He took her hand in his again as they walked back to his SUV. Logan let Boomer jump into his compartment, and then he held the door for Ariana.
After parking at the curb in front of the terminal building, he got out and opened the door for her as she climbed out.
She shifted her eyes toward the back of his SUV and smiled. “Thank you for that. For letting me get to know Boomer a little.”
“We enjoyed it. There’s something else I would enjoy. Have dinner with me tonight,” he said on impulse, not giving himself time to reconsider. “Come to my place for a barbecue.”
“I appreciate the invitation,” she said hesitantly.
She was going to say no. He knew it. He could read it in her eyes. Disappointment flared up, immediate and intense.
“Are you sure?” she asked.
He was glad he’d been wrong. He couldn’t blame her for her hesitancy, though, after the mixed signals he’d been sending. “Yes, I am.” He gave her his best smile.
“Okay. I’d like that.”
Clearly inappropriate, but he wanted to do a fist pump, he was so happy. “Great! How’s seven? Do you want me to pick you up?”
“I’ll drive myself, thanks.”
He wrote down his address and handed her the paper.
“I’ll see you tonight.” She glanced wistfully toward the back of his SUV. “Boomer’s a beautiful dog. Thanks again for the...introduction.”
“No problem.” Logan leaned against his SUV and watched her walk away until she entered the terminal building and disappeared from his view. Damn, he had it bad for Ariana!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ARIANA PULLED INTO Logan’s driveway at five minutes to seven. His house was a sprawling bungalow situated on a large lot. The property appeared to back onto greenspace, with tall eucalyptus and sycamore trees visible over the rooftop.
She climbed out of her car and stood beside it, admiring his home. It was neat and welcoming. He must have had a way with plants—or he had a grounds service—as the lawn and gardens were healthy, attractive and well-tended. She saw the little stone statue of a dog adjacent to the garage and smiled. It was a miniature version of Boomer, so she figured it was a Malinois.
She walked around to the other side of her car, opened the door and hoisted the bag holding a bottle of wine, a smaller sack from a pet store and a baker’s box containing a lemon meringue pie. She’d had Max call one of his contacts at the police department to find out what Logan’s favorite dessert was. She’d made up a story about wanting to send him a token of appreciation, because she didn’t want anyone to know she was having dinner with him. She smiled again. Her investigative skills weren’t lacking!
When he’d invited her to dinner, it had taken her by surprise. As she mulled it over, she’d decided she must have misinterpreted his relationship with Becca based on the snippet of discussion she’d overheard. And she’d accepted.
Ariana felt remarkably happy and carefree...and excited about spending the evening with Logan. He had a way of lifting her spirits. It didn’t mean that she wasn’t concerned about what was going on at work, but she needed a night for herself, preferably with an attractive, fascinating man.
Boomer barked as she approached the house. She came to an abrupt halt and nearly dropped the baker’s box. “Coward,” she whispered, then squared her shoulders and walked up to the front door.
Boomer must have alerted Logan to her arrival, because he swung the door open before she had a chance to knock. Her breath caught not from surprise but the impact of seeing him. He wore jeans and a black lightweight sweater with a short row of buttons at the neck, the sleeves pushed halfway up. Unremarkable perhaps, but the clothes suited him. His smile alone was enough to get her heart racing. “Let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for the bags and the box. “Come in.”
With a light touch on her lower back, he guided her through a wide hallway. She glimpsed a cozy living room to the right and a well-equipped media room to the left. At the end of the hall, they turned right into a large, airy kitchen.
Logan placed the bag and the box on the counter. He pulled the wine out of the bag and looked at the label. “Nice. Do you want a glass of this or what I already have here?” He pointed toward the open bottle of red sitting next to two wineglasses. “I also have a bottle of chardonnay chilling in the fridge, if you prefer, but we’re having steak. Your choice.”
She smiled. “Since you already have that one open, I’m good with it.”
