hand, and begin walking him down the hall.
"Eighteen children about your age are waiting to meet you, you lucky boy." She wished her voice wasn't shaking. "You're gonna have a blast while your Dad and I slave away upstairs."
"Where, upstairs?"
"Right above you, two floors up. Mrs. Williams will call if you need me—there's an elevator straight to day care, and I'll be down before you can count to ten."
"I can count fast. Will you be close enough? Dad, too?"
"Promise."
Shane slowed when he saw a little girl kiss her mother good-bye, and he dropped Melody's hand to wrap his arm around her legs. "I don't like getting dropted off."
Melody cupped his little head and felt his shiver run through her. "I don't gotta live here, right?" he asked, looking earnestly up at her.
Melody squeaked and knelt once more, pulling him close. "Of course not. You live with your Dad. Nothing's changed, except Jessie gets to give Boneyard Tours during the day, and you get to play with kids who don't need liniment afterward."
As if on cue, a dozen or so children spilled into a glassed-in playroom. "Look at that," Melody said. "They're having fun already."
Shane took it all in, and when laughter erupted, he nodded and straightened. "Look, Mel, it's filled with all my new friends that I haven't met yet."
Melody's tears hovered so near, she could taste salt. "Yes, darling, it is. You can meet them as soon as you're ready."
Shane nodded and squared his shoulders. "Okay," he said, raising his chin. "Let's go meet them."
IT wasn't until Logan pulled into his parking space that he realized he'd been left to fetch and carry enough luggage for a European jaunt. He got out of the car swearing. He'd be damned if he'd make two trips just to haul a load of Mel's fluff.
After several aborted attempts, he finally managed to carry everything at one time, aware that his struggle was nothing short of pigheaded.
In the garage elevator, he lost his grip on one of the bags, caught it, and wrestled the damned thing up and under his arm. God help Mel when she got to the office, because he was going to be setting down some rock-solid rules for the future.
When the elevator opened on his floor, Logan heaved a sigh. Almost there.
Just a hall and a half to go
, he thought as he trudged on.
"Hey Hansel, where's Gretel?"
Logan was halfway through the partitioned secretarial offices, when the wiseass remark forced him to consider the smiles he'd been getting. He stopped and turned in the direction from which he'd come… and saw the trail he'd left behind. A freaking rainbow of bras, bikinis, stockings, even a pair of G-string bikinis—a treasure trove of man's favorite playthings—littered the floor behind him. "Damn!"
Tim Kaiser stopped at the opposite end of the trail. "Way to call a meeting, man. Cool. Do we get to keep the crumbs?"
"Shut up and help me pick this up."
Six men dove for the goodies. On second thought—"Don't touch!" Logan shouted.
A cumulative groan rose from the station's male population.
"Tim," Logan snapped. "Come and get this damned garment bag and take it to my office. The rest of you, back to work."
With more than a few wistful looks and a great deal of speculation, his eager helpers drifted away.
Retracing his steps and clearing his trail took Logan an agony of scorching minutes. When he finally bent on his haunches to pick up the last of the crumbs, a man-skewing black lace teddy, the elevator beside him opened and a pair of choice legs, feet encased in red spikes, stepped out and stopped before him, and Logan primed himself for battle.
"You kinky little devil," said the wicked witch of the east, spiking his guns.
Nearby, a gaffer with a death wish chuckled.
----
Chapter Five
"NOT a good time to push, Melody," Logan said as he rose, juggling a brimming tapestry bag and a black merry widow.
She dangled a pale gold bra before him. "I knew you were in trouble when I saw my favorite under-wire sticking out the elevator
"Eighteen children about your age are waiting to meet you, you lucky boy." She wished her voice wasn't shaking. "You're gonna have a blast while your Dad and I slave away upstairs."
"Where, upstairs?"
"Right above you, two floors up. Mrs. Williams will call if you need me—there's an elevator straight to day care, and I'll be down before you can count to ten."
"I can count fast. Will you be close enough? Dad, too?"
"Promise."
Shane slowed when he saw a little girl kiss her mother good-bye, and he dropped Melody's hand to wrap his arm around her legs. "I don't like getting dropted off."
Melody cupped his little head and felt his shiver run through her. "I don't gotta live here, right?" he asked, looking earnestly up at her.
Melody squeaked and knelt once more, pulling him close. "Of course not. You live with your Dad. Nothing's changed, except Jessie gets to give Boneyard Tours during the day, and you get to play with kids who don't need liniment afterward."
As if on cue, a dozen or so children spilled into a glassed-in playroom. "Look at that," Melody said. "They're having fun already."
Shane took it all in, and when laughter erupted, he nodded and straightened. "Look, Mel, it's filled with all my new friends that I haven't met yet."
Melody's tears hovered so near, she could taste salt. "Yes, darling, it is. You can meet them as soon as you're ready."
Shane nodded and squared his shoulders. "Okay," he said, raising his chin. "Let's go meet them."
IT wasn't until Logan pulled into his parking space that he realized he'd been left to fetch and carry enough luggage for a European jaunt. He got out of the car swearing. He'd be damned if he'd make two trips just to haul a load of Mel's fluff.
After several aborted attempts, he finally managed to carry everything at one time, aware that his struggle was nothing short of pigheaded.
In the garage elevator, he lost his grip on one of the bags, caught it, and wrestled the damned thing up and under his arm. God help Mel when she got to the office, because he was going to be setting down some rock-solid rules for the future.
When the elevator opened on his floor, Logan heaved a sigh. Almost there.
Just a hall and a half to go
, he thought as he trudged on.
"Hey Hansel, where's Gretel?"
Logan was halfway through the partitioned secretarial offices, when the wiseass remark forced him to consider the smiles he'd been getting. He stopped and turned in the direction from which he'd come… and saw the trail he'd left behind. A freaking rainbow of bras, bikinis, stockings, even a pair of G-string bikinis—a treasure trove of man's favorite playthings—littered the floor behind him. "Damn!"
Tim Kaiser stopped at the opposite end of the trail. "Way to call a meeting, man. Cool. Do we get to keep the crumbs?"
"Shut up and help me pick this up."
Six men dove for the goodies. On second thought—"Don't touch!" Logan shouted.
A cumulative groan rose from the station's male population.
"Tim," Logan snapped. "Come and get this damned garment bag and take it to my office. The rest of you, back to work."
With more than a few wistful looks and a great deal of speculation, his eager helpers drifted away.
Retracing his steps and clearing his trail took Logan an agony of scorching minutes. When he finally bent on his haunches to pick up the last of the crumbs, a man-skewing black lace teddy, the elevator beside him opened and a pair of choice legs, feet encased in red spikes, stepped out and stopped before him, and Logan primed himself for battle.
"You kinky little devil," said the wicked witch of the east, spiking his guns.
Nearby, a gaffer with a death wish chuckled.
----
Chapter Five
"NOT a good time to push, Melody," Logan said as he rose, juggling a brimming tapestry bag and a black merry widow.
She dangled a pale gold bra before him. "I knew you were in trouble when I saw my favorite under-wire sticking out the elevator
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