Page 105 of Sin Bin

He grinned at her. “Gracias.”

She turned back to Ephraim with a sweetly inquisitive smile. “What were you about to ask me?”

He was frowning irritably as he watched Logan slather antibacterial sanitizer all over his big hands.

Meadow tapped his shoulder. “Ephraim?”

He pulled his glare from Logan to give her a charming smile. “Have you seen the famous telescope?”

“Not yet,” she said.

“No time like the present.” He held out his arm to her.

“Actually,” Logan interjected tersely, “she was gonna see it with me.”

A hot flush of embarrassment invaded Meadow’s face. As Ephraim’s lips thinned, she shot Logan a look that demanded, What is your problem?

He scowled and shoved the hand sanitizer back into her clutch. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was jealous. But it couldn’t be that. He was a manwhore, and manwhores didn’t get jealous.

Ephraim, to his credit, wasn’t backing down. “I’m a longtime member of the astronomical society. I’m perfectly capable of taking Meadow up to see the telescope—”

“I’m sure you are,” Logan growled. “But she came here with me, not you. So—”

Meadow had had enough. “You know what? Just forget it!”

Logan turned his frown on her. “But you wanted to see—”

“I’ll come back another time.” Without you, her glare told him.

Ephraim touched her arm. “The next Public Night is in two weeks. We can go together, have ourselves a romantic date under the stars.”

“I’d like that.” She gave him her best flirty smile. “You have my number. Call me.”

“I certainly will,” he promised.

Logan clenched his jaw, looking none too pleased.

Meadow grabbed him by the upper arm and bit out, “Let’s go.”

She fumed all the way back to the parking lot. As soon as they were inside the car, she burst out furiously, “What the hell was that?”

Logan scowled. “What was what?”

“That…that pissing contest! You totally embarrassed me, Logan!”

“Aw, who cares? That guy was an asshole.”

“The only one who behaved like an asshole is you!”

Logan started the car, the roar of the engine matching his black scowl. Instead of backing out of the space, he sat there with his hands draped over the steering wheel, glaring out the window.

“So I was right about your type.”

Meadow narrowed her eyes at him. “What?”

“Ephraim,” he grumbled darkly. “He’s the type of guy you like.”

“So what?” she challenged hotly. “There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s nice and smart and attractive. Plus we have a lot in common.” She paused. “If we ever got married—”

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