LOGAN

That kiss should have never happened, but it did, and I can’t take it back. Days have passed and it’s been running through my mind on repeat. Kayla hasn’t returned my text messages, and the last time I saw her was when she dropped Herman back at my house. Needless to say, the conversation was short and the guilt of it all is weighing heavily on my shoulders. After a few moments of me staring at my computer screen, Brantley walks in my office pulling me away from my thoughts.

“Ready to go? Elk Grove is calling.”

I can already tell he’s in a bad mood and I know this case is bothering him, but we both have an oath to uphold, regardless if our supervisor’s daughter is involved or not. We walk down the hallway like we’re about to wreak havoc on the drug lords of Sacramento, and, in a way, we are.

“How’s the case going?” Supervisor Royal asks walking down the hall sipping a steaming cup of coffee. Brantley stands there, waiting for me to answer.

“I think it’s going good. We’ve gotten some more anonymous tips on the case and am working with the night shift to help prove drugs are involved. We suspect they are, but haven’t had any hard evidence yet. Hoping to get that today.”

“Good work. Keep me updated.” Supervisor Royal obliviously walks into his office and I turn and look at Brantley who’s sweating.

“Chill the fuck out,” I whisper to him and he lets out a deep breath. Once we’re in the unmarked car, driving to the suburbs, Brantley slightly relaxes.

“I’ve called in a few police officers to patrol the area. Once we get solid identification of vehicles that are doing deals, we’ll call it in.” Brantley parks around the corner, and we wait for thirty minutes before any activity is in the neighborhood. Once school dismisses and the teenage boy arrives home, it seems a new vehicle pulls up every few minutes. He walks to their car, there’s a quick exchange which neither of us can see and the cars drive away.

“I feel like they got a new supply in,” I say. Writing down license plates and descriptions to make sure to watch for those same vehicles next time.

“That kid looks like he’s tweaked out today. Look how he’s scratching his arms.” Brantley’s mouth falls open. “There she is.”

I hurry and pick up the binoculars and see the Royal kid get out of a Cadillac with a duffle bag swung over her shoulder. She walks in like she owns the place, spends thirty minutes inside, and walks out with disheveled hair. The bag is almost too heavy for her to carry.

“What do you think is in there?” Brantley asks.

Without hesitation, I pick up the radio and describe the vehicle to dispatch. I give the location and the license plate number and dispatch repeats it back. I request that they pull the vehicle over in a different location, so then it’s not so suspicious. We don’t want our cover blown.

“Follow them.”

Brantley doesn’t wait a second and stays far enough away from the vehicle that it’s not noticeable they’re being followed. Soon a K-9 police car pulls from a random neighborhood and tailgates them. I know the plates had already been run because I heard it over the feed, but it’s important for me to know what’s in that bag. I’m willing to bet it’s money or drugs. Regardless a seventeen-year-old has no business having either or being involved in this. I’m sure she thinks she’s invincible, considering who her father is.

Before the Cadillac can pull up onto the freeway, the police car flicks its lights on. We make the block and park in a grocery store parking lot. Two older white guys get out of the vehicle along with Penelope. She’s as calm as can be as she hands over her license and says something. I’m sure she name-dropped her father. The officer looks at her and recognition flashes across his face, and he knows exactly who she is.

“Do what you’re supposed to do,” I say between gritted teeth as I watch the whole thing go down through binoculars. The officer doesn’t get the dog to sniff out the vehicle and lets them all go without a search.

“What the fuck!” Brantley says.

I set the binoculars down in my lap and sit there a bit stunned. “I somewhat figured that would happen. Do you know what officer that was?”

“I think it was Officer Riley. He’s a dick.”

I shake my head. “I want to know what was in the bag. If she’s selling to other high school students, we’re going to have a huge problem.”

“Do you know if her and that kid are enrolled in private school?”

I try to remember bits and pieces of conversations I’ve had with Royal. “I’m pretty sure his kids go to public school, because one plays on the school softball team.”

“My daughter is a freshman; do you want me to see if she knows anything?”

I contemplate this. “No, it’s best not to get her or anyone else involved because I have a feeling this is bigger than either of us realize.”

After chatting, we get a cup of coffee and return to the neighborhood. All is quiet, until a moving truck backs into the driveway. Two people load twenty to thirty boxes into the garage until it’s practically full while the kid watches. When it’s over, he slips the driver something in the palm of his hand and they’re off. The kid laughs like a maniac looking at all the boxes. His father comes out the front door, paranoia written all over his face and they step inside the garage and close the door.

“What the hell? This just keeps getting stranger and stranger,” Brantley says. “What do you think is in there?”

“Wouldn’t surprise me if we just watched a massive drug delivery go down. It’s the perfect cover-up. Moving truck. Stuff the drugs in moving boxes. Doesn’t look too suspicious to the average neighbor, but we know better.”

