A Match Made in Montana. Joanna Sims

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СКАЧАТЬ Logan switched off his music and pulled the earbuds out of his ears.

      “Taking a break?” he asked hopefully.

      Josephine nodded, yawned, and carefully wound the cord of her computer neatly and secured it properly with the provided Velcro.

      “I’m trying to get ready for my last year, but I’m afraid that my brain has hit its saturation level.” Josephine slipped the computer into its designated spot and then zipped the bag shut.

      Logan stood up and stretched. “I was thinking about raiding the liquor cabinet. Care to join me?”

      “You know what? I think I would.” Josephine’s first thought was “no,” but her verbal answer switched to a “yes.” “You’ll find the liquor right across from the closet.”

      “Jackpot!” Logan opened the cabinet with a smile. “What’s your poison?”

      “You don’t happen to see any gin in there, do you?”

      Logan pulled out a black bottle and held it up for her to see. “Hendricks okay?”

      Josephine gave a slight nod, a small smile. “Have you ever made a martini?”

      “Before I was a cop? Bartender...” Logan found two martini glasses, vermouth, and olives.

      “Um, I usually like just a hint of vermouth and two olives.” Josephine leaned forward a bit. “Please.”

      “Why don’t you let me make you a martini my way? I don’t want to brag, but I was pretty well-known for my martini.”

      Josephine wasn’t really adventurous with her food or her drinks. She knew what she liked, she liked what she liked, and she stuck to what she liked. If she didn’t like Logan’s martini, she wouldn’t be able to grin and bear it quietly.

      “Okay, give this a try. I hope you don’t mind your martinis dirty.” Logan carefully handed her the martini glass and then sat down across from her.

      “To Ian and Jordan.” Logan held his glass out to her.

      “Jordan and Ian.” Josephine touched her glass to his with a tired smile.

      Josephine knew Logan was watching her as she took a small sip of the martini. She never drank her martinis dirty and she typically preferred the taste of Tanqueray. Logan’s martini was different, the tangy taste unusual, but it was surprisingly...

      “Mmm.” Josephine’s eyes widened with pleasure. “This is really good...”

      “I have a 100 percent satisfaction-guaranteed record with my martini...” Logan slid the two olives off the toothpick into his mouth.

      “But, you don’t want to brag,” Josephine teased him before she took a slightly bigger sip. “I have to be honest. I wasn’t expecting to like it. Normally, I only like the way my boyfriend makes a martini.”

      Logan stopped chewing the olives for a second when he heard the word “boyfriend.” Up until now, Josephine hadn’t mentioned a significant other, so Logan was starting to believe that he might have a shot of taking her out on a date while they were in Montana together. From the moment he looked into Josephine’s eyes, he’d wanted to ask her out. He was really attracted to Jordan’s beautiful sister, more so than he had been to any woman for a really long time, and it was just his rotten luck that she was taken. Of course, she was taken...why wouldn’t she be?

      Disappointed, Logan raised his glass up in the air a little. “I respect any man who can make a decent martini.”

      Josephine laughed. “I think Brice was probably weaned on martinis.”

      “Is that right?” he asked out of politeness, but he really didn’t want to hear about the guy who was currently seeing the woman he wanted to date.

      “I’m going to have another.” Logan finished his drink, stood up. “Are you still good with that one?”

      Josephine nodded and showed him that she still had some left in her glass. She wasn’t much of a drinker and the last thing she wanted to do was arrive home for the first time in years tipsy.

      “Come to think of it,” she added, half thinking aloud, “I never drank martinis until I met Brice. We met in college and then we ended up deciding to go to law school together. He’s a couple of years ahead of me, so he’s already graduated, passed the California Bar, and taken a job with a firm in Van Nuys.” She paused to take another small sip of her drink. “He practices environmental law, which is why he can’t come join me in Montana until right before the wedding... He was just given a really big case.”

      Wanting to bring the conversation back to his point of interest, which was her, he asked, “What kind of law do you want to practice?”

      “Oh!” Josephine’s face lit up. “Well, my dream ever since I was in high school has been to work for the Southern Poverty Law Center. Have you ever heard of them?”

      Logan shook his head “no.”

      “They’ve been fighting for the civil rights of marginalized and poor communities for years. And I know I would love to do that work.”

      “But?” He heard a definite but at the end of her sentence.

      Josephine sighed and shrugged, thought for a second or two before she answered him. “But I don’t think that it’s practical to think that I’ll work for them one day.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because, for one thing, they need experienced litigators for the types of cases that they handle, so I’d have to get that experience first.”

      “That shouldn’t be a problem for someone like you, and we have plenty of people in our state who need defending.” He smiled at her. “I arrest ’em, you defend ’em.”

      That made her laugh, before she said, “But they really only operate out of the South, so...”

      “That’s what moving vans are for.”

      Josephine finished off her drink, and placed the empty glass carefully on the table. “Brice will never move down South. He grew up in California. He’s never wanted to live anywhere else.”

      Logan wanted to ask her the question: Not even for you? But he drank from his glass instead.

      “And...” Josephine felt bad for making Brice seem like her dream-killer. “I can certainly practice civil rights law in California...immigration law.”

      Josephine looked out the window at the clouds for a minute and then nodded as if she had just convinced herself.

      “Why don’t you talk for a while?” She smiled at Logan. “I’ve been just babbling away over here.”

      “Well, I think you know by now that I’m a cop,” Logan said with a deadpan expression.

      “Yes.” She frowned playfully at him. “That much I do know.”

      “Hey.” Logan leaned his forearms on the table between СКАЧАТЬ