Callie hastily averted her gaze from his powerful physique. ‘Here, let me,’ she held out her arms for the jacket. ‘I’ll hang it up.’
‘Thanks,’ he handed the jacket over.
His hand touched hers as she took the jacket, and Callie moved hastily away, blushing as she saw his frowning puzzlement.
They ate in silence; Logan had bought a bottle of wine to accompany their meal. Callie had to smile; she was sure this was the last way Logan had intended spending the evening.
‘Care to let me in on the joke?’
She looked up to find that Logan had finished his meal and was now relaxing back in his chair, watching her intently. She bit her lip. ‘It wasn’t really a joke,’ she said awkwardly.
‘Oh?’
She blushed. ‘I—I was just wondering when you last spent an evening like this.’
He stiffened. ‘I don’t spend all my life eating in expensive restaurants.’
Her amusement had annoyed him, she could tell that. ‘I’m sorry, I—Paul!’ she exclaimed in dismay as the baby let out an agonised yell. ‘Excuse me,’ and she hurried from the room.
The little boy was standing up in his cot crying for all he was worth, his cherubic face creased up as the tears flowed freely.
‘It’s all right, darling,’ Callie soothed as she plucked him up into her arms, a tiny nappy-clad figure in a pair of navy blue pyjamas, his blond curls ruffled into disorder.
He didn’t seem to want to stop crying, not even after she had changed his nappy and applied the soothing cream to his gums. He just kept screaming, his breath coming in short gasping sobs, and she was beginning to panic when Logan opened the nursery door.
‘What’s wrong?’ he frowned, looking totally out of place in this baby-orientated room.
Callie gave him an angry glare. ‘Well, if I knew that—’
‘Okay, okay,’ he cut her off tersely. ‘So you don’t know what’s wrong with him?’
‘No,’ she snapped resentfully.
‘Give him to me,’ Logan instructed.
Her arms tightened protectively about the soft, cuddly body. ‘He doesn’t usually take to strangers.’
He sighed his impatience. ‘I’m not going to hurt him.’
‘I didn’t think you were!’
‘Then hand him over,’ he said abruptly, his jaw rigid.
To her surprise Paul stopped crying as soon as he was in Logan’s arms, his little arms going about the man’s neck, his head flopping down tiredly on his shoulder.
‘His teething cream will stain your shirt,’ Callie whispered worriedly.
‘I’ll cry about it later,’ he taunted.
A lump caught in her throat at the trusting way Paul was watching Logan with his big blue eyes. There was a saying about not being able to fool animals and children about a person’s nature, and Paul obviously trusted Logan implicitly.
Logan was talking to the baby soothingly now—although what he