Fiancé at Her Fingertips by Kathleen Bacus

indigestion?” he said. “No, it’s that acid reflux again. It’s hell getting old, Logan.”
    “You’re hardly old, Stu. My father probably has close to ten years on you. He’ll be sixty-six next month.”
    “And that would be one Warren Alexander, owner of a St. Louis Chevy dealership. Right, Lawyer Logan?” Debra challenged.
    One dark eyebrow rose skyward. “That’s right, Debra. See, you do know me.”
    “Not at all. I’m just really, really good at memorization.”
    “Shall we go in and eat?” her mother suggested. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry enough to eat sushi.”
    Lawyer Logan put a hand on Alva Daniel’s waist. “You look like a woman who knows her way around a kitchen,” he said. “Lead on, Alva.”
    “He’s sure something, your Logan,” Debra’s father exclaimed, putting an arm around Debra’s shoulders.
    Debra kept her eyes on the profile of the stranger smiling down at her mother, and gritted her teeth. “He isn’t ‘my’Logan, Dad. If I could just figure out what the devil he’s trying to pull here with this little stunt…”
    Her father laughed. “Ah, I remember those bygone days of breaking up to make up. That spontaneity, that thrill of reconciling after a disagreement. Memories to cherish.”
    Debra stopped and put her hands to her ears. “Dad, please, I do not want to hear about Mom’s and your sex life!”
    He grinned at her. “Who said anything about your mother?” he asked with a wink.
    Debra groaned and followed her father into the dining room. She was now thoroughly convinced everyone besides her had been replaced by aliens from the old TV show The X-Files . She grimaced. Where the heck were Scully and Mulder when you needed them?
    “Debra tells us you’re an attorney, Logan,” her mother was saying when Debra entered the kitchen. “I’ve got to tell you, when Stuart and I heard that, well, frankly, we were shocked. I remember Debra saying once that the only difference between a lawyer and a prostitute was that at least with the prostitute you got a kiss before you were schtupped.”
    “Mother!” Debra exclaimed, and hovered near the telephone—just in case a speedy 911 call became necessary— while her mother busied herself serving lunch.
    “Well, it’s true,” Alva said. “There’s no love lost between you and the legal profession.”
    The Casanova at their dining table sighed. “My profession has been somewhat of an obstacle to our relationship, Alva, but I believe I’m making some headway in convincing your stubborn daughter that blood, not ice water, flows through my veins.”
    Debra snorted. “Vampires have blood flowing through their veins, too,” she said. “Unfortunately, it’s from the latest victim they’ve sucked dry before moving on to the next one.”
    “Debra,” her mother scolded. “Do you have to be quite so graphic?”
    Lawyer Logan raised his eyebrows in feigned helplessness. “See what I put up with, Alva?”
    Debra put her head in her hands, fearing for her sanity.
    “Debra tells us you met at the mall,” her mother commented, and Debra snapped to attention in time to see Lawyer Logan nod.
    “At a novelty shop?”
    He nodded again.
    “In the aisle between the bogus barf and the novelty poop. Remember, Logan?” Debra broke in, snaring his compelling blue eyes with a challenging look.
    “Oh, do tell us all about your first meeting!” Debra’s mother encouraged.
    Debra smiled for the first time since her father informed them he’d met Logan and invited him home. “Oh, yes, Logan. Do tell Mother all about our first meeting,” she urged with a smile. She pulled out a chair, sat down, propped her elbows on the table, and rested her chin in her hands. “We’re all just dying to hear your version.”
    The sexy shyster pinned her with an intense look of his own. Her heart began to pitter-patter. Perspiration beaded on her upper lip. And then he smiled. No ordinary smile, this was the smile of a