Crazy for Her

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Book: Crazy for Her Read Online Free PDF
Author: Sandra Owens
Tags: Fiction, Suspense, Romance, Contemporary
was off-limits back into his brain and lower regions.

    Dani noted the change in his mood and wondered at it. She stood and walked past him, stopping at the door. “Why don’t you get settled in while I start dinner? You can show me your toys later.”
    Evan had been a meat-and-potatoes man, but like Dani, Logan loved to experience all kinds of food. When the three of them had hung out together, she and Logan often teased Evan about his refusal to try a new dish. “I already know what I like, so why should I order something I’ll probably hate?” was his standard reply. It was rare that they could even tempt him to taste one of their meals.
    Cooking was her hobby, something she did whenever she came up against a wall when she wrote. Puttering around in the kitchen helped her think. Usually, by the time dinner was ready, she’d solved whatever plot issues were bedeviling her and had twice benefited—a great meal and the next scene for her story bubbling in her head.
    Long used to enjoying her creations alone, she was excited to have someone to share them with. Tonight, she’d decided on steak Diane, loaded twice-baked potatoes, and spinach salad. Not that she wanted to impress Logan—it was one of her favorite meals.
    Right, Dani, you went to all this work just for yourself.
    Okay, so she wanted to show off a little. All the prep work had been finished before Logan arrived, so all she had to do was flambé the steaks, microwave the potatoes, and heat the dressing for the salad.
    The dining room seemed too formal, so she set the table in the kitchen and debated whether to light any candles. Afraid it would send the wrong signal, she instead slightly dimmed the lights. Surveying the effect, she gave a little nod of satisfaction. Perfect. Not too dim to make it seem romantic but enough to take the brightness away.
    Hearing Logan’s approach, she poured a glass of wine and handed it to him when he entered the kitchen. “I think you’ll like this. It’s a Cabernet called Antler Hill from the Biltmore Estate here in Asheville.”
    He swirled the wine, sniffed it, and then took a sip and deemed it excellent. Evan had once told her that as a child, Logan had grown up dirt poor and neglected. Surprised at how knowledgeable he was of wines and fine foods, she’d found herself observing him whenever he hung out with them.
    Though he was a warrior through and through, there was also something of a Renaissance man in him. His contradictions had so fascinated her, she’d used him as the model for the hero in one of her books. Evan had been amused when she’d told him, but she would die if Logan ever learned of it.
    Dani made herself a soda water with lime, her favorite nonalcoholic drink aside from her hot green teas. After turning on the gas burner, she leaned back against the counter to wait for the pan to get hot.
    Logan stood in the middle of the room sipping his wine, his eyes focused on her. Until he walked in, the kitchen had seemed spacious to Dani. Now she wasn’t sure she had room to breathe.
    When she’d first met the two SEALs, Logan had been the one to catch her interest, but he had faded into the background, allowing Evan to take center stage. And who wouldn’t adore Evan?
    No other man had filled her life with laughter the way her husband had. She even missed his silly jokes. Missed the way his hands felt on her body, missed his scent. Her big bear of a loving husband had won her heart, and her initial interest in his friend vanished. Now Evan was gone, and the man who had intrigued her for so long stood in her kitchen.
    Dani wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
    She waved a hand toward a chair. “Have a seat and watch magic happen.”
    The phone rang and she froze, her heart beating a wild tattoo in her chest. Logan set his wine on the table, came to her, and took the glass out of her hand. Pushing a button on the phone, he handed it to her.
    She took a deep breath.
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