Right on time, the mother pulls up in her car and the neighborhood stays quiet for the next hour.

“So, we’ve learned they do business between the hours of four and six. Once the woman shows up, all of it ends.” I make a note in the case files.

“That makes for quick business every day.” Brantley starts the car and we head back to the office.

“We need to see what their activity is like on the weekends. I have a feeling even more shady shit is going down during that time.”

“You’ll be in town this weekend?”

I nod. “Plan on it.”

“Let’s meet at eight in the morning so we can see what they’re really doing.”

I agree that it’s a good idea.

As soon as we’re back at the station I walk into my office and Brantley follows behind me giving different scenarios. Our conversation is interrupted when Officer Riley walks in and slams the door closed. I turn around and am met eye to eye with him.

“What the fuck?” he asks.

I take a step back, creating space between us. “What is your issue, Officer?”

“Having me pull over Supervisor Royal’s daughter. I’m not stupid.”

Brantley takes a step closer and I stare at Officer Riley for a moment as agitation flows over him. I’ve never spoken to him before, and it’s a pity our first exchange has to be like this, but if he would have done his fucking job, we wouldn’t be in this position and I would know what the hell was in her bag.

“We had you pull over a suspicious vehicle. It’s as simple as that. My questions to you is why didn’t you do what you were supposed to do? Get the K9 out of the car. Do a walk-around? This isn’t rocket science.”

“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Knight, but I’m not getting wrapped up in this bullshit.”

“I think this conversation is over,” Brantley interrupts.

Officer Riley stares me down for a moment then huffs out of my office and slams the door behind him.

Brantley shakes his head. “Told you he was a dick.”

“He has a bad attitude that I don’t care for and ruined a perfect opportunity to find drugs in that vehicle. I’m pissed.” I slam the files on my desk and sit on the corner of it.

“Do you think he’ll go to Supervisor Royal?” Brantley asks.

“Nope. He’s too concerned about repercussion.” I smile. “Maybe he should be your partner on this case instead?”

“Funny. My choices are a dick or an asshole.” 

I crack up laughing. “Sounds like a party.”

After a few more hours we finish our case files for the day and head out. We’re making progress and that is all I could hope for. This case could go on for months before it’s solved unless we can get solid proof there are drugs involved.

Once I’m home, I let Herman out, play with him and his favorite ball in the backyard, then hop in the shower. As the water runs down my body the stress of the day slowly begins to vanish. I stand under the hot water for minutes and while my eyes are closed, the thoughts of that damn kiss fill my mind. Why did I do that? Why did I feel like I had to have her at that moment? It wasn’t fair considering she was on a date, but the way she looked at me across the room, the way she licked her lips when our eyes met, it was too fucking much.

Once I’m out of the shower, I throw together a salad and scroll through my phone. Pictures of Skylar and me at the park prompts me to text Maggie. It’s close to eight and I want to chat with my baby, but she may be in bed already.

Maggie doesn’t say anything else and I hope she will keep her word about delivering my message to Skylar. I let out a deep breath and look around my house and realize Kayla is right. There is nothing personal about it. Without the furniture, it would look like an empty house. I unlock my phone and try to think of the right things to say to Kayla. I type it out and erase it several times until I hit send.

I almost throw in an emoji for good measure since she’s ignored my previous attempts at contact, but I don’t. I wait a few moments and smile when I see her name flash across my screen.

L: I’ll be here.

There’s so much more I want to say, words that don’t come, so I leave it be.

––––––––

KAYLA

To say I’m pissed at Logan Knight is an understatement. The way he kissed me on Friday is what fairy tales are made of, until he left me standing there alone with my thoughts. It turned into a nightmare situation quick.

Afterward Christian drove me home, and I agreed to another date because I genuinely want to give him a fair chance without any distraction. He’s such a gentleman and walked me to the door but didn’t go in for a kiss, which I was grateful for. I think it would have been awkward.

My Friday is busy as hell, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think it was a Monday. I have appointments booked every two hours and while I’m not complaining, I know afterward I’ll need a relaxing night with my dogs and National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation. I’ve seen it hundreds of times. Chevy Chase never gets old.

After my final morning client, I stop and grab a quick lunch and head over to Logan’s. Dread follows me across town and the anxiety of seeing him washes over me as I park in his driveway. I suck in a deep breath then step out of my car, steadying myself in my high heels. The only reason I’m doing this is because I know how important this is and how he desperately needs my help.

Logan opens the door wearing a boyish grin and my heart lurches but I try to keep calm.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Knight. My name is Kayla Sinclair, and I’ll be doing a walk-through of your house today.”

Logan tilts his head at me a smile almost playing on his lips. “Okay, I guess I deserve that.”

I look up into his blue eyes trying to hold my emotions at bay. “Our relationship is strictly professional from this point on.”

