Free Playing Love's Odds (A Classic Sexy Romantic Suspense) by Alison Kent Page B

given so much to me?"
    "No high school prom?"
    His attempt to lessen the pain failed. She smiled anyway. "No prom. No dates."
    He returned to her side and hoisted himself onto the corner of the railing. Legs spread wide, he braced his palms on either side of his thighs and leaned forward. "You gave up a lot."
    "Not as much as my father."
    Enough said. She didn't want to talk any more. Or examine the feelings of a teenage girl who'd been forced to grow up years too soon. She was doing her best to live with the result. "What about you? Did you grow up around here?"
    "On a ten-acre tract outside town. The house spread along with my momma's waistline each time she had another kid. Daddy'd just stick another room on wherever he could, without having to take out any trees. 'Kids gotta have trees,' he'd say." He made a swinging motion with his arm. "We had tire swings, rope swings, tree houses, forts, hammocks, you name it."
    "Sounds like fun," she said with an envious sigh.
    "Fun, yeah." Logan laughed. "Rowdy as hell. Five boys and a dog and cat each made for no peace and no privacy."
    "You told me you had three brothers," she said, immediately sorry she did when his eyes grew shuttered.
    He remained quiet for an interminable minute, staring down at the deck between his feet. "Simon, the oldest, was assigned to one of the last units sent to Vietnam. We haven't seen him since. Officially, he's MIA.
    "It's really weird, but once in a while my folks get a blank postcard from the strangest place. Afghanistan, Panama, Lebanon, Moscow. I don't know. Maybe's he's gone underground. Saying I have three brothers is an insulating reflex, I guess." He shrugged. "I don't expect to see him again. Hell, after twenty-some-odd years I doubt I'd even recognize him."
    Tentatively, Hannah laid a hand on his thigh. "That must be hard. Even knowing my father would eventually die didn't make it easier to deal with when it happened."
    "Did you feel relief?"
    Don't make me admit something so selfish
, she thought, remembering how often she'd asked herself the same question. She lifted her hand from his leg and laced her fingers together. "I felt lost. I didn't know what to do with myself. My mother'd been so involved with my dad that we'd drifted apart and didn't seem to need one another any longer. I hated it." Old hurts filled her throat. "And I missed her."
    Logan hopped down, settled back into the lounger, and changed the subject. "So how'd you get into chemistry?"
    Focusing on a single gull standing on the beach, she answered without having to think. "I wanted to find out why my father died." Unclenching her fists, she wandered the perimeter of the deck and stopped behind Logan. "If fate hadn't intervened, I would've ended up in medicine."
    "You sound like medicine's too late."
    She looked down at his upturned face and resisting the urge to reach out and discover the texture of his hair, returned to her chair. "Not too late. Just impractical. Med school is a full-time commitment. Time and money I don't have."
    "Instead you've gotten caught up in one hell of a mess," Logan said shuffling through the papers.
    "First the barrels in the warehouse, then the brown car I see every time I turn around, and now my house." Hannah buried her face in her hands and groaned. "Oh, my house."
    Logan reached over and ruffled her hair. "It's not so bad."
    "You're not the one who has to clean it up," she answered, enjoying his teasing. And his touch.
    "I'll make you a deal."
    Raising her chin an interested notch she narrowed one eye. "What kind of deal?"
    "If you'll stick around and play chauffeur for awhile, I'll help you clean your place this afternoon."
    She rescued a piece of paper that blew out of his lap and landed in hers. "And what ulterior motive prompts such a generous offer?"
    "Ulterior motive? Me?"
    "You must have one because I can't think of any legitimate reason for me to hang around," she answered, secretly wishing she could. For some obscure reason, most