“Now, why can’t I have luck like that with women?” Max murmured into Ariana’s ear as he pulled a chair out for her, thankfully not giving her direct view of the table where Logan was. “That guy earns the right to his nickname.”
After greeting everyone, Ariana tried hard to keep her gaze from wandering back to Logan and gave Max a questioning look. “What do you mean?”
Max chuckled. “You haven’t heard about how he got his nickname?”
She shook her head, not wanting to admit that she’d been curious about it.
“You do know O’Connor’s nickname is Jagger, right?”
She nodded. “As in Mick Jagger? Thank you,” she said to the waitress when she was handed a glass of white wine.
“I took the liberty of ordering for you when Cyn texted me that you were on your way.” Max raised his bottle of beer to her glass and tapped it with a clink. “Good to see you out. As I was saying, yes, as in the Rolling Stones.”
“He sings?” she asked, incredulously.
Max laughed, barely managing not to spit beer on everyone around the table, and caused heads to turn his way. “No. He earned his nickname because of his moves with women. Mick Jagger is famously successful with them.” Max made a subtle gesture with his bottle toward Logan. “It seems the captain shares that trait.”
The image of Logan lifting the gorgeous redhead into the air and placing his lips on hers was vivid in Ariana’s mind. Against her better judgment, she peered around Cyn, seated on her other side, and cast a furtive glance at Logan. He was sitting down again and leaning back in his chair, a huge grin on his face. He had an arm draped around the back of each of the chairs occupied by the redhead and the blonde. When his hand squeezed the redhead’s shoulder and he whispered something to her, her rich and sensual laugh could be heard clearly. As Ariana watched, the redhead leaned in and rested her head against Logan’s shoulder briefly before glancing at Rick.
Was the redhead Becca? Ariana experienced an unusual sensation watching the vignette. Trying to put a name to the feeling, she astonished herself. Jealousy? She was feeling jealous, watching the cop she barely knew with a woman! “Well, more power to him,” she grumbled in response to Max’s statement. “As long as he does his job and does it well for us, what he does with his personal time is no concern of ours.”
* * *
LOGAN WAS THRILLED for Rick and Madison. His sergeant and the K-9 Unit’s veterinarian had just announced their engagement. If that wasn’t enough happy news, Cal Palmer, one of his best K-9 officers, and his wife, Jessica, were expecting their first child together, to join Cal’s daughter, Haley, from his first marriage, and Cal and Jessica’s adopted daughter, Kayla. They had a lot to celebrate. When Rick had announced the engagement, Logan had been the first to sweep Madison up into his arms and congratulate her, before he gave a hearty bear hug to Rick, too.
He glanced at the blonde on his right. He wouldn’t have known Jessica was pregnant if they hadn’t announced it, despite the pregnancy being nearly four months along. His colleagues across the table, Rick and Cal, were both wildly in love with their women. Logan couldn’t have been happier for them. Their impromptu celebration included Shannon Clemens, the newest addition to the K-9 Unit, and the unit’s administrative assistant, Beth. Madison had invited two of her colleagues from the Mission Bay Veterinary Clinic: Heather, their office manager, and Jane, one of the other veterinarians who used to work with the SDPD dogs until Madison had come along. As Logan listened to what Heather was saying, he noticed a table behind her, at the far end of the room.
She sat tall and erect, long dark auburn hair hanging more than halfway to her waist. Her back was to him and partially blocked from his view, but there was no mistaking the thick, pin-straight hair or the quarter profile he glimpsed. He’d just been thinking about how lucky his friends and colleagues were to have found such special women: intelligent, warm, caring and—never one to underestimate the importance of it—beautiful, and Ariana had popped into his thoughts. He’d meant to call her, but then one thing after another had come up. Or, if he was honest, he’d avoided it because he was wary of the emotions she’d stirred in him in the short time he’d known her.
As if he’d conjured her, she was sitting not more than a hundred feet from him. He saw her flick her hair back and laugh.
Logan tried but was unable to keep his eyes from repeatedly drifting back to her. When she rose, said what appeared to be goodbyes and slung the strap of her handbag over her shoulder, he stood, too, as if drawn by a magnet.
“Enjoy the rest of the evening,” Logan said to the table in general.
“Leaving so soon?” Rick inquired. “I figured my engagement might be worth a few more rounds at least.”
Logan chuckled. “Believe me, we’ll have many more rounds for an occasion as monumental as this. Besides, I’m driving tonight.” He glanced toward the front of the room, and saw Ariana winding her way through the crowd around the bar. He noted more than a few admiring glances cast her way and what he assumed were pickup lines, as well. “Uh...I just remembered something I have to do.”
He kissed Madison’s cheek and shook Rick’s hand. “I’m very happy for you two.” He offered congratulations to Jessica and Cal a final time. With a wave to everyone else at the table, he hurried out of the lounge.
Logan was glad he’d decided to follow Ariana when he saw that someone else had the same idea. Except Logan was convinced that the other guy’s intentions were less honorable than his, based on the way he was leering. The guy was definitely headed toward Ariana and her car, when Logan dropped a firm hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think so, pal,” he stated in a no-nonsense tone.
“Hey! What the heck?” The man tried to shove Logan’s hand away and took a drunken swing at him.
“I wouldn’t try that again, if I were you.” Logan hung on to him by the back of his shirt and pulled his badge out of his pocket with his other hand. “Go back in the bar and have one of your buddies take you home. You’re in no shape to drive.”
The realization that he was tangling with a cop must have permeated the guy’s alcohol-sodden brain. He mumbled an apology, made two attempts to yank his shirt back into place and, with his head hung and shoulders slumped, hightailed it back into The Runway.
The incident had given Ariana time to get into her car and start backing out, evidently oblivious to the little drama that had unfolded. That annoyed Logan. What kind of a security professional was she, parking in a remote, unlit area of the lot, and so unaware of her surroundings that she didn’t realize that an inebriated jerk had followed her? He didn’t want to think what could’ve happened, if he hadn’t been there to intervene.
Logan’s mood was decidedly sour by the time he stalked up to Ariana’s car and stood in front of it. He could see the surprise register on her face. He stomped over to her window and signaled for her to lower it.
He didn’t let her get a word in before he spoke. “You should know better than to park in the farthest and darkest corner of the lot. What were you thinking?” He hadn’t realized how much it bothered him to contemplate that drunk harassing her.
He couldn’t explain the protectiveness he felt toward her. It wasn’t akin to what he felt for Becca, because there was nothing sister-like about his feelings for Ariana.
“It’s nice to see you, too, Captain,” Ariana said with a forced smile and syrupy-sweet voice. “Are you here to deliver the safety tip of the evening?”
“No.” He’d followed her on impulse and was glad he had. “Did you...” He trailed off, ignoring the curious expression on her face. There was no point enlightening her about what had happened. He was starting to think logically