Logan Steele arrived at Sutton’s estate, still not sure why his boss wanted him for this protection job. Some of the other men were available. Plus, he was still recovering from his previous assignment that had ended less than a week ago.

Babysitting a spoiled nineteen-year-old girl while protecting her from her crazy ex-boyfriend wasn’t exactly what Logan had envisioned when he’d joined Sutton’s security firm. Summer Bauer, the daughter of a prominent family in San Diego, had tested him sorely with her relentless flirting and salacious overtures. Heck, the girl made hell week during BUD/S seem like an average PT training session.

Just thinking about his service in the Navy sent his thoughts reeling. Not for the first time, he wondered if he’d made the right decision to retire from the teams. Civilian life wasn’t what he’d thought it would be. He felt like something was missing but didn’t know what it was. While he enjoyed the success of his cybersecurity company, he missed being a SEAL. That’s one of the main reasons he also worked for Sutton. He liked helping people; liked the rush of adrenaline that came with the job. But that empty feeling inside his chest always came back, making him crave his next adventure.

Before cutting the engine to his Jeep, Logan sent a text to Jace telling him he was here. Climbing out of his vehicle, he made his way to the front door of the mansion. The grandeur of the entire property still blew him away. Coming from such a humble home in Colorado left him feeling a little uncomfortable amidst all this money.

He didn’t like wealthy people. Actually, that wasn’t true. He just disliked rich people that thought they could do whatever they wanted because they have money. Greed, power, and money fueled the evil in this world. It’s what had killed Logan’s father when he’d died trying to take down a drug lord in South America. And it’s what made Logan want to be a SEAL.

Fortunately, Sutton and his wife, Elizabeth, were likable. They weren’t anything close to Summer or her parents.

Logan had almost made it to the veranda when Jace came out of the mansion to greet him. “What took you so long?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “I texted you thirty minutes ago.”

“Shut up,” Logan said, running a hand through his freshly cut hair. Jace knew exactly where he’d been. His team teased him about his standing barber appointment every three weeks. They thought it was due to vanity. He wasn’t vain. Just practical. His dark hair was thick and had more than one cowlick. Keeping it trimmed made it easier to deal with. “I had an appointment I couldn’t miss.”

Jace looked down at his phone and grimaced. “Speaking of appointments, I need to brief you so I’m not late for mine.”

“This better not be another teenage-girl babysitting assignment,” Logan said. “In fact, why can’t I get some dude who likes to watch sports?”

Jace’s mouth twitched at the corner. “It doesn’t involve a teenage girl.” He held up his hand. “And before you even ask, the client is an archery champion named Weslee Campbell.” 

Wesley Campbell? The guy’s name didn’t sound familiar, but Logan wasn’t into archery either. “Never heard of him.”

“You’ve never heard of him?” Jace asked with a laugh.

“Have you?”

“Yeah, man.” A smirk settled around Jace’s mouth. “Not sure what rock you’ve been hiding under, but you must be the only guy who doesn’t know who Weslee Campbell is.”

“What’s so special about him?” Logan asked, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Maybe I should look him up.”

“No time. Sutton is waiting for you,” Jace said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder to point to the house. “All you need to know is Weslee has a stalker and needs twenty-four-hour protection until the authorities find out who is sending the messages.”

“What is it with all these stalkers?” Logan immediately thought about the pretty girl on the beach. He had mixed emotions about how he’d handled the whole thing. He should’ve insisted they call the police right then. He’d been so concerned about her safety that he’d jogged by the house early the next morning and later in the evening, hoping to run into her again. Not literally—he’d already done that—but he regretted not getting her name or phone number.

He told himself he only wanted her contact info so he could make sure she was okay, not because he wanted to hear her soft southern drawl and offer to take her to dinner.

“We live in a crazy world,” Jace said, edging past him. “Wish I could stick around, but I’ve gotta go.”

“Hey,” Logan called out, “Are you up for climbing this weekend?”

“Don’t think you’ll have time,” Jace said without breaking his stride. “But let me know what you think of Weslee Campbell.”

Knowing he better not keep Sutton waiting any longer, Logan entered the house and hurried to the conference room. The door was closed, so he knocked once and then pushed the door open when Sutton called for him to come inside.

Logan’s lungs seized the second he entered the room. It was her. The same beautiful girl he’d been trying to forget ever since running into her a few nights earlier. His military training had taught him to keep his emotions neutral. Still, he kept his sunglasses on long enough to check his reaction before he took them off and met her startled gaze.

