Fiancé at Her Fingertips (7 page)

DJ. Debra Josephine.

Debra made a fist around the delicate jewelry. How the hell had her own charm bracelet come to be on the floor of an invented intended’s SUV?

Debra pushed to her hands and knees and plopped onto the center of the rear seat, meeting Lawyer Logan’s eyes squarely in the rearview mirror. To her bafflement, those eyes crinkled and he smiled at her.

“I wondered how long you were going to stay down there all squished up before your discomfort got the best of your stubbornness,” he said.

Debra’s eyes widened. “You knew I was back here?” she asked.

“I saw your feet when I got in. It’s hard to hide feet that big.”

“Feet? I don’t have big feet!” Debra spluttered, certain any remaining reason she had in reserve had long since fled now that she was discussing her foot size with a man who, with her luck, in addition to having episodic breaks with reality, might entertain a foot fetish as well. “Stop the car. I want out.”

Lawyer Logan laughed. “How can I stop the car? We’re on the expressway.”

“Pull off to the side and let me out. Now!”

“Debra, I can’t let you out along the side of the road. It’s too dangerous. You never know who might pick you up.”

Debra faked a dry laugh. “Ha, that’s a good one. Listen, buddy, I don’t know you any better than Tom, Dick, or Harry out there on the big road, even though, for reasons
known only to you, you’re trying to convince others to the contrary. I’ll take my chances with Tom, Dick, and Harry. Now, let me out!”

“Sorry, I can’t do that, darlin’.”

Debra slid across to the door and tried the handle, though what she would do if it opened God only knew. They were flying down the interstate at seventy miles an hour.

Logan smiled. “I knew there was a good reason I had child-safety locks installed,” he said. “Silly me. I thought it was because I hope to fill the Suburban with children someday. Still, it’s nice to have a simulation to test their effectiveness.”

Debra slammed a hand against the window and was rewarded with a sore palm. “This is kidnapping! I demand you let me out immediately.”

Logan laughed again. “Kidnapping? You were the one who broke into my vehicle. How could that be construed as kidnapping?”

“I got in here to find out what kind of nut you are.”

“Oh, and did you find out?”

“I already knew you were several reams short of a legal brief. I just wanted irrefutable evidence.”

“And did you find that evidence?”

“Only an obsessive-compulsive personality would have a car this clean.”

He eased the car onto an off-ramp. “All right, I’ll level with you, Ms. Daniels. I
am
crazy.”

Debra clutched the back of the seat. This she hadn’t expected.

“Yep, that’s right, I’m completely wacko.” Lawyer Logan put a finger to his lower lip and made that ridiculous sound one of the Three Stooges was fond of making. “Downright cuckoo. About you, that is. And I guess I’m crazy for feeling that way. At least, that’s the impression you’ve been giving me.”

Debra was taken aback by the earnest, almost wistful tone of his voice. She met his eyes in the mirror and, to her dismay,
saw in them a longing that had been reflected in her own many times. She had to force herself to look away.

“Look,” she said, in the unenviable position of trying to reason with a lawyer who probably qualified for an emergency mental commitment—or a jail cell—incredible looks and puppy-dog eyes notwithstanding. “I’m sure you’re a very, uh, okay person. I’m not quite sure what made you pose for that photograph, but, hey, it’s America, after all. Land of the free and all that. I can’t begin to understand what kind of crazy coincidence made our lives intersect in this way, but if any of it has been my doing, I apologize for any inconvenience my actions may have caused you. I think it’s best if we put this all behind us and move on. If you’ll let me off somewhere, I’ll call my father to come and pick me up.”

She vaulted over the seat to the front in case she did have to resort to something drastic, like grabbing the steering wheel or tromping on the brake. She was ready to open the door and bail out when Lawyer Logan pulled the car to a stop. Debra looked up, amazed to find herself back in her parents’ driveway.

Logan turned in his seat to face her. She caught a whiff of his heavenly cologne. Coupled with the sudden warmth of his gaze, it was a potent combination.

“Debra, I understand your anger. I should have been more forthright with you about Catrina. I guess I haven’t gotten used to having someone in my life whom I have to answer to, either. But I find I like the idea of answering to you, Debra. I like it very much.”

