Falling for Leigh. Jennifer Snow

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      He remained silent behind her.

      “What now? Time’s wasting.”

      “I know, I just noticed how small your hands are. No wonder you type so slow. Can you even reach all the keys?”

      Leigh glanced at him, eyebrow raised yet again. “Are we typing or not?”

      “Sorry. Okay, so the first line of dialogue is, ‘Don’t go down there.’”

      “Wait,” she interrupted.

      “What?”

      “Who’s saying this?”

      “The detective.”

      She frowned and pursed her lips.

      “What?”

      She hesitated, then shook her head. This was his book. “Nothing,” she said, typing in the dialogue.

      Logan held a hand out to stop her. “No, really, what?” He frowned, studying the words on the page.

      Leigh sighed. “Okay, it’s just that it doesn’t make sense.”

      “What doesn’t make sense?”

      “That the detective would say, ‘Don’t go down there.’ It’s kind of like telling a child, ‘Don’t look in the cupboard for a cookie.’ Of course they’re going to do it now, even if they hadn’t planned to.”

      “Exactly,” Logan said with a nod.

      “You want the bad guy to go downstairs? But in the next scene, that doesn’t work in the detective’s favor.”

      “Not in that scene, but eventually it will.” Logan reached for his notes and flipped ahead. “See, here.” He pointed to a scribbled paragraph, written diagonally across a length of cash register receipt.

      “Is this from the grocery store?” Leigh picked it up and turned it over.

      “Yes.” Logan took it from her and turned it back, scribbled side up. “See here, when the detective sneaks out of the basement through the door leading to the root cellar...”

      “Where did the root cellar come from?” Leigh frowned.

      “Chapter one—you didn’t read it.”

      “Oh. Okay.”

      “Can we continue now? Me doing the writing—you typing?” Logan asked with amusement.

      “Sure.”

      His cell rang in his pocket and he stood, checking the caller ID. His expression darkened.

      “If you have to answer that, go ahead. I think I can make out the rest...if I squint really hard.” But the light moment between them had disappeared.

      “I’m sorry, it’s important,” he said as it rang again. Moving away, he answered the call.

      Leigh watched his long, anxious strides as he paced the backyard. In the silence of the neighborhood, it was impossible not to hear his side of the conversation, despite the distance he put between them.

      She felt a pang of guilt listening, but she couldn’t help it. She was curious about him. Really curious. Since their first night working together, she’d tried to resist the urge to look him up on the computer, but that afternoon she’d caved. Not that she’d learned anything about his personal life.

      “Yes, of course I have time to speak to her.... Hi, sweetheart, you’re up late,” he said, glancing at his watch.

      Sweetheart?

      “How was school today?” she heard him ask.

      It sounded as though he was talking to a child. His?

      “Give them time, they’ll come around. You’re the coolest kid I know.”

      The concern in his voice touched her.

      “That’s great. I can’t wait to see it.... I know, I miss you, too...just another couple of weeks....”

      Couple of weeks for what? Man, she had to stop eavesdropping. His call was none of her business.

      “Okay, be good for your mom.... I love you.” He disconnected the call and Leigh watched as he stood there for a second longer. He turned back toward her and their eyes met momentarily, before she quickly returned hers to the laptop screen.

      Logan climbed the few steps to the gazebo and sat back on the bench. “Sorry about that.”

      “No problem.” Don’t ask questions. It was none of her business.

      “Where did we leave off?”

      “The detective is going downstairs,” Leigh said. Clearly, he wasn’t about to explain the call.

      “Right.” Logan cleared his throat, then stood again. “That was my daughter.”

      She fought to conceal her surprise. Never would she have pegged him for a father. How old was the girl? Did that mean he was married? Divorced? Where was she? Despite the insane curiosity mounting within her, she struggled to respect his privacy. “Really, Logan, that’s your business.”

      Quietly, he rejoined her on the bench. “Okay, sorry, tell me again—where were we?”

      “The detective’s going downstairs....” Leigh prodded, studying him. The little piece of himself he’d displayed in those few seconds had revealed a different side of the man she was getting to know.

      A man she wanted to get to know even better.

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