“What’s in the box?”
“See for yourself.”
He lifted the lid and grinned broadly. “Lemon meringue. My favorite! Good guess.”
She raised an eyebrow meaningfully.
“Hmm. Not a guess? I won’t ask how you found out, but thank you for going to the trouble.”
“Now open the other bag,” Ariana prompted.
He reached in and pulled out a rawhide bone.
“I hope that’s okay. I didn’t know if Boomer could have things like that.”
“It’s very thoughtful of you. I know he’ll love it. Thanks for thinking of him.”
Logan filled the two glasses with rich burgundy wine and handed one to her. “To new...friendships,” he said, clinking his glass lightly against hers.
His toast caused a warm sensation inside her. She took a sip of her wine.
“Let’s not talk about the explosions tonight, if that’s okay with you,” he suggested. “We could both use some downtime.”
She nodded and glanced around the kitchen. The steaks were marinating, the salad had already been tossed, and asparagus spears were in a clear bag, also in some sort of marinade. “This is very nice. You seem to have dinner preparations well under control, but can I help with anything?”
“Thanks for offering, but I have it in hand,” he said, moving efficiently around his kitchen.
“What time did you get off work?” she asked. It had to have taken him some time to do everything he’d already done, considering it was a spur-of-the-moment invitation.
“Five o’clock,” he responded as he turned the steaks in the marinade. “For once, I left on time. I had to pick up some groceries.” He smiled. “I like to barbecue and steak is my specialty. Speaking of which, come out back so I can check on the potatoes and put the meat on.”
Ariana followed him. She was barely through the door when Boomer bounded up to greet them. She immediately stiffened.
Logan must have sensed her reaction, because with a hand signal, he had Boomer dropping like a rock into a down position.
Ariana’s relieved hiss was out before she knew it was coming. “That’s some trick,” she said with a nervous laugh.
Logan gave Boomer the stay signal and turned to her. “Boomer has a repertoire of tricks, mostly to entertain kids when we visit schools, but that was basic obedience like I showed you earlier today. An essential element of a police dog’s training is to stop and stay if told to do so, regardless of what he’s doing.”
Ariana eyed Boomer uneasily. She’d enjoyed meeting him earlier in the day and was grateful to Logan for wanting to help her overcome her fear. As gentle as the dog had seemed, having him off-leash and wandering around still made her feel uncomfortable.
“Why don’t I put Boomer in his kennel, if it’ll make you feel better?” he offered.
“You don’t have to...” Her words trailed off as Boomer shifted in his down position, startling her. “Yes, thank you,” she amended quickly. “I know I shouldn’t be afraid. I wish I wasn’t, but he makes me nervous. Even after today.”
Logan walked over to Boomer and crouched down. He ruffled the dog’s fur, scratched him behind his ears and glanced up at Ariana. “Why don’t you say hello to him first?” He held his hand out for hers. When she didn’t immediately offer it, he smiled
encouragingly and added, “You did it earlier today. Will you trust us again?”
Ariana placed her wineglass on the patio table and wiped her suddenly damp palm on her jeans before placing her hand in Logan’s. Logan gently tugged her forward and down, and as he’d done at the park, he held their joined hands out for Boomer to sniff. The dog did so gently, with a soft touch of his cool, damp nose. Ariana knew Logan was watching her.
“Okay?”
She took a minute but nodded.
He then guided her hand down the dog’s glossy back. This time, when he glanced up at her, she gave him a small smile.
He pulled their hands away and stood, helping her up, as well. “He won’t hurt you. I promise.”
Ariana rubbed her palms together. “I know that with my head. Emotionally? Well, that’s another thing.” She smiled and shifted her gaze back down at Boomer, who hadn’t moved since Logan had instructed him to stay. She took a cautious step toward him. Bending forward, she held the back of her hand out for him to sniff again. When he did so once more and licked her hand gently, she touched the top of his head.
