Page 92 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

“Oh, I definitely was.” He looks down at me.

His eyes are molten. Still steely blue, but with a heat that’s nearly overwhelming. I’ve never seen this side of Logan Alexander. I’ve caught and misread glimpses of his kindness. But I’ve never seen Logan when his laser-focus and attraction was centered on someone. And that someone is me.

“Drop it, Rhett,” Logan commands.

Rhett plops the fortune cookie on the floor in front of himself and looks up at us with a forlorn expression.

“Can he have a T-R-E-A-T?” I ask Logan.

Rhett starts dancing around.

“I hate to break it to you, but he can spelltreat,andwalk,andfood. I’ve spelled those words far too often to my dog walkers and family over the years. He made the association. And, yes, he can have a treat. Wait here.”

Logan returns with a handful of treats. He looks over at me and waggles his brows. “This is going to do you in, Pennington. You already loved my dog. Now he’s going to be irresistible.”

He’s not the only one who is irresistible. I smile at Logan.

“Okay, Rhett. Don’t let me down, buddy. We’re here to impress.”

I cross my legs and sit on the floor, taking a bite of my ice cream, my attention fixed on Logan far more than Rhett.

Logan lifts his arms to form a circle off to his side. His deep, commanding voice is all serious business when he says, “Jump, Rhett.”

Rhett leaps into the air, flying through the hoop of Logan’s arms.

“Of course you can’t do something simple, likesitordown,” I tease.

“He does those tricks too. But I’m here to impress you, Olivia. Not to show you an average night with an average dog.”

“Well, it worked. I’m impressed.”

Our eyes lock, and we both know who’s really impressing me.

“Good. But the show’s not over. Rhett loves to show off. Especially when he really likes someone.”

“And … he likes me?” There’s a note of question in my voice.

“More than he likes most people.”

I smile. “I like him more too. Than most people.”

Logan doesn’t look away from me. He stands over me, treats in hand, Rhett sitting at his feet. The way Logan stares into my eyes, transparent and guileless, sends chills skittering down my arms. I’ve never felt so simultaneously vulnerable and safe. I want to jump up and wrap my arms around Logan, to kiss him again—to talk until we fall asleep. But I’m not as brave as he is, so I smile shyly and turn my eyes toward my bowl of ice cream to take another bite.

“Next, Rhett will act out a movie scene,” Logan says. “Ready?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” I admit. “Also, how many hours have you spent training him? This is worthy ofAmerica’s Got Talent.”

“An embarrassing number of hours, to be honest, but I love it. Time with Rhett relaxes me. And he likes learning tricks.”

It occurs to me that it will take a lifetime to unearth all of Logan Alexander’s layers. And my new mission is to keep discovering his numerous facets for as long as he will let me.

“Rhett, I’m the bad guy,” Logan says.

Rhett hunkers down with his front paws extended and his rear in the air. He growls at Logan.

Logan picks up a toy bone off the floor. “I’m stealing the money, Rhett!”

Rhett leaps in the air, clamping onto the bone while Logan holds the other end. When Rhett lands, they play tug-of-war. Then Logan lets go.

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