halloween,” he added.
“Yeah—lucky me,” Darcy drawled.
Holly shrugged. “I’m sixteen, and I can take care of myself.”
Logan’s eyebrows rose. “Not in that neighborhood. It’s declined a lot in the last five years.”
“I noticed that,” Holly replied dryly. “But I said I’d go—so I did. Denise’s dad was supposed to have picked her up over an hour ago at the diner, but he wasn’t there. We were walking towards Rachel’s house when we saw you guys.” She shivered slightly.
Logan studied her silently, and Darcy almost felt sorry for him. “All right,” he spoke at last. “I’ll let your dad deal with you. Prepare to be grounded until the next millennium if I know my brother.”
Darcy's stomach chose that moment to growl like a thunderstorm intent on significant damage.
“Sounds like you missed dinner,” he said with a grin as Holly rolled her eyes and huffed off down the hallway. “I have some leftover spaghetti if you’re interested.”
“I might be,” Darcy admitted grudgingly.
Spaghetti sounded heavenly at the moment.
She looked around at the modern kitchen, done in cool blues that blended seamlessly into the living room décor, featuring a plush navy sofa and matching recliners.
It was a beautiful home with an island in the kitchen and a family dining table in front of sliding glass windows hung with long, flat blinds.
The cabinetry had been remodeled in a French style, and the flooring consisted of blueish-gray tiles.
Logan handed her his phone. “You can sit at the bar and make your call,” he told her, “I have water or sweet tea if you’d like a drink.”
“Tea, please,” Darcy replied, taking the phone. She watched him furtively as he moved about the kitchen with quick, efficient movements. Briefly, she wondered how it would feel to have him caring for her all the time. Nah. Men wanted to be taken care of, not the other way around.
She shoved those useless thoughts aside and punched in the number for her current boyfriend.
There was no point in calling her roommate—Pamela was undoubtedly hooked up with whichever boyfriend had spent the most money on her lately.
She couldn’t keep up with her romantic exploits and didn’t bother to try.
But Pamela did help with the rent. Darcy spent most nights with Doug at his place, but wasn’t about to give up her apartment, no matter how much Doug whined. Call her paranoid, but she wasn’t ready to commit to giving up her independence—it was her escape hatch.
Especially lately.
Impatient, she drummed her fingers on the table as she waited for him to pick up. Finally, after the 5th ring, he answered.
“Hello?”
“Doug...hi...it’s me, Darcy.”
“Where the devil are you, Darcy? I’m falling asleep here waiting for you to get home. Do you realize how late it is?” His voice was querulous and complaining. Nothing new there.
She rolled her eyes even though he couldn’t see her. “I know, I got tied up over here in the Birmingdale area on a case, and my car’s been stripped. They stole my purse, too. Can you come and get me?”
“It’s almost midnight, and Birmingdale is two hours away. You know I hate driving at night, and I’m extra tired tonight. Can’t you get a hotel room or something?”
“And how am I supposed to pay for that?”
“Just get the room, and I can bring you some money in the morning,” he growled impatiently.
“And with no car, how do I get to a hotel? My car’s stripped, remember?”
“If it weren’t for that sleazy job you refuse to give up, you wouldn’t be in this predicament,” he shot back.
The exasperation in Doug’s voice fired her temper. No, “Are you ok, babe?” No, “What happened to your car?” Nothing. Just that same put-out tone as if she’d caught him in the middle of something important—like watching Netflix.
Lately, it felt like every time she asked him for anything, it was always inconvenient.
However, it was a federal crisis when he needed something, and she was supposed to drop everything and come running.
The disenchantment with him that had begun months ago finally came to a head.
Her ‘I’ve had enough meter’ just hit the red zone.
“You know what? Never mind,” she snapped. “Just forget it, Doug, don’t put yourself out for my sake. I’ll find my own way home tonight and every other night. We’re through.” She viciously jabbed the off button to hang up the phone.
She was so done with Doug. Test it with a fork, done.
Still, she stared at the phone. Just in case he called back.
He didn’t.
Loser.
She rubbed her forehead with tired fingers.
Maybe Pamela would accidentally be home.
She dialed her apartment number. After the tenth ring, she hung up and dialed her roommate’s cellphone—no answer.
She’d already expected that. Pamela rarely answered her cell phone on dates; she preferred not to be interrupted.
Should she try her mom? She lived three hours away, though, and didn’t see well at night—probably not a good idea. Her best friend, Amy, lived in another state—no help there.
Darcy didn’t have many people she could turn to. Getting close to someone meant letting your guard down, and that wasn’t an option.
Not anymore.
She started when she felt two warm hands on her shoulders, their gentleness surprising her.
“Why don’t you stay here tonight, Darcy. I can take you home in the morning after you get some rest. It’s getting late to be calling anyone anyway.”
The kindness in his tone brought a prickle of tears to Darcy’s eyelids, and she gulped to swallow the lump that was trying to form in her throat.
She would not embarrass herself again in front of this man.
Shrugging a slender shoulder, she replied, “No, I can’t do that, but thanks for asking.
” Her shoulders tingled where his hands touched her.
She looked up into his warm, dark eyes full of concern and found herself wanting to stay despite what was coming out of her mouth.
It would be nice to be taken care of and protected for once.
“There’s nothing improper about you staying here,” he assured her. “Holly is here, and there’s a spare bedroom, fully furnished. You can borrow some of Holly’s clothes and make fresh plans in the morning.”
He smiled down at her, and Darcy found herself melting.
That smile should definitely be registered as a weapon.
What was happening to her? She didn’t even know Logan, and yet she instinctively knew that had she called him for help, he would have come as fast as he could to get her. Disconcerted, she tried to get out from under those hands and away from the spell he was weaving around her. “I don’t think...”
“I insist. After all, it’s the least I can do to make up for spanking the wrong witch,” he teased. Those teasing dark eyes should be registered as weapons, too.
Darcy tried to drag her gaze away from his, but her eyes refused to cooperate.
“Alright,” she whispered, her mouth dry.
She held her breath as his head dipped lower.
Her lips parted in anticipation. She was surprised when they merely brushed across her forehead in a chaste kiss, and she hated that she was disappointed. The microwave dinged.
“Your spaghetti is ready,” he murmured.
Was it her imagination, or were his hands trembling slightly as he turned and strode across the kitchen? Then he came back and set the plate of food in front of her. His fingers seemed to linger on the glass of tea as she took it from him.
When he turned away to put the empty spaghetti container in the dishwasher, she tucked into the food like she hadn’t eaten for days.
There might be some truth to that. She didn’t have time to cook much, and Pamela didn’t cook at all.
And of course, neither did her ex. Doug was great at ordering take-out, but didn’t know how to turn the stove on.
If it weren’t for his mother, he’d starve waiting for her to cook meals.
Her schedule didn’t put her at home much around dinnertime, and she skipped more meals than she ate.
Which was only one more log on the fire of his discontent with her job. Doug wanted her at home in the evenings to attend to his needs.
In reflection, she realized it would never have worked out. Shoving the last forkful of spaghetti in her mouth, she realized Logan had come back and was watching her. “Uh...that was great.” She’d practically inhaled it.
“Would you like me to fix you a sandwich?” he inquired politely, a grin teasing the corners of his chiseled mouth. He picked up the plate and headed for the dishwasher with it.
“No, that was plenty,” Darcy quickly replied, “thank you.” She was halfway through with her glass of tea by the time he turned around, her belly finally thanking her with a satisfied gurgle.
He looked amused. “Are you sure? It sounds like you’re still hungry.”