I almost wish he would disagree with me, but he doesn’t. He smiles at me, steps aside, and allows me in. Herman runs to me and I bend down and pet and kiss his head. It slightly takes me out of my zone. I stand and turn around and see Logan watching us. He lifts his eyebrows and gives me a small grin. I feel like we’re back in the hallway and he’s pouring himself into me. The urge to talk about what happened rests on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t bring it up. It’s better for me to pretend it didn’t happen though it’s hard for me when I look at him. Stolen moments in a low-lit room is what provoked him Friday. I’ll make sure nothing like that happens again.

I open my iPad and begin snapping pictures of each room.

“Do you have a specific budget in mind?” I stare at the empty room that’s meant for Skylar.

He shakes his head. “Whatever amount it takes.”

“So, ten thousand dollars?” I give him a challenging smirk.

He takes a step closer and my heart rate increases. The smell of him completely encapsulates me and it’s almost too much. I’m frozen in place, completely unable to move as he walks past me.

“A reasonable budget, but I want it to feel like a home to Skylar.”

“I think we can make that happen, Mr. Knight.” I pop an eyebrow and open my notepad application.

“When you call me that...never mind.”

I’m on edge waiting for him to finish, but I clear my throat and change the subject. “So, what’s her favorite color?”

“Purple and Pink, and she’s six and loves anything that has to with princesses or dance.”

When Logan speaks about Skylar, his entire face lights up and I can’t help but smile. His love for her is so obvious.

“What?” he asks.

“Nothing.” My eyes wandered too long but I couldn’t help but notice him, really see him when he talked about his daughter. Happiness radiated from him which is why this project is so important. Though he frustrates me to hell and back, and I may never be allowed to be anything more than his friend, I want him to be happy. 

I go back to my app with the photos and start drawing rough sketches of furniture over the blank space so he can get an idea. Back at the office I’ve got hundreds of swatches of the colors pink and purple.

“Come see,” I tell him. He stands next to me and when his arm brushes against mine, I pretend it didn’t happen, but his touch sets me on fire. Slowly, I exhale, getting a grip.

“Wow. So, the bed here, a desk and chair there, and a small dresser here? I can almost imagine it.” Logan’s smiling.

“And I was thinking a big fuzzy rug here, bright colors, and decorate with princess accents and pink walls. It’s going to be cozy and fun but something she can grow into as well.” I’m talking fast because I’m excited for this project and I can tell Logan is just as thrilled. “I’ll draw up something more official and let you look over it before we start ordering things.”

After we’ve finished the room, I walk down the hallway toward two doors and choose a random one. His bathroom is as stale as the other parts of the house. “Is this room on the list too?” I turn around smiling.

“It’s not that bad, is it? I mean, what does anyone really need in a bathroom other than the necessities?”

“I need for it not to feel or look like you could do surgery in here,” I say looking at the stark white walls, white shower curtain—white everything.

“Fair enough. Add it to the list.”

“Great.” I open the door opposite from the bathroom and it’s his bedroom. Neatly made bed, which doesn’t surprise me, nightstands on both sides, but still very impersonal.

“You can leave that room how it is,” he says over my shoulder.

It smells like his cologne inside and instead of lingering any longer, I close the door and walk down the hall. “Never saw someone so tidy. I don’t think I’ve actually met a person who makes their bed every morning without a maid or housekeeping taking care of it.”

“I blame the military for that.” Logan’s eyes meet mine and though I want to ask questions about his past military life, I know he’s sealed like a vault. I change the subject when we walk into the living room.

“I was thinking we could get a nice, large, area rug to cover the hardwood floors. Refinish your mantel, paint an accent wall, and move your furniture around where it flows nicely into the kitchen when you walk in. I’ve got a few large paintings in my garage that I haven’t used yet that would fit perfect against this wall.”

Logan is listening, nodding his head at everything I’m saying. He might be the easiest client I’ve had. I look down at my iPad and realize I’ve been here for almost an hour. Time seems to fly, but it feels like it’s standing still when I’m around Logan.

“Well, Mr. Knight, I think that concludes our walk-through. As I said before, I’ll set up another meeting with you with actual designs and a proposal and some paperwork.”

A smile creeps across his lips, and he continues to play along. I walk to the door to open it and Logan places his hand on my shoulder.

“Kayla.”

I turn around and search his face.

“I was thinking about what you said the other day about how monumental having a dog in your life was as a child.” He pauses. “I know our month deadline is coming up, but I’d like to keep Herman and give him that forever home he deserves. I’ve grown to love the little furball and I think Skylar would love him just as much.”

I cover my mouth with my hands and hold back squeals. Without hesitation, I go to Logan and wrap my arms around his neck and his arms snake around my waist. “Thank you! Thank you so much. Skylar is going to love him without a doubt.”