He Kills Me, He Kills Me Not

brick side of the building. Logan didn’t know him, but he recognized the uniform as the type worn by the mechanics who maintained the police cruisers. A half-smoked cigarette dangled from the man’s lips. A baseball cap was pulled down low over the right side of his face and he wore his hair shaggy, shoulder-length. Logan nodded in answer to the man’s wave, then put his briefcase in the Mustang and started the engine.
    He backed out of his space and put the car in drive, but instead of pulling out onto the street, he stopped. The smoking area for employees was in the back of the building, not the side. And something about the man put him on edge. Logan looked back toward the building, but the mechanic was gone.
    The shrill sound of a microphone brought his attention to the front steps. The press conference was starting. One of the reporters glanced his way and excitedly gestured to the cameraman beside him. Logan pressed the gas and sped away.

 
     
    Chapter Fourteen
     
    W hen Logan arrived at home, he climbed the stairs to the back deck and found Karen and Amanda sitting at one of the umbrella-topped round tables, hunched over a board game.
    Amanda’s back was facing him and she didn’t hear his approach. Karen glanced up, but Logan shook his head and pressed a finger to his lips, motioning for her not to let Amanda know he was there.
    She smiled and looked back down at the game board. Logan was carrying a basket and he set it beside the French doors before stepping behind Amanda’s chair.
    Curious to see what had her so engrossed, he peered over her shoulder. Scrabble. Karen must have brought the game with her, because the only games he had at his house involved cards, poker chips, and when a woman was playing, as little clothing as possible.
    The thought of playing strip poker with Amanda was a tantalizing one, but not something he wanted to think about with Karen sitting three feet away.
    He leaned down next to Amanda’s ear. “Honey, I’m home.”
    Startled, she jumped half out of her chair, bumping the table and sending her tiles flying.
    Karen laughed, shaking her head as she set the Scrabble box on top of the table and started to rake the tiles off the board into the drawstring bag.
    Amanda scooted her chair back from the table and stood next to Logan with her hands on her hips. “I could have won if you hadn’t done that.”
    “Really?” he asked as he looked at the score pad. “Did you have an eighty-three-point word you were about to put on the board?”
    She smirked and shoved him out of her way. Logan’s breath caught as he watched her crawl under the table to retrieve the tiles that had dropped to the deck, her shorts tightening around her shapely rear.
    The sound of a throat clearing had him jerking his gaze back to Karen. She gave him a wink. “I’ll leave the game here, Amanda. I’ll see you two later.”
    “Oh, okay,” Amanda called out from under the table. “Maybe I’ll have better luck tomorrow. Thanks for playing.”
    “Good night, Logan,” Karen said as she struggled unsuccessfully to suppress a grin.
    Logan gave her his sternest glare but she only rolled her eyes, chuckling as she walked across the deck to her car.
    “Got you, you slippery little devil.” Amanda crawled out from under the table, triumphantly holding up a wooden tile.
    Clearing his suddenly-dry throat as her gaping tank top revealed far more than she probably realized, Logan forced himself to meet her gaze. “If you’re through crawling around on your hands and knees, I thought you might like to get out of here for the evening.” He grasped her hand and pulled her to her feet.
    She dusted off her knees then pitched the tile into the Scrabble box. “What do you mean, get out of here ? Go into town?”
    “Not exactly.” He retrieved the basket and placed it on the table, flipping the top open to reveal the food packed inside.
    “A picnic?” A delighted smile lit up her face as she rummaged around in the basket. “It looks and smells wonderful.”
    He swatted her hand and she jerked it back, allowing him to close the lid. “You can look at all of that later. Daylight’s wasting.”
    A fter grabbing her shoes, Amanda followed Logan across the deck and down the steps that led to the backyard. “Uh, Logan, your car is the other way.”
    “Who said we were taking the car?”
    She rushed to keep up with his long stride as they stepped down onto the grass. With her hand in his, she followed