Was she the archery champion? His eyes flickered to the man sitting next to her. Or was he?

“Logan,” Sutton said, snapping him from his musings. “I’d like to introduce you to Weslee Campbell.”

Keeping his focus away from the pretty girl, he crossed the room and held out his hand to the man. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

“Pardon me?” the man said with a lift of an eyebrow.

Heat pooled in his gut as Logan dropped his hand to his side and shifted his attention to the pretty blonde.

“Apparently, you’re not a fan, but I’m Weslee Campbell,” the woman said, amusement lighting her aquamarine colored eyes. “Don’t worry about it. It happens all the time. I was named after my daddy but my mother insisted on spelling it differently.”

He was going to kill Jace. The guy knew all along the client was a her not a him.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Logan said, holding out his hand. “Logan Steele.”

Her perfectly shaped lips curved up as she placed her palm against his. He wasn’t prepared for the powerful zing of heat that burned through him. He wanted to jerk back and put some distance between them, but he held perfectly still.

Her smile wavered as she glanced down at their hands. “I think we’ve met before,” she said, quickly withdrawing her hand. “Unless you don’t remember me?”

Logan held back a sarcastic laugh. He remembered her all too well. “Yes, ma’am, we’ve met before.” He kept how often he’d tried to forget her the past few days to himself. “Did you ever contact the police?”

“Weslee, when did you meet him?” her companion asked, clearly not pleased with her. “And why didn’t you tell me about him?”

The irritation in his voice rubbed Logan the wrong way. Was the guy her father? Surely not her boyfriend. “We ran into each other on the beach the other night. She was upset because of a text message from a guy she didn’t know.”

“You knew about her stalker and didn’t do anything about it?” the man asked, his eyes flashing with anger. He turned to look at Sutton. “I don’t think this is going to work.”

“I disagree, Jon,” Sutton said. “Logan’s skills are exactly the kind needed to provide Miss Campbell with the best protection.”

“Uncle Jon,” Weslee said, her soft southern drawl cajoling the man’s anger away from Logan. “I’m the one who quite literally ran into Mr. Steele.” She moistened her lips and glanced quickly at Logan. “He did help me by searching the area thoroughly for an intruder. He also offered to call the police, but I refused and then hurried back to the house to help Inez.”

Logan appreciated her defense of him. He appreciated a lot of things about her. How could this beautiful woman, who looked more like a super-model, be an archery champion? His gaze traveled over her delicate features, noting her flawless, golden skin didn’t have one freckle that usually came from being in the sun. Her long hair was like spun gold, shimmering under the chandelier’s lights. Somehow, he knew her hair was soft and would smell just as good.

Jace was right about one thing…what rock had he been living under to not know about this girl?

Logan looked at Weslee’s uncle just in time to see a smile soften his mouth. “I apologize, young man. I’m Jon Curtis.”

“No apologies necessary, sir,” Logan said, grasping the man’s hand. “I’m assuming the police couldn’t find anything since you both are here?”

“That’s right.” Grave lines creased the man’s forehead. “While this man has never outright threatened Weslee, I’m concerned about the tone of his messages.”

Logan took a seat next to Sutton and asked for further details. The stalker usually messaged her on social media. They still weren’t clear how he’d gotten her cell phone number. Logan could figure that one out with the right equipment and some time.

“I’ve printed out all of the previous messages,” Jon said, sliding a folder over to Logan. “You can read for yourself that he’s focused on Weslee’s appearance.”

Logan opened the folder, noting the spelling of her name as he read over some of the messages. He didn’t like the tone either. Clearly, the guy was a little unhinged. He was obsessed with Weslee, particularly her hair. Logan chastised himself for his earlier desire to feel how soft her hair was. Her stalker mentioned her hair in each message, fantasizing about touching it or running his fingers through it.

He directed most of his questions to Jon, whom he’d discovered wasn’t really related to Weslee. He was her father’s closest friend and the attorney for Ground Zero.

Ground Zero, the nutritional supplement company her father had created, he had heard of. The company focused on the outdoor sports community rather than just the traditional athlete. Some of the guys at the gym he frequented used the company’s products religiously. Now that he thought about it, he had seen Weslee’s picture before. Only instead of wearing the silky dress slacks and pale pink blouse she had on today, she’d dressed in full camouflage, a Ground Zero ball cap, and held her bow.

