Gabriella was taken aback. The locksmith?
“He had a key, who is he?”
“He’s the locksmith I hired to rekey everything when I lost all of my keys. The same company also rekeyed them after the break-in.” It made perfect sense to her. Sirens screamed outside and Gabriella found comfort at see the police cars pull into her lot.
“Police! Is anyone armed?” The police and fire department strolled in together. The first officer was older, balding and had a faded scar across his cheek. The second officer wasn’t much younger by the looks of it. He must’ve lost weight recently because his pants were hanging from his hips and there was an overload of cloth cinched inside his waistband from his belt buckle.
“No,” she squealed. “I have a concealed weapon permit. My gun is on the counter.”
She pointed to the counter where one of the officers followed her direction and stood between them and her gun. The firemen went to the man on the floor and began checking his vitals.
“He’s alive,” she said. “I just hit him over the head with my gun. That’s why he’s bleeding so badly. But I don’t think I hit him that hard. He should be okay. Right?” She looked to Logan for confirmation.
Logan shrugged and nodded.
The firefighters checked the man’s head wound and although it appeared to be only superficial, they had a few words with the officers and waited for him to regain consciousness.
“Let’s cuff him before he wakes up. I don’t want to take any chances. Especially since he was armed.” The balding officer motioned for his partner to stay against the counter while he knelt down and began frisking the still unconscious locksmith. The officer handcuffed one wrist and then the other. Task completed he stood and turned to Gabriella. “Do you know this man?”
“I can’t remember his name. He’s a locksmith, I—”
“—That’s how he got in, when I got here the key was still in the lock.”
“I lost my keys and had to hire him to rekey the locks and let me in. I had a break in a few days ago. I’m assuming it’s the same guy.”
Logan pulled some paper towels off her counter and wet them at the sink. He began using the towels to wipe the remnants of the fire extinguisher from his face and arms.
The man on the floor began stirring and everyone’s attention focused on him.
“Sir? Can you hear me? Open your eyes. Sir?”
He opened his eyes, winced and brought his hands up to his head. “This is your fault.” He pointed to Logan.
“Sir, have you been drinking? Are you on any kind of drugs we should know about?
“I haven't been drinking. My head hurts like hell. I think I’m gonna puke.”
“Are you on drugs, sir?”
“No. Look, I'm just a normal guy who needs money, okay?” At that, the man turned and emptied his stomach all over Gabriella’s rug. “Can I at least get a towel?”
The officer gave him a paper towel. “Well, that knife just put you in a whole new category of trouble.”
Logan's hand pressed into the small of her back and led her toward the officer whose only job seemed to be was keeping an eye on her gun. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, not as scared as I was when I walked in on him towering over you. Are you okay? You’re going to need a shower.” Like they were both reading each other’s minds, Logan’s arms went out just as she was moving in to embrace him.
“I’m fine. Nothing I can't deal with. This isn't how I imagined seeing you again though. I can shower at your place.”
It was still there, that fire between them she’d been suppressing since he’d moved away. The butterflies dancing inside her stomach took flight as she studied his gaze on her. He looked the same as when he’d left. The fire extinguisher hadn’t covered his hair completely and she noticed his hair had lost some of its blond highlights, telling her he hadn't been spending much time outside.
Hearing he had every intention of going to her place made her insides tickle. His eyes were dangerous. He wanted her and he wanted her right now. The tension that radiated off him sent shockwaves to her entire system.
She swallowed. “You’re coming to my place?”
“Do you think there’s somewhere else I’d rather be? I’m going home with you. You and I have a lot to figure out.”
Once the firemen verified the intruder was okay, the police hauled the guy out of her store. The police verified she was indeed able to carry a concealed weapon and gave her gun back to her. Logan rolled up the rug and took it to the dumpster. This time, a different locksmith company, the owner himself, came and rekeyed her locks before Logan and she went home.
They rode to her house in silence. She couldn’t quite figure out what he was thinking. He was much too silent, taking up too much room in her tiny car and much too handsome. Even with fire extinguisher stuff on his clothes, he still looked damn good.
Good enough to eat.
“Do you normally wear tiny shorts when you go out? And no bra?”
She pulled into her space and her eyes widened as the realization that she’d talked to the police officers and Logan wearing nothing but a flimsy t-shirt and teeny tiny shorts. How embarrassing.
“Had I not been so busy saving your butt, I could have worn something more acceptable.”
“Oh, it’s acceptable. I just don’t like other men checking out your nipples.” He cleared his throat. “But I like them just fine.”
Heat pooled between her legs, his husky voice was satin over her hot skin. She shut her car off and looked down at her shirt, her tiny shorts that rode so far up her thighs you couldn’t tell if they were shorts or panties. She didn’t know what to say to him.