“Thank you for that,” she said to Logan as she stepped back, pleased with herself.
Logan opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, but was interrupted by the ding of a timer on his barbecue.
“That’s my cue to get the steaks on. I’ll put Boomer in his kennel first.”
“I feel bad that he has to be confined because of me.”
“It’s not a problem. The dogs like being in their kennels. Think of it as their den. I’ll show you.” He first went to the patio table, where he’d left the bag with the bone in it, then gave Boomer a release command, tapped his thigh and had Boomer follow him toward the far side of the yard. Ariana trailed behind at a safe distance.
On the other side of the house was a large chain-link enclosure. Boomer ran into the kennel unprompted and sat watching Logan expectantly. Logan reached into a cupboard affixed to the side of the house. He offered Boomer a treat first, then handed him the rawhide bone.
Ariana drew in a sharp breath when Boomer sprang at the bone in his enthusiasm. She relaxed again, amused by Boomer curling up with his toy. “He seems to like it! He looks happy in there.”
“That bone’s a treat for him, and he is happy. I told you it’s no hardship for him to spend quiet time in his kennel.”
“I’ve never thought of police dogs as being so...good-natured,” she said as they walked back to the patio.
“The dogs have a job to do, but they’re just dogs. They’re pack animals and bond with each other and their handlers like any other dog. Just give me a minute, please, so I can put our steaks on the grill.”
* * *
LOGAN PLACED THE steaks on the barbecue and checked the potatoes again. He swirled the asparagus spears in their marinade and set them aside. He had a few minutes before they needed to go on the grill. When he finished his preparations and turned around, his gaze was immediately drawn to Ariana.
He liked the way she was dressed. White jeans that weren’t too tight, a royal blue short-sleeved blouse and espadrilles. Her hair was straight and loose, and cascaded down her back.
She was wandering along the perimeter of his yard, her back to him. She paused here and there to lower her nose to a blossom or trail a finger along a velvet-smooth petal. She stopped by a large sycamore tree where he’d hung a wind chime. With a fingertip, she set it tinkling.
As he watched her, she tucked a strand of it behind her ear. When she spun around and her gaze met his, there was a smile on her lips and in the depth of her deep blue eyes.
Logan had never seen a more beautiful sight: the woman he’d discovered to be capable and strong, now soft and wistful, the spears of sunshine filtering through the canopy of trees casting speckled light on her.
She made a sweeping motion with her hand. “This is such a lovely spot.” Her laughter blended with the fading tinkle of the wind chime. “All the trees and flowering shrubs. The little koi pond. It’s not what I would have expected of a tough cop.”
Logan shook free of the trance that had come over him at the sight of her and joined her where she stood. He reached up and sent the chime twirling again.
Ariana watched it for a few moments. “Fairy sprites?”
He glanced at the shapes suspended from the thin nylon threads and nodded. “Something like that.”
“So whimsical. I wouldn’t have thought that of you.”
He smiled. “I didn’t buy it, if that’s what you mean. It was a gift from my sister. It’s made of Venetian glass. She bought the chime for me in Murano when she was on her grand tour after graduating from college. The sprites, as you called them, are supposed to have protective powers. Keep me safe at work.” He remembered that Becca had given it to him shortly after their father had been killed. She’d had tears in her eyes. He knew she’d wanted to beg him to quit the force. Instead, she’d sternly told him she trusted him to stay safe.
“That’s a lovely gesture,” Ariana said.
Logan took a step closer to her. When she remained where she was, her eyes steady on his, a small smile on her lips, he raised a hand and touched his palm to her cheek. Her smile wavered as her mouth opened slightly on a throaty “ohhh.”
“I shouldn’t want you this much, barely knowing you, but I can’t seem to help it.” He trailed a finger along her throat and down her arm, and felt the goose bumps form on her otherwise smooth skin. Reaching her hand, he laced his fingers through hers. He was tempted—oh, so tempted—to lean in and kiss her. Not just a touch, but something deeper. With any other woman he would have. With Ariana, he wanted to take care.