Every time he or Sutton asked Weslee a direct question, Logan told himself that her southern accent wasn’t anything special. He’d heard it hundreds of times over the years. He also ignored the pull of attraction he felt each time she spoke or their eyes met. He was a professional and wouldn’t let his feelings get in the way of protecting her.

Besides, she couldn’t be more than twenty—totally off limits. He sure hoped this wealthy barely-not-a-teenage-girl wasn’t anything like Summer. Unlike his last security detail where they knew the identity of the stalker, Weslee’s stalker was an unknown. Logan’s job protecting her could go on for months. If Weslee tried any of the seduction tactics Summer had used on him, he wasn’t entirely sure he could resist her.

The thought made him feel weak. Logan wasn’t weak. He was a former SEAL, trained to withstand brutal circumstances. He had survived three months in a Syrian prison the previous year after his SEAL team had been captured, and then escaped with his team by piloting a rickety helicopter without any previous experience. That act could’ve been labeled as stupid, but he wasn’t weak.

Drawing on skills he’d honed as a SEAL, he viewed Weslee as only the mission. He needed to keep her safe, find the threat and then eliminate it.

Jon handed both Logan and Sutton a list of her scheduled appearances over the next month. “Are all of these necessary for you to attend?” Logan asked Weslee, reading over the events. Most of them were held in sporting goods stores or gyms, which would be easier to secure. The outdoor archery tournament scheduled for the first week in April made him uneasy. He’d need backup, preferably from his former SEAL team. Since the event wasn’t for another three weeks, he’d have to find out if they were involved with other assignments. Otherwise, he’d utilize off-duty police officers.

“Yes,” she said.

“No,” Jon said at the same time. Her guardian sighed with frustration. “Weslee, please be reasonable. Do you really have to attend every single event?”

“I thought that was the whole reason for a bodyguard.” She looked directly at Logan. “Are you saying you can’t protect me?”

“No, ma’am.” He narrowed his eyes, not liking the insinuation that he wasn’t competent. She didn’t back down under his glare, which equally irritated him and impressed him. “I’m simply asking a question.”

“Oh.” She clasped her hands together in front of her. “I suppose I can forfeit some of the appearances, but I don’t want to miss the tournament. It’s a charitable event to raise money for leukemia research.”

“Okay.” Logan glanced down at the paper and back up again. “It’s in North Carolina?”

“Yes, and it’s important to me to be there. One of my best friends died from leukemia our senior year in high school. Her mother had raised her and her little brother on her own and wanted to do something to remember her and help at the same time. My parents organized Melanie’s Find the Cure tournament a few years back, and Janice, Melanie’s mother, has run it ever since.” Weslee’s eyes shimmered with moisture. “I couldn’t attend last year due to scheduling conflicts, but Janice called me a few months ago and asked if I could be there.”

“All right.” Logan glanced at Sutton. “The tournament isn’t for another three weeks so we’ve got some time to work out all the logistics.”

“Excellent,” Sutton said with a nod of his head. “What are your thoughts about the event tomorrow evening?”

“What event?” Logan asked.

Weslee answered, explaining about the charity event held annually at the Hotel del Coronado that benefitted children and needy families.

“In conjunction with the fundraiser,” Weslee continued, “Ground Zero donates all the proceeds for the entire month of March to help feed kids who are starving right in our own backyards.” She lifted her chin a notch. “Mama and Daddy haven’t missed it once since they started attending ten years ago, and I won’t miss it either.”

While Logan appreciated her desire to help children, the timeframe to prep for the event was limited. He’d only been to the historic hotel once so he wasn’t familiar enough with the structure to ensure her safety. Before Logan could shoot it down, Sutton gave his approval.

“Given the location and the high-priced ticket cost for each guest, I don’t see why you can’t attend, Miss Campbell.” Sutton turned to Logan. “Are you okay with that?”

“I suppose I don’t have a choice,” Logan said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Am I right?” he asked Weslee.

“I’m not trying to be difficult, Mr. Steele.” Frustration flashed in her light blue eyes. “It’s one of the main reasons I’m here, but I’m sure we can make other arrangements if you don’t wish to attend.”

She was going to be difficult in every way. Difficult to control and difficult not to like. “Since I am going with you I think you can call me Logan, ma’am.”

