Free Firestorm by Lisa T. Bergren Page B

a dark green V-neck sweater and a big brown Stetson that added inches to his already impressive height. He took it off as he approached her door, and she could have sworn that he was talking to himself as he climbed her porch steps.
    After he knocked, Reyne counted to five before she moved toward the front door. Then she forced herself to walk in an easy manner and opened the door with a smile.
    His face lit up when he saw her. He actually took a half-step as if he wanted to take her in his arms and hug her, but then he regainedcontrol. “Reyne,” he said with a nod, turning his hat over and over in his hands. “It’s great, really great to see you.”
    “It’s good to see you too, Logan,” she said, amazed her voice could sound so cool when her insides felt like churning butter. “Did you want to come in? Or should we go straight to dinner?”
    “Oh, you thought
you
were the colleague I was asking out for dinner?” Logan deadpanned. “No, I was talking about Ken.”
    Reyne gave him a sidelong look. “Well, call him and tell him you’ll have to give him a rain check ’cause I’m all ready and am very intrigued with where you’re taking me. There’s only one restaurant in Elk Horn, and that’s a pretty sad café. Is that the ‘great little place’ you were talking about?”
    Logan flashed her a mischievous smile. “There’s no pulling the wool over your eyes, woman,” he said. “Let’s go, and I’ll show you.” She followed him outside, and he opened the car door for her.
    “I’m on to you, McCabe,” she said saucily. She averted her eyes, trying to maintain her cool facade.
    Logan climbed in beside Reyne and started the engine. He put his arm behind her on the seat and looked over his shoulder to reverse. “You know,” he said idly as they backed up, “it feels great to have a woman figure me out.” He stopped, shifted gears, and waited for her eyes to meet his. “To be honest, it feels terrific.”
    They turned out on the highway, and Reyne was so entertained by his stories of spring training in Missoula that she barely kept track of where they were going. Logan was in the midst of a hilarious story about a rookie stuck on the jump tower, refusing to come down, when they turned off the highway and headed up a side road.
    Reyne had been laughing so hard that she cried. How great it felt to laugh like this again! How long had it been? She wiped her eyes,still giggling, and asked, “Okay, McCabe, just where are you taking me? We’re way past the café, and I know for a fact that there are no tourist lodges or restaurants this way.”
    “Oh, you know that for a fact, do you?” he said. “I’m almost certain that I saw something up here the other day.”
    Reyne was puzzled, but she was in such a merry mood that she was not about to dispel it with an argument. He’d find out soon enough that there was nothing around here for miles, and then they would turn around. She dared to glance up at him.
    He was staring ahead, carefully maneuvering past huge potholes as they climbed higher and higher on the mountain road. His burly arm and hand held the wheel effortlessly, and Reyne found herself wondering what it would feel like to have that arm around her—and not just reaching for a saddle horn. She quickly forced her eyes back to the road.
    They pulled to a stop at last, and Reyne looked around at the forest that surrounded them, smiling suspiciously. “See, I—”
    “We’re here!” he said, hopping out of the car and coming around to let her out too.
    “We’re where, McCabe? There’s no place to eat around here for miles!” She stood with her hands on her hips and stared at him in puzzlement.
    “Oh ye of little faith,” he said, stepping past her and opening up the trunk. Pulling out a giant picnic basket, he smiled at her smugly. “Follow me, madam.”
    Logan relished every moment of Reyne’s surprise. He loved to see delight visibly spread across her face as they entered the