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“I hadn’t noticed,” she said with a sniff, which earned her a laugh.

“Sure, you hadn’t.”

“I was just thinking how you better be careful or the half a pie you just inhaled might go to your gut.”

Logan patted his abs, and Marti swore she saw the muscles ripple. “I’m not worried.”

Marti averted her gaze and took a sip of her wine, hoping to distract from the disturbing ball of warmth pooling low in her belly. “Tell me about medical school. What was it like?”

Logan thought for a moment, staring down at his plate before he answered. “In a single word? Intense. With all the labs and notes and vast quantities of information you need to retain at once. You study until your eyes bleed. It’s one giant time-suck. There are days where all you do is eat, sleep, and breathe school. There’s no time for anything else. The clinical work just adds a whole other level of exhaustion. But if you love it, it’s worth it.”

Marti loved her job, and she enjoyed college, but it was hard for her to imagine that kind of passion and drive. It made her wonder if Logan gave the same kind of focused dedication to all aspects of his life, including women.

“So, your mother . . . I assume she’s the reason you went into obstetrics?”

Logan nodded. “I was pretty young when she died. Young enough to rebound without too many scars, but old enough to have memories of her, miss her, and feel the loss.”

“Why high-risk pregnancies and Hidden Heartbeat?”

Logan toyed with the stem of his glass, as if considering her question. “Beating the odds, knowing things are stacked against someone, yet through sheer will power, knowledge, medicine, and faith, I can help her deliver a healthy baby. . .” He shrugged. “That’s where the magic is, when I help someone with an impossible situation, and they come out on top. If another doctor tells a woman there’s no chance they’ll carry a pregnancy to term, I thrive on proving them wrong and defying the odds. When you hold that life in your hands, get to see an infant take its first breath, nothing is better.”

Marti appraised him. Did he have to be such a good guy? “A real-life miracle worker.”

He glanced down at his plate and toyed with his fork. “I don’t know about miracles. That’s not my territory. I leave that to God.” He glanced up at her again, and continued, “But I do everything in my power to ensure no life is lost, and it amazes me every day that people let me, that they trust me enough. If that trust were ever broken . . .” He trailed off, his gaze taking on a faraway look, and Marti sensed he was holding something back.

His humble answer surprised her. It didn’t jive with the same cocky man she met on night one. Then again, it seemed there were all kinds of layers to Logan Love. While he seemed to have her figured out, she sensed she could peel back a thousand layers of him and still not fully know the man inside.

The fleeting thought that she might want to know him settled in her gut like a stone.

“Has there ever been a mother or baby you couldn’t save?”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “One. I mean, I’ve had women with miscarriages. There have been a couple preemies unable to thrive. That’s always a possibility. But there was one . . .” Gone was his playful banter. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and the energy shifted.

Her chest pinched, warning her to retreat. She shifted her thoughts to her column. “You know, the media attention will only get worse the longer we keep up this charade. I’m not some huge Hollywood celebrity, so I don’t have paparazzi trolling my every move, but the media tend to hang at most of the events I attend—that we would need to attend together. And my column will have to change. I’ll be focusing on this.” She motioned between them. “I know you wanted this, but if there’s any doubt whether you want to be in the spotlight or not, now’s the time to back out. Because writing about us will put a floodlight on your life, personal and professional.”

“Why does it sound like you’re trying to get me to back out?”

She cocked her head. “I’m just giving you a dose of reality.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about me, McBride. I’m a big boy. I can handle myself.”

“As long as we’re on the same page. Our goal is to put on a show, convince everyone we’re together, and nothing more.”

“I’m pretty clear on the logistics. Worried about falling for me so soon?” He assessed her coolly.

“Not hardly.”

He leaned across the table. “Not even a little bit?” he whispered.

Marti swallowed. His eyes were vast, dark, and green like a woodland forest. A woman could get lost in those eyes.

She unlocked her eyes from his. “Not in the slightest.”

He leaned back against his seat. “Are you concerned with what this will do for your column?”

“No.”

“Isn’t your whole platform based on how amazing the single life is? How will you be able to spin this?”

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