A small smile edged up one side of her mouth. “All right, Logan.” Her lips parted to reveal perfect, white teeth. “But will you stop addressing me as ma’am? It makes me feel older than twenty-five.”

She was twenty-five? That meant she was only four years younger than him. He narrowed his eyes, feeling annoyed that she wasn’t as off-limits as he’d thought. “We’ll stay for the auction, ma’am…I mean, Weslee.”

The sweet smile slipped. “But what about the dance?”

“What about it?” He was not going to spend the entire evening watching her dance with other men. That was a security nightmare. If he dug deep enough he knew he’d find another reason why watching her dance with other men wasn’t acceptable.

He wasn’t digging.

“I understand if you aren’t comfortable dancing.” She offered him another smile. “I certainly don’t expect you to dance with me.”

Logan wasn’t uncomfortable dancing. His mother had made him take a dance class right before he joined the ROTC in high school, telling him that every naval officer needed to know how to dance for the Navy Ball. So, yeah, he could dance. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to dance with her.

“Logan is an excellent dancer,” Sutton said, clapping Logan on the shoulder. “I’ll make sure my tailor fits him for a tux this evening.”

A tux? Why did rich people like to dress in the most uncomfortable clothes known to man? Wearing a tux meant wearing a tie. He hated wearing ties.

“How wonderful,” Weslee said, sounding anything but happy. Clearly, she didn’t want Logan as her date any more than he wanted to be there. She reached for her glass of water and took a sip, keeping her gaze averted from him. When she set the glass down, she accidentally knocked it over. “Oh my goodness,” she said, jumping up from her chair. “I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, dear girl,” Sutton said, handing her a napkin. “It’s just water.”

She pulled at the fabric of her pink blouse, which had become slightly transparent. It didn’t reveal anything but she asked to be excused to the restroom. Sutton told her the location of the bathroom, offering to have Agatha bring her dry clothing.

“No, thank you,” she said. “I’ll only be a moment.”

Once she was gone, Jon leaned forward, looking directly at Logan. “The ball is important to Weslee, but I’m worried about her safety.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Just this morning, the North Carolina police found the body of one of the missing college students from Duke. They don’t have a suspect in custody but believe it’s a man who’s been stalking her for the past few months.”

“The same stalker?” Logan asked, wondering why they were even talking about allowing Weslee to attend any public events with a murderer out there.

“No. At least the police tell me it’s not related.” He explained how her stalker’s MO was not the same. The girl from Duke had received only handwritten notes whereas Weslee’s stalker has used digital means like social media, email or her cell phone. Although they’d recently changed Weslee’s phone number, the guy had managed to find it again. “Aside from the different methods used, the stalkers for both girls started in the same time frame, about six weeks ago. The detective said it was unlikely a stalker would pursue two women at the same time.”

“Does Miss Campbell know about the other girl?” Sutton asked.

“I told her this morning.” His forehead creased with worry lines. “It’s the only way I could convince her to agree to have a bodyguard.”

Logan drummed his fingers on the table, considering everything he’d just been told. The auction was risky, but not as risky as the dance afterward. Men would be asking Weslee to the dance floor. Men she most likely didn’t know. How could he guarantee her stalker wasn’t among the elite patrons? Or he could pose as a staff member to get inside the doors. Both Jon and Sutton agreed with him when he voiced his concerns.

“You could pose as her date,” Jon suggested.

“Yes,” Logan said, “but I’ve been to a few formal dances with a date and it didn’t stop other men from asking her to dance.”

“That won’t be a problem if her date is a possessive boyfriend,” Sutton said with a small smirk. “You have years of covert operation experience, Lieutenant Steele. However, I doubt any of those ops were as pleasant as this one.”

Logan shifted on his seat, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. He wasn’t worried about roleplaying Weslee Campbell’s possessive boyfriend. What worried him more was how much he liked the idea of being her boyfriend. There was something about her that got to him. She’d been on his mind ever since running into her on the beach. If he didn’t watch himself, he’d be as whooped as Blaine Hammerton. His former SEAL teammate was now a married man.

Weslee Campbell was the mission. Logan needed to remember that.

“I’m trusting you to take care of her,” Jon said, his voice wobbly with emotion. “She’s like a daughter to me, and I don’t want anything to happen to her.”

“Yes, sir,” Logan said, reaffirming in his mind that she was the mission. “I will guard her with my life.”