Debra swallowed, disgusted by how much noise she made doing so. Lawyer Logan slid across the seat toward her, his body heat filling the suburban despite the air-conditioning operating full power. She pressed her back against the door.

“That’s it. You know what I’m going to do?” Debra said. “I’m going to pretend today didn’t happen. I’m going to go home and lock myself in my little house. I’m going to crawl into bed, and I’m not coming out until it’s tomorrow. Today didn’t happen,” she repeated. “It just didn’t happen.” She
fumbled for the door handle as Logan caught her arm and dragged her toward him.

“While you’re at it, Debra Josephine, you can pretend this didn’t happen either.” And with that, he placed his hands on either side of her face and brought his mouth to hers. Once again Debra experienced a surge of energy, the sharp sting of awareness at his tentative touch as he moved his lips over hers in a gentle yet erotic caress. Debra gasped at her unexpected response as his tongue swept the interior of her mouth. The kiss continued until it finally dawned on Debra that she was supposed to be resisting. Shoving the cad away. Raking his handsome face with her nails. Slapping a tanned cheek. Something. Anything. She made a feeble attempt to push him away, but by that time he’d let her go and slid back behind the wheel.

Debra grabbed the door handle and jerked the door open, and almost spilled out onto the cement drive. She slammed the door and ran to her car, then jumped in and hit the locks. Only when Lawyer Logan had backed out, honked, and left did she permit herself to ponder how the hell his kiss could have seemed so impossibly familiar.

As soon as the dark Suburban was out of sight, Debra fled the safety of her vehicle and raced for her parents’ front door as if a horde of hand-shaking, campaigning politicians had been set loose on the neighborhood. She catapulted over the yews and ran inside the house, slamming the door shut behind her. Pressing her back against that cold, hard surface, she sucked breath into her needy lungs. When her vitals were out of the danger zone, she turned and peeked through the peephole.

“Debra! What in heaven’s name are you doing now?”

Debra squealed and did a one-eighty. “Mother! You scared the living…daylights out of me! Are you all right?” She cast a concerned look over her mother’s shoulder. “Where’s Dad?”

Her mother frowned. “He’s lying down. He was quite upset, you know.”

Debra stomped her foot. “I knew it! That…that smarmy, two-bit excuse for a presumptuous con! How dare he bust in here and upset my father!”

Her mother’s frown deepened. “Your Logan didn’t upset your father, young lady.” Alva sniffed. “
You
did. I’ve never seen Stuart so put out. What in the world were you thinking, treating Logan that way? Your own boyfriend, for crying out loud. The same man whose praises you’ve been singing ad nauseam the last two months.”

Debra began to bang her head against the door. “How many times do I have to say this? That…that…devil’s advocate is not my boyfriend!”

Debra’s mother gave her one of those looks reserved for occasions when Debra had crossed the line. The same look Debra had received when she’d returned from a fifth-grade sleepover with a black-and-white pet mouse, complete with rodent cage and noisy exercise wheel. It resembled the look she’d gotten when she’d insisted on going out for the high school boys’ swim team. It was much like the look she’d elicited when she brought McGruff along on a family vacation to Branson several years back. Once her mother gave “the look,” it was time to get the heck out of Dodge.

“Debra Josephine Daniels, stop that this minute. Your Logan is a courteous, well-mannered young man who, in case you haven’t noticed, happens to look like one of those hunks straight out of the pages of
Playgirl
.”

“
Playgirl
? How do you know what’s on the pages of
Playgirl
, Mother?” Debra asked, trailing Alva to the kitchen.

“Word of mouth,” her mom snapped over her shoulder.

“Mother, this situation has gotten out of hand! You can’t know what a hideous hoax this fellow is pulling. It’s nothing short of, well, fraud. The man is an impostor of epic proportions!”

“Yes, dear.” Her mother started clearing away the lunch food. “I noticed those epic proportions. I thought perhaps, with the way you’ve been acting, they’d escaped you.”

Debra put hands to her warm cheeks. “For heaven’s sake,
Mother, I’m not talking about the cut of his breeches here. I’m talking about the content of his character!”

Her mother began to gather the salad bowls. Debra automatically began to help. She picked up the tea glass their surprise luncheon guest had used and stared at it. She found herself thinking about his kiss. His toe-curling, heat-provoking, hair-raising kiss. She set the glass back down with a clunk.

