When I Found You

By the time she’d finished, her cat had sauntered over. She bent down and stroked her tortoiseshell-and-white coat. “Hey, Sabrina. How was your day? Better than mine, huh?” she murmured.

Taking her briefcase and placing it on the dining room table, she walked into the kitchen, pulled a Coke Zero out of the fridge and took a drink straight from the can. A second long drink went a considerable way to soothing her parched throat.

Soda can in hand, she walked back to the dining room and set up her laptop.

Her apartment had two bedrooms. The smaller one was configured as an office, but she seldom used it. If she had to work, which she did most nights, she preferred to do it with a view of the ocean, visible through the dining room window.

As her computer booted up, she made herself a large spinach salad for dinner and hunkered down with her laptop to catch up on her emails and various other mundane matters that she hadn’t gotten to during the day. If she had time, she wanted to review her risk map, to decide which area she would next target for improvement.

With a long-suffering meow, Sabrina threaded between her ankles a few times. Ariana couldn’t resist picking her up and taking comfort from cuddling her for a few minutes. When she placed Sabrina back on the ground, the cat leaped onto a chair, curled up and in minutes was snoring contentedly.

Ariana kept working for as long as she felt she was being productive, crawling into bed near midnight.

It seemed she’d just rested her head on the pillow when her alarm went off at five thirty. With bleary eyes and a sluggish body, she got ready for work and wished for a quieter day.

Thankfully, it turned out to be uneventful. Ariana did some follow-up on the incident involving the two drunken women and initiated the hiring process to find Dave’s replacement. On the plus side, she had the opportunity to tour a group of schoolchildren through the airport’s emergency operations center. By late afternoon, she had her second wind and was feeling energized rather than drained. She was engrossed in a proposal Max had presented to her for upgrading their security cameras in the parking garages. An enhanced video management system was her current focus.

The knock on her door frame caused her to jump, and she pressed a hand to her racing heart. Spinning her chair around, she felt her heart rate accelerate further.

Logan stood in the doorway, dressed in indigo jeans and a pale blue polo shirt. She glanced down quickly to see if Boomer was with him. Not seeing the dog, she shifted her gaze back to Logan. He had one arm causally braced against the jamb, the stance emphasizing the muscles in his arm and torso. His dark hair glistened under the harsh fluorescent lights of the corridor. He had a smile on his lips and in his eyes. And those intense blue eyes mesmerized her.

“I’m sorry to startle you,” he said, drawing her out of her reverie.

Realizing her hand was still on her chest, she lowered it. “Oh, it’s not your fault. I was reviewing a report and must’ve been absorbed in it.” She felt her lips curve in response to his smile.

“I was here debriefing with the officers on site,” Logan said. “We were discussing new operating procedures in view of what happened the day before yesterday. I wanted to fill you in and see if there were any new developments on your end.”

She shook her head. “No. We’ve closed the file on that incident. Have the two women been charged?”

“Oh, yeah!” He gave her that appealing smile. “So do you have a few minutes or do you need to get back to your report?”

She glanced at her watch.

“We can do it some other time,” he suggested. “If you’re busy right now.”

Ariana realized she didn’t want him to go, and it wasn’t just professional curiosity as to what the SDPD’s new procedures were. “No, that’s okay. I’m ready to call it a day. Come in.”

Logan dropped his arm and took a step forward, but paused, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Since you’re calling it a day, why don’t we get out of here? I’ll buy you a coffee or, better yet, a drink. We could probably both use one.”

Ariana was about to agree. Then his conversation with his girlfriend, Becca, came to mind. She opened her mouth to decline.

“We can discuss the procedures,” he said quickly before she could respond, and cast his gaze around her small, sparsely furnished office. “But in a more comfortable environment. If you don’t already have plans, I’ll throw in dinner to sweeten the pot.”

There was that smile again. Ariana laughed. “No need for dinner, but okay to getting out of here.” It was going to be a business discussion, that’s all. She routinely had coffee or lunch with men in the course of her duties—her profession was male-dominated. Why would it be any different with Logan? Whether he had a girlfriend or not was irrelevant. The butterflies in her stomach aside, it was going to be nothing more than business. “Let’s go have a coffee,” she said.

CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_a1876c65-09d7-5124-9314-af60aa6d23a0)

BY THE TIME they reached Ariana’s car, Logan had somehow convinced her to have a drink with him instead. He suggested Buster’s Beach House Bar.

Ariana had never been there, but Logan must have frequented the place, if the number of people who said hello or had a quick word with him were any indication.

He motioned for her to precede him to the back of the room, and she slid into a corner booth. A waitress appeared almost before he sat down.

“Hey, Carly,” Logan greeted her.

“Good to see you, Jagger. The usual?” she asked and gave him a flirtatious smile. It made Ariana wonder about the relationship Logan and the waitress had. She felt guilty about her curiosity as soon as Carly turned an equally warm and welcoming smile on her. “And for you?”

Ariana found herself smiling back. “What’s his usual?”

“Corona, with a slice of lime, straight from the bottle.”

“I’ll have the same but with a glass. Thanks.”

“Sure thing,” Carly said, placing two cardboard coasters on the scarred wooden table.

“I was wrong,” Logan said after Carly left.

“Wrong about what?”

“I would’ve bet a month’s salary that you’d be a wine drinker. A white—smooth and well-chilled.”

Ariana laughed. “You’re not wrong. I’ve been known to have a glass of chardonnay or sauvignon blanc now and again. Working in the field that I do, beer has become an acquired taste. Hanging around so many men, I’ve learned to enjoy a frosty glass of Corona as much as a glass of wine. So, tell me, how’d you get the nickname Jagger?”

Logan cleared his throat and his eyes darted around the room. He seemed uncomfortable with her question and appeared relieved when the waitress returned.

“Appreciate it, Carly,” he said, when she placed the bottles and glass, along with a small bowl of nuts, in front of them.

“I like adaptability in a person,” he said with a chuckle when they were alone again, gesturing to her beer.

Obviously he wanted to change the subject.

He raised his bottle and clinked it to Ariana’s glass, then took a long, slow sip. “What made you choose security as a career?” he asked.

“I thought you wanted to discuss your new procedures.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean we can’t get to know each other a little first. With Brody gone, we’re likely to be working together again.” He flashed her a smile.

Ariana placed her glass back on the coaster, reached for a candied nut, popped it in her mouth. Okay, they could play it his way. She was curious about him, too. “It matters to me to make a difference. Keeping people safe is important.”

“And why the airport?”

She tilted her head. “I’ve been fascinated by airplanes since I was a kid. My father was an engineer. He went to school in England, where his father was from. I learned about mechanics and laws of physics from an early age, but to this day I remain in awe of the fact that we can get a nearly four-hundred-thousand-pound, one-hundred-and-fifty-or sixty-foot wingspan piece of machinery, loaded with people and cargo, into the air, and it stays there over great distances.” She laughed. “Silly, I know, but flying fascinates me.”

“I never thought of it that way.” He watched her for a few moments. “If you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look British.”

“My grandfather was English. My grandmother, Brazilian.”

His long, contemplative gaze caused all sorts of odd sensations inside her.