They discussed the merits of staying in the main house in North Carolina or the family’s beach house once they left San Diego. Both homes had sophisticated security systems already in place. Her home outside of Raleigh was larger and had more unfavorable variables, such as the heavily wooded area in the back, so they all agreed the beach house on Emerald Isle was the best place to keep her safe. The private beach had security guards at both entrances, limiting the access to the house.

Jon asked that they not say anything about staying at the beach house until after the charity ball. Weslee hadn’t been back there since her parents had died, and Mr. Curtis didn’t want to upset her. “She’s already not going to like having you assigned as her boyfriend.”

Logan was okay with that. Things would be a lot more complicated if she wanted him for a boyfriend. He wasn’t good boyfriend material anyway. It wasn’t that he couldn’t commit or be faithful. He wasn’t a player, and he didn’t mess around with women for pleasure. The problem was a sense that he wasn’t good enough for someone like Weslee. She was so innocent and untainted with a giving heart. He was cynical, had witnessed a lot of crap and done things he still had nightmares about.

Weslee came back into the room, the front of her shirt nearly dry. Taking her seat, Jon gave her an update, and he was right…she did not like the idea of Logan posing as her boyfriend.

“Honestly, Jon, I don’t understand why this is necessary.” She spared Logan a quick glance before continuing on with her impassioned speech. “Mr. Steele will be right there watching me dance. And it’s not likely any of the men asking to dance with me will be my stalker. Even if he is there, he isn’t going to do anything to me with Mr. Steele present and in a room full of people.”

Mr. Steele? What happened to using first names? And why was she making such a big deal out of it and talking like he wasn’t in the room? His male ego didn’t like her vehement response. It was one thing for him to admit he wasn’t good boyfriend material…quite another for someone who didn’t know jack about him to make that call.

“Weslee, please don’t be difficult.” Jon rubbed his head. “I feel a migraine coming on and I don’t want to argue about this further.”

Logan kept his mouth shut. Frankly, it was probably a good idea if Sutton assigned another protection agent to watch over her. The fact that he even remotely cared about her response was a red flag.

“All right, I won’t argue,” she said, looking at her uncle. “And I’m sorry your head hurts.”

“This is for your good, sweetheart.”

“I know.” She looked at Sutton. “I apologize for my rude behavior. It’s just been a stressful day.”

“No need to apologize,” Sutton said, his chipper British accent as pleasant as ever. “I understand how high emotions ride with this type of situation.”

Logan waited for her to address him. Apparently, he didn’t warrant an apology. Without meeting his eyes, she pushed back from the table and stood up. “Thank you for taking the job, Mr. Steele. I appreciate your willingness to watch out for me until the police find out who is sending me the messages.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am,” he said, getting to his feet. If she noticed he didn’t use her first name, she didn’t show it. In fact, she never made eye contact with him again, not even when she said goodbye.

At Jon’s request, Sutton sent an escort from his regular staff of security agents, giving Logan a chance to go home and pack. They would leave for North Carolina on a private jet right after the ball, which eliminated him worrying about keeping her safe at the airport.

He texted Jace once he was in his Jeep. Thanks for the heads-up, pal. I made a fool out of myself when I addressed her guardian as Mr. Campbell.

Jace called him back instead of texting him. He was laughing too hard to speak so Logan hung up on him. He headed for home, ignoring Jace’s attempts to call him back. His friend was waiting for him at his condo when he pulled in ten minutes later.

“Shut up,” Logan said when Jace cracked up again. He unlocked the front door and pushed it open.

“Sorry.” Jace followed him inside before he could lock him out. “I’m done laughing.”

“Right.” Logan headed for the kitchen to get a drink of water. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” he asked. “I thought you had an appointment?”

“I did. With In-N-Out.” He sat down on one of the barstools. “Wish I had your assignment, but Sutton made it pretty clear he only wanted you for the job.”

“Of course he wanted me.” Logan opened his fridge, frowning at how empty it was. “I’m the best op he has.” He grabbed a bottle of water and closed the fridge.

“You think that’s why he picked you?” Jace asked with a snort. “Dude, take a look at Sutton’s other men. He handpicked them for each assignment and they all ended up engaged or married.”

“Sutton isn’t into matchmaking. He just needs my computer skills.” He unscrewed the cap and took a drink of water. “Even if that were true, I’m not getting married to Weslee Campbell. She’s the mission. End of story.”