“So, what happened after I left?” she asked. “Did he try to sell you a time-share in Afghanistan?”

“Debra. I served my special date cookies. Logan seemed to enjoy them. The men talked golf, of course. They compared their handicaps, what ever that is, and agreed to play around some time this week.”

“A round, Mother, not ‘around.’” Debra stopped. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Dad’s playing golf with him? With this Logan character? Where? When?”

“I suppose the club. I haven’t a clue as to when. Why? You’re not thinking of making another scene, are you?”

“Me, make a scene? I’m the one who’s trying to protect this family!”

“Protect us? From what?”

“From your insane luncheon guest, of course!”

Debra’s mother got the same puzzled look she got when Debra’s father discussed asset allocation. “Why on earth would we need protection from you, Debra?” she asked.

Debra groaned. “Not me. Logan Alexander! Mother, this is serious. You may have been harboring a criminal.”

Alva Daniels wagged her finger at Debra. “The crime here is the way you’ve been carrying on. I can’t imagine what’s gotten into you. This can’t all be about Catrina. Apart from friendship, she means nothing to Logan. He assured us their relationship was over long ago. Really, Debra, jealousy doesn’t become you.”

“Mother.” Debra took hold of her mom’s shoulder and steered her to a chair. “Please. Sit down and hear me out. I want to tell you the truth about how I found Logan.”

Her mother sighed and perched on the edge of the dining chair. “I suspected you weren’t telling us the truth with that mall story. Imagine. A man like Logan hanging out at the mall in a novelty shop, hoping to be picked up.”

Debra pulled a chair across from her mother’s and sat down, knee-to-knee, nose-to-nose.

“Oh, but I did run across Lawyer Logan in a novelty shop at the mall. And I did indeed pick him up. That was all true. You see, I purchased him.”

Her mother’s mouth flew open. “You
purchased
him?” She started to rise, but Debra put a hand on her shoulder and pressed her back into her seat.

“It’s not what you think, Mother. You see, I was in the store looking for a gift for Suzi, and I was somewhat, shall we say, vexed about certain individuals’ preoccupation with my dating habits, and that’s when I saw him—I mean ‘it’— and I said to myself, ‘Yes! This is the answer to my problem.’ Of course, with my luck being what it is, all they had was Lawyer Logan. I could have had a CEO. Or a doctor. A pediatrician, Mother! But, oh, no, I had to settle for Lawyer Logan. Still, at the same time I thought he was well worth the twenty dollars I paid for him. That is, of course, until he showed up here today, complete with heartbeat, blood pressure, and perfect teeth.”

Debra checked her mother’s reaction. Alva looked as if Debra had suggested they get matching mother-daughter belly-button piercings.

“Are you telling me that Lawyer Logan is a…a…a…gigolo?” Her mother put a hand to her head. “I feel faint!”

Debra pulled her mother’s hand down. “For all I know, he may indeed be a gigolo, but he isn’t
my
gigolo. Frankly, I don’t know what he is.”

“But you just said you paid twenty dollars for him.”

Debra rubbed her throbbing temples. “Mother, let me finish. I saw this gag gift at the novelty shop. It was called Fiancé at Your Fingertips. It had half a dozen gorgeous male models posing as different professionals: Pediatrician Paul,
CEO Clay, Teacher Thomas, Farmer Frank, and so on. Each kit had a profile and fact sheet about the respective fiancé, and came with a five-by-seven photograph and several wallets. It even had a money-back guarantee if not completely satisfied, which, while I’m thinking about it, is something I should look into. I am definitely not satisfied. They’re lucky I don’t sue for pain and suffering, or post-traumatic stress.”

“What on earth are you babbling about, Debra? I don’t understand any of this.”

“What I’m saying, Mother, is that I found this novelty gift designed with the express purpose of tricking everyone into believing you have a boyfriend. It comes complete with a fake fiancé and detailed instructions on how to get the most out of your mythical man. So, I see it, I buy it, I take it home, and I follow the instructions to the letter. And what happens? I’m starring in a low-bud get Frankenstein flick. The bogus beau comes to life and I’m freaking out here, big-time. Now do you understand, Mother?”

“I’ve never heard such a fool thing in my life. Who would make such an outlandish product? Who in their right mind would buy such a thing?”

Debra arched her eyebrows at the unintended insult.