To fight the temptation, he took a step back and tugged her hand so she would follow him.
“Have a seat,” he said, indicating the chairs around the patio table. “I’ll top up our glasses.”
“Not much for me, please,” she said. “I have to drive.”
He poured her just a little more.
* * *
ARIANA SAT AT the table, sipping her wine, while Logan busied himself at the barbecue. His backyard was large and the mature trees around its perimeter gave it privacy. Here, too, the lawn and gardens were neat and well-groomed. She thought of her little apartment. It was close to the airport. She didn’t need a lot of space, especially with how much time she spent at work. But Logan’s backyard caused an unexpected longing for a place of her own. Not just a rental. A home with outdoor space, a nice yard...
She shifted her gaze to where Logan stood and realized that the yard she was thinking of had a play set for a child. She was shocked to realize that, in her musings, she wasn’t thinking in terms of being alone in the home, but with a husband and a child. Is that what people referred to as the ticking of the biological clock? She’d never felt it before. Was that what was going on?
She watched Logan turn the steaks on the grill. It wasn’t some obscure, faceless man she’d pictured in that fantasy yard. It was Logan. That thrilled and scared her at the same time.
She forced herself to look away and took another drink. It was just the circumstances, she told herself. It wasn’t that she was thinking along those lines about Logan specifically.
She took another sip, rose and walked over to where Logan stood. “Can I help?”
He hung the tongs on a hook on the side of the grill, gave her a wide smile and ran a hand down her arm. “I’ve got it covered. If you could take my glass to the table, I’ll go in and get the salad and bread.”
She did as he asked and sat down again. Through the patio door she could see him moving around inside, until he came back out with the rest of the fixings for their dinner. He went inside one more time for the bottle of wine.
“It’s nearly done,” he said as he placed the asparagus spears on some sort of flat sheet on
the grill.
Within minutes, he was serving their dinner. It all looked and smelled delicious. Taking her first bite, Ariana had to admit it tasted even better.
“I remember you saying you’ve always loved aviation, but how did you end up at the airport?”
“Before San Diego International, I worked for a private company, Sector Security. We provided guard services to the airport. I started out as a coordinator, advanced to operations manager. It’s a large company and the scope of my responsibilities was bigger than what the title implies. I reported to their national head of operations. We had a big contract with the airport, and I developed a really good relationship with my predecessor, George Dennison.” She glanced up at Logan. “Do you know him?”
Logan shook his head. “No. Tom Brody was the one to deal with any calls we got for the airport.”
Ariana took another bite of her steak. It was done to perfection. “Well, George had been at the airport for almost twenty years. When he decided to retire, he approached me and encouraged me to apply.” She chuckled. “More like coerced actually. Not that I needed much convincing. It was my dream job. I just wasn’t certain if I was ready for something so huge. George persuaded me that I was ready. He offered to be there for me, if I needed it. A mentor I could always reach out to.” She spread her hands. “And the rest is history.”
“Any regrets?”
Her gaze shot up. She thought about how perfect the timing had been for her, and the reason she had already been contemplating leaving Sector Security at the time. “Why would you ask that?”
He shrugged. “Your eyes.”
Ariana cast those eyes that obviously showed too much down at her plate. She concentrated on cutting a piece of asparagus. “No. I don’t have any regrets,” she replied.
He reached out and with a fingertip, he raised her face to his. “Then what?”
She didn’t want to talk about what had happened at Sector Security, Bryan Carpenter’s death and the guilt she still carried over it. She shrugged. “I found a number of areas of potential weaknesses at the airport after I started. The TSA covert testing failures had been leaked shortly before I started. I saw it as cautionary and did a thorough review of our systems and protocols, to ensure our operations were solid. I’ve been addressing them steadily, when I’ve been able to secure the funding.”