The Family Man. Melinda Curtis

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СКАЧАТЬ before, but now he’s got the shortest fuse known to man.”

      Cognizant of Tess eavesdropping in the hallway, Thea lowered her voice. “He’ll be fine with the girls, won’t he?”

      Lexie looked Thea directly in the eyes. “He’d do anything for those girls.”

      There was an odd sound in the hallway, followed by retreating footsteps.

      “I’m so glad you’re here, Thea. I know Logan’s going to need help with Hannah and Tess.”

      “Whoa. Wait.” Thea shook her head. “I’m not staying. I’m getting my Ph.D. I brought the girls here because Wes is AWOL and they had nowhere else to turn.”

      “They’ll still have nowhere to turn. Fire season is starting. You can’t just leave them.” Lexie’s expression dimmed.

      Thea thought about the untouched pile of textbooks and notes in the kitchen, about the physical condition and mental state of Glen, about the bare interior of the house, and two little girls with broken hearts. In her mind’s eye, she saw her mother leaving for good, but not before she wrenched a promise from Thea to reach for the stars and refuse to settle.

      “Well,” Lexie said finally. “Things have a way of working out, don’t they?”

      THE RED CAUGHT HIS EYE first as Logan rounded the bend toward his driveway.

      Red giving way to a slender pair of legs.

      Then the other colors hit him. Yellow, blue, orange. The spectrum of the rainbow glinted against the light dusting of snow on the ground and the yellow Volkswagen in his driveway.

      By the time Logan got out of the truck, it had registered that a woman did indeed belong to the car. A woman with killer legs and a dog.

      Said dog was little and white with brown spots and short fur. At the moment, he was lifting his leg over the shrubs edging Logan’s porch.

      “Good morning. Are you Logan McCall?” The woman’s voice was melodious, as colorful as the red denim skirt she wore topped with a bright orange T-shirt. Totally inappropriate attire for early spring in the mountains.

      Not that he didn’t appreciate the view. He just didn’t appreciate the invasion of his privacy.

      Logan pushed his sunglasses higher up on his nose and emitted a gruff reply. “Yeah, I’m McCall.” Thoughts of coming home to silence, a hot shower and twelve hours of sleep faded. Why was this woman here?

      “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it? Not a cloud in the sky.” She laughed a little self-consciously and shifted her feet.

      Logan stared at the woman’s bright red sneakers. She’d laced her shoes with little silver bells so that her feet tinkled every time she moved.

      He made the mistake of looking her in the face for the first time. She had warm brown eyes that crinkled when she smiled. Somehow, he’d known she’d have the kind of expression that made you want to smile back. No one could drive a Volkswagen like that and not be cheerful.

      Something was wrong. He could feel it. Women like this didn’t show up on his doorstep unless… “Where’s Aunt Glen?”

      “She’s inside with the girls.” The woman had a way of standing still that made it seem as if she were moving. Maybe she did move. A thin layer of snow crunched softly beneath those red shoes. There was something about her that was…intriguing.

      As if he’d heard a car coming, Logan looked down the driveway, taking his time before asking, “What girls?” Part of him wanted to believe she had a carload of women in his house, but he suspected that wasn’t the case.

      The dog trotted over to sniff Logan’s mud-caked Black Diamond fire boots.

      “Whizzer, no,” she warned the dog.

      Logan bent down and petted the friendly dog. Ignoring the woman’s bare, slender ankles that led up to shapely, fine legs, he craned his neck around until he could see the Volkswagen’s license plate. Washington. Last time he’d seen Wes, his truck had sported Washington plates. His hand stilled as the dog danced away.

      “That explains a lot of things,” he observed as the anger pooled in his belly, welcome in its ability to obliterate all other feeling. His nieces were inside, which meant that Wes was close by. “Where’s Wes?”

      “I don’t know.” The joy seemed to have gone out of her tone. Even the bells on her feet were silent. “I haven’t heard from him in over a month.”

      Logan snorted in disbelief. From where he knelt on the ground, he could look up and see her over the top of his sunglasses. She didn’t seem so bright and sunny now. In fact, her eyes darted around as if she was starting to panic. Maybe she was going to cry.

      The last thing he wanted to witness was a female display of emotion—from Wes’s girlfriend, no less. When Deb died, he’d locked his own emotions away so their intensity wouldn’t break him.

      But instead of bursting into tears, the woman cried out and sprang forward. “Whizzer, no!”

      At the sound of spray hitting something behind him, Logan leaped up and away, with only a brief twinge in his leg. His reflexes were sharp after having dodged many an angry bee fighting fires in the mountains. Bees didn’t like fire and they wanted desperately to take their anger out on someone. Snakes, at least, seemed to have the sense to dart out of the way when they heard twenty firefighters moving toward them.

      “Whizzer, no,” she reprimanded the prancing dog before turning those deep brown eyes his way. “I’m so sorry. He didn’t get you, did he?”

      Logan just stared at the woman, unwilling to embarrass himself by looking for wet spots on his backside. If the little rodent had pissed on him, he couldn’t feel it yet through his grubby pants and boots.

      Rather than back off from his stare, the woman closed the gap between them with a soft ripple of bells, grasped him firmly by the shoulders, turned him around and checked him out.

      At least, Logan assumed she was checking out his ass. That’s what most women did. And most of the time, he didn’t mind. Not a bit.

      But that was before Deb became sick and died. Before Logan became the legal guardian of his nieces. Before Deb’s lowlife, trucking husband had disappeared with the twins because Logan wouldn’t stop him. Before Logan had sunk into despair because he’d let the most important people in his life down.

      The woman turned him one way and another, her touch commanding yet distinctly tender. “He didn’t get you.” Her hands fell away as she stepped back.

      Logan blew out the breath he’d been holding. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of an attractive woman’s touch since…last summer. He suppressed a groan. He didn’t even want to think about it.

      Logan was selective. Ample assets, that’s what he liked. Lots of blond hair—didn’t even matter if it was natural blond—and full, red, pouty lips that whispered with the promise of a night or two of fun. But this woman…

      She was thin, small breasted, with chestnut hair that tumbled past her shoulder blades and dimples that only made those crinkly smiling СКАЧАТЬ