“So you don’t think she’s hot?” Jace asked.

“She’s pretty, but I’m not interested,” he said, taking a long drink, nearly emptying the bottle.

“Dude, you need to get that mystery girl out of your system. You’ll never see her again.”

Logan choked on the water, spewing the contents in his mouth across the countertop and onto the front of Jace’s shirt. In a moment of weakness, he’d told Jace all about his encounter with the pretty blonde he’d run into. Jace was the one who had encouraged him to go back to the same stretch of beach to look for her, suggesting he just knock on the door. Not wanting to come off as another stalker, Logan had never approached the house. Besides, the house had appeared unoccupied. He figured the pretty girl had gone back home to wherever she was from.

“Was it something I said?” Jace asked, standing up and pulling the wet fabric away from his body.

Logan ignored his friend’s question. There was no way he’d ever tell him that Weslee was the mystery woman. Grabbing a wad of paper towels, he threw it at Jace and then tore off another section to wipe down the counter.

“Wait a minute,” Jace said, eyeing him with suspicion. “You saw that girl again, didn’t you?”

“I saw her.” Logan had learned a long time ago it was better to stick closer to the truth when withholding information. “It was no big deal. Besides, she was with another guy.”

“That bites.”

“Yeah, but she wasn’t as pretty as I remembered.” Logan shrugged and tossed his water bottle in the recycling bin. He wasn’t lying. Weslee was much prettier than he’d remembered.

Before Jace asked more questions, Logan briefed him on the plans to keep Weslee safe.

“You dog,” Jace said when he heard Logan was flying on a private jet to a secluded beach house in North Carolina. “Are you sure you don’t need backup?”

“I might, but I’m not calling you if I do.” He headed out of the kitchen to go pack his bags. “Not after you let me make a fool out of myself.”

“Oh come on. That was funny,” Jace said. “Seriously, how could you not know Weslee Campbell is the hot girl from Ground Zero?”

“Because I use the stuff from Outdoor Energy.”

“Better not let Weslee hear you say that,” Jace said from behind him. “They’re rival companies.”

“Guess I can’t pack any of my Outdoor Energy shirts then.”

That made Jace laugh. “Since she’s just the mission, I’d pack a few of them just in case she makes the moves on you.” He grinned when Logan shot him a surly look. “For whatever reason, wealthy, beautiful women find you attractive.”

“Summer Bauer was not a woman.”

One of Jace’s brows lifted. “Dude, I saw her. She is definitely a woman.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Eighteen is considered an adult.”

“Why don’t you remind her she’s an adult the next time she pitches a fit for her daddy to buy her a Tesla even though she’s driving a new Mercedes Crossover.”

“At least she has good taste in cars.” Jace slugged Logan in the arm. “Her taste in men is highly questionable.”

Logan smirked and threw a wadded-up Outdoor Energy shirt at him. “North Carolina is sounding better and better.”

Thankfully Jace had a date and left Logan alone to finish packing. He wasn’t sure how long the job would last, but he packed for two weeks. If the op went on longer than that, he knew how to do laundry.

The drive didn’t take long. Logan frequently ran this stretch of beach, so he was familiar with the ritzy homes. But as he parked his Jeep in front of the bungalow, he felt like he was about to face enemy insurgents. He took in the opulent dwelling and shook his head. His idea of a bungalow was not congruent with the gorgeous ocean-front house. He knew what property cost in San Diego and this was a prime location. It was hard to imagine the house was only used a few times a year.

Climbing out of his Jeep, he took note of his surroundings. If stalker-fan-boy knew Weslee was staying here then he was probably watching right now. Logan didn’t catch sight of any lurking strangers as he approached the front door.

The security agent from Sutton’s opened the door for him. The scent of freshly baked bread made Logan’s mouth water, reminding him that he’d missed dinner.

“Everything quiet?” he asked the man.

“Yes, sir.” The guy glanced at his watch. “Jenkins will be here at 2300. You can call me if anything comes up before then.”

“Thanks, man,” Logan said, shaking his hand. He waited for the guard to exit before he closed the door and locked it. Eager to check out what smelled so good, Logan turned and almost plowed over Weslee. “Hey,” he said, unable to hide his smile when her eyes zeroed in on his shirt.

Self-preservation and a little streak of rebellion made Logan wear one of his Outdoor Energy shirts. Weslee Campbell was not happy about it.