thank you.”
“Are you sure?” Logan asked. “You wouldn’t like one more round?”
She was sorely tempted, but too sensible to give in. “I’m driving, remember?”
“I could drive you home if you change your mind.”
“That would be too much trouble,” she said, knowing that if he came anywhere near her empty house, she might make a colossal mistake.
“It’s not a problem.”
It could be if she didn’t proceed with caution. “I’m fine for now. But thanks.”
Once the waitress left, Hannah opted for a subject change. “Now that you know quite a bit about me, what about you?”
He pushed his empty coffee cup aside. “What do you want to know?”
Plenty. “I saw on your profile you’re single. Have you ever been married?”
His expression went suddenly somber. “Once. I’ve been divorced for eight years.”
She couldn’t imagine a man of his caliber remaining unattached all that time. “Any relationships since?”
“Nothing serious.”
She tapped her chin and pretended to think. “Let me guess. You have a woman in every court.”
His smile returned, but only halfway. “Not even close. I work a lot of hours so I don’t have much time for a social life.”
“Did you take a vow of celibacy?” Heaven help her, the vodka had completely destroyed her verbal filter.
When the waitress returned with the cola, Logan pulled out his wallet and handed her a platinum card to close out the tab, or so Hannah assumed. “Keep it open for the time being,” he said, shattering her assumptions.
Once the waitress retreated, Hannah attempted to backtrack. “Forget I asked that last question. It’s really none of my business.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I’ve had a few relationships based solely on convenience. What about you?”
He’d presented a good case of turnabout being fair play, but she simply had little to tell when it came to the dating game. “Like you, I haven’t had time to seriously consider the social scene. I have had a couple of coffee dates in the past year, but they were disastrous. One guy still lived at his mother’s house in the basement, and the other’s only goal was to stay in school as long as possible. He already had three graduate degrees.”
“Apparently the last guy was fairly smart,” he said.
“True, but both made it quite clear they weren’t particularly fond of children, and that’s a deal breaker. Not to mention I’m not going to subject my child to a man unless he’s earned my trust.”
He traced the rim of the glass with his thumb. “It’s logical that you would have major concerns in that department.”
“Very true. And I have to admit I’m fairly protective of her. Some might even say overprotective.” Including her best friend, Gina.
Logan downed the last of his drink and set it aside. “I’m not sure there is such a thing in this day and time.”
“But I’ve been known to take it to extremes. I’ve even considered encasing her in bubble wrap every day before I send her off to school.”
Her attempt at humor seemed to fall flat for Logan. “You really can’t protect them from everything, and that’s a damn shame.”
His solemn tone spurred Hannah’s curiosity. “Do you have children from your previous marriage?”
He momentarily looked away. “No.”
Definitely a story there. “Was that a mutual decision between you and your wife?” Realizing she’d become the ultimate Nosy Nellie, she raised her hands, palms forward. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally this intrusive.”
“My wife was an attorney, too,” he continued, as if her prying didn’t bother him. “Having kids wasn’t in the cards for us, and that was probably just as well.”
“How long were you married?”
“A little over seven years.”
She started to ask if he’d been plagued with the legendary itch but didn’t want to destroy her honorable-man image. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m sure the divorce process can be tough.”
“Ours was pretty contentious. But it wasn’t anything compared to losing someone to death.”
He almost sounded as if he’d had experience with that as well. “They’re both losses, and they both require navigating the grief process. I was somewhat lucky in that respect. I had Cassie to see me through the rough times.”
“How old was she when your husband died?” he asked.
“I was five months pregnant, so he never saw her.” She was somewhat amazed she’d gotten through that revelation without falling apart. Maybe her grief cycle was finally nearing completion.
“At least you were left with a part of him,” Logan said gruffly. “I assume that did provide some consolation.”
A good-looking and intuitive man, a rare combination in Hannah’s limited experience. “I’m very surprised by your accurate perception, Mr. Whittaker. Most of the time people look at me with pity when they learn the details. I appreciate their sympathy, but I’m not a lost cause.”
“It’s Logan,” he told her. “And you’re not remotely a lost cause or someone who deserves pity. You deserve respect and congratulations for moving on with your life, Hannah.”
Somewhat self-conscious over the compliment, and oddly excited over hearing her name on his lips, she began to fold the corner of the cocktail napkin back and forth. “Believe me, the first two years weren’t pretty. I cried a lot and I had a few serious bouts of self-pity. But then Cassie would reach a milestone, like her first steps and the first time she said ‘Mama,’ and I realized I had to be strong for her. I began to look at every day as a chance for new opportunities. A new beginning, so to speak.”
The waitress came back to the table and eyed Hannah’s empty glass. “Sure I can’t get you another?”
She glanced at the clock hanging over the bar and after noticing it was nearly 10:00 p.m., she couldn’t believe how quickly the time had flown by. “Actually, it’s getting late. I should probably be going.”
“It’s not that late,” Logan said. “Like I told you before, I’ll make sure you get home safely if you want to live a little and have another vodka and tonic.”
Hannah mulled over the offer for a few moments. Her daughter was at a sleepover, she had no desire to watch TV, and she was in the company of a very attractive and attentive man who promised to keep her safe. What would be the harm in having one more drink?
*
