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He wouldn’t lie to his family, but that didn’t mean he had to spill his guts to them either. “Let’s just say something came up.”

She stared at him, and he felt exactly the same as he had when he was a kid and tried to sneak things past her. He’d never managed it. Not once. She had a built-in radar for bullshit.

“Does this something have anything to do with a certain hotel manager?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he told her. And he was also old enough to do it without his mother’s input.

“I hope so,” she muttered. “Be sure to tell her that if she breaks you, she buys you.” With that, she headed into the living room.

“Night,” Logan shouted as he opened the door. “See you all tomorrow.”

There were grunts for replies. Good to know they’d miss him.

Sleet hit the car windshield as he drove through town, telling him that, just like Agnes, the weather couldn’t make up its mind either. Instead of rain or snow, they were getting both.

Clenching and unclenching his hands on the steering wheel, Logan negotiated the narrow old roads down to the loch. He shouldn’t jump to conclusions over Agnes’ call. Just because she’d said she wanted him, didn’t mean she wanted to get physical with him. She probably meant she wanted to talk to him. Aye, that was probably all she meant.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting himself in his jeans to get more comfortable. Why was it taking so long to get there? You could drive right across the whole of Invertary in fifteen minutes, yet this trip was taking a lifetime.

“I want you,” she’d said. Damn it to hell. He wished she’d been more specific. What kind of want were they talking about exactly? Friends? Friends with benefits? Just benefits? Could he be a booty call for her if that’s all she wanted? Hell, yes!

At last, the pub came into sight, its walls glowing yellow under the uplighting. Logan parked behind it and was out of his car in two seconds flat. They would have locked the hotel doors by now, with only guests having a code to open them, so he’d have to go through the pub. His stomach sank. The last thing he needed was somebody stopping him to chat.

Keeping his head down, Logan prayed no one would notice him as he aimed straight for the interior entrance to the hotel. Of course, he wasn’t that lucky.

“Logan,” Dougal boomed. “What can I get you?”

There weren’t enough curse words in the world for his reply. “Nothing. I’m just cutting through. I have a meeting with Agnes.”

Dougal’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “At this time of night?”

“It’s barely half past nine,” Logan pointed out, still walking toward the hallway that led to the hotel.

“It must be important if she called you in this late in the day,” Dougal said. “I’d better come with you.”

“No!” Logan almost tripped over a stool. “No need for you to leave the bar. I can handle this.”

“Not at all,” Dougal said before turning to one of his staff. “Grace, watch the bar. I need to have a word with my manager.”

Fuck. Fuck. Damn. Hell. Shit. Crap.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his phone. “I’ll send Agnes a text to ask where we’re meeting.”

“I expect she’ll be in her office if she called you in,” Dougal said as he came around the bar.

Logan shot off a text: Dougal thinks we have a meeting. He’s coming with me.

He received no reply. Nothing. Now what?

“As you know,” Dougal said as they headed into the hotel, “we’ve had a few more thefts this past week, but nothing on the level of Mrs. Edwards’ ring. I don’t understand it myself—it’s as though the thief can’t tell the difference between a diamond and cheap glitter.”

Logan glanced at his phone. No message. He quickly typed ano

ther: Dougal is with me!!!!

“Everything all right?” Dougal said.

“Absolutely.” The phone was a burning coal in his hand, his jeans were strangling the erection of the century, and Santa was cockblocking him. But apart from that, everything was just hunky-dory.

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