Chapter 17

17

L ittle girls took a lot of money, Logan learned quickly.

She didn't eat that much, but Logan was appalled by how much her cute little clothes cost, and he had to curb his impulse to buy her every toy she looked wistfully at. The food she liked best was fortunately not the most expensive, but Logan wanted her to eat healthy food and he was still unsure how much better organic noodles and butter were than their cheaper competition. Since he was ferrying a four-year-old, Logan sprang for car insurance, and gas was more than he ever remembered paying.

Tiny Paws was a huge chunk of change, on top of that.

The auto shop job was still at minimum wage, which was frightfully small after benefits were deducted, and when he started an official mentorship, there would be union dues owed monthly, even though Logan was confident that it would be a good long-term tradeoff. He and Mason got along well, and he was starting to count the rest of the staff as his friends. Many of the shifters that he ran into regularly at the grocery store or day care drop off would pause to chat, and he felt like he was part of a community. He and Tabby agreed to split any prize money they made, but the payouts were minor so far, although they were racking up the qualifications for the big show and a decent pot in August.

Logan wasn't sure what he'd be doing if it hadn't been for Tabby. Still living in Billings, undoubtedly, with no prospects or opportunity. The idea of raising Franzi in that horrid apartment was appalling, and if he was busier than he'd ever been in his life, he was also happier.

Tabby gave him no slack, and pretended her kindness was cutthroat, even though she clearly didn't know the meaning of the word.

Aside from training and doing any minor jump shows that didn't require overnight travel, they worked together on the ranch in the evenings, Franzi in tow, and they ate most dinners together. Logan insisted on helping in the kitchen and cleaned up afterwards, as much as Franzi let him, and he brought contributions when he could. The garden started putting out fresh greens and promises of fruit with little flowers. Logan learned more about plants than he ever imagined would be interesting. A make-shift playset just beside the garden began to take shape, starting from a pile of old tires that Logan pressure-washed, and a few sanded planks.

Franzi was playing on it one night after dinner, and Logan had the front wheel of Tabby's truck off to fix a slow leak in the tire.

"Not a lot of life left in these tires," he said regretfully, once he'd found the leak and patched it. "You'll want something better when there's snow on the roads."

"I just need them to hold it together until I can get a few more boarders signed up," Tabby said, wiping off her hands. She was painting the porch in the dying light, and had just set up a bank of work lights so she could go a little longer. Logan was not sure she ever stopped moving, and he was not sure he wanted her to. She was so fun to watch, with all her strength and energy. He wasn't sure how she was so sexy without trying.

Logan made sure that Franzi was staying safely out of the way and hefted the tire back into place, tightening down the lugs and lowering the lift.

Then, because Franzi was still very involved in her imaginary play and it was only early evening, Logan picked up a paintbrush and went to help Tabby. The porch had a lot of fancy decorative posts that took careful brush strokes to fill correctly and Logan had already spent a fair amount of time hand-sanding them.

The porch was one of the prettiest features from the outside, wrapping around three sides of the old house, and it was undoubtedly an attempt at some kind of architectural style that Logan didn't know the name of. The rest of the house was a pretty standard two story farmhouse with aging siding and small, sensible windows with double panes of glass. It was going to look a lot better with fresh paint, and Tabby had consulted Logan about colors before deciding on a pure white with slate blue trim to match the original slate roof. Already, it looked considerably better than it had the first time Logan drove up in the rickety stock trailer.

Franzi fell asleep on the porch swing while they were putting the final touches on, and Logan let her slumber as he and Tabby went out into the driveway to admire as much as they could in the last daylight.

"It looks gorgeous," Tabby said, her voice full of pride.

"Yeah." Logan wasn't looking at the house, but at Tabby, the planes of her face catching the final glow of sunset. The halo of the hair escaping her brown braid was golden in the low light.

"Veronica Chase can suck on an egg," Tabby said tartly. "I could not believe what she offered me the last time she tried to buy it."

"Tell her you already have a buyer. She'll offer twice as much."

Tabby glanced at him. "What, did you do real estate scams, too?"

Logan chuckled sheepishly. "Might have, once or twice."

"I'm not good at lying," Tabby said with a shrug.

"I would never have guessed!" Logan said in mock astonishment.

She elbowed him in the side and Logan realized that they were standing much closer together than he meant to be. He genuinely intended to respect their professional arrangement, but it was so natural to flirt with her and sidle up close…and sometimes, like now, he wanted nothing more than to lean over and kiss her, just to see if she would let him.

And if she let him kiss her…

"Will you teach me?" Tabby moved away to start coiling up the power cord that had plugged in the work light. She never stayed still for long.

Kissing? Logan struggled to remember what they were talking about. "Lying?" He trailed after her.

"You're incredibly good at it, according to Garrett, my investigator."

"Well, yes," Logan said modestly. "The first thing you do is remember that they don't know you're lying."

Tabby's face scrunched up in confusion. "What?"

"The only thing they know is what you tell them and what you show them. You might feel all guilty inside and know better, but they don't . Remembering that helps you bluff through."

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Don't write anything down," Logan cautioned. "No evidence. You can always backpedal on something you said and insist that the other person heard it wrong, but it's harder when it's in writing."

"Makes sense," Tabby said, nodding. "What else?"

"Direct their attention where you want it instead of waiting for it to go somewhere you don't want it," Logan said, pointing to a knot that Tabby was starting to roll up. While she was distracted juggling her coil and finding the end to pull through the loop, he slipped her phone from her back pocket and switched it with his own.

"So distract them?" Tabby said.

"Not just random distraction," Logan expanded, helping her find the loose end of the cord. "People know what they want, and a big part of staying ahead of them is understanding what that is and giving them just enough of their desire to keep them hooked."

Tabby slung the coiled cord onto the hook by the porch.

Standing well back, with absolutely no contact between them, Logan made a show of pulling the phone from his pocket.

"That's mine!" Tabby said, reaching back for hers and pulling out his. "When did you do that?"

"A magician never reveals his secrets."

Tabby swapped phones with him. "I supposed you'll pull a coin out from behind my ear next?"

Logan tucked some of her loose hair behind it, instead. "You're rich enough without it."

Tabby looked taken aback by the intimate gesture. "Not to hear Veronica Chase talk," she stammered, drawing away. "Can you believe she sent me another offer? It was another thinly-veiled threat that she'd get it when the property went into foreclosure anyway."

"I haven't even met her and I already hate her," Logan observed casually. It was probably a good thing he hadn't tried to kiss her. He didn't want to disrupt the careful balance that they had. "I should get Franzi into bed." He stepped back and touched the brim of his hat. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," she echoed.

Franzi woke up as Logan was carrying her upstairs to bed. "It's dark out!" she observed in surprise.

"Time for sleeping," Logan told her, opening the door to his apartment with one hand. He didn't have to lock up, out here, and he was glad he wasn't having to juggle keys, too.

"Okay," Franzi said, putting her head back down on his shoulder.

He got her through her nighttime routine with less fuss than usual and stood for a while looking out of the kitchen window at Tabby's house.

He didn't want to mess up what they had, but he found himself yearning for something more.

Herd , his stallion said with a yawn.

Logan shook his head decisively. He couldn't let his libido risk his place here. Relationships were messy and unnecessary, and he was already knees-deep in commitment to a four-year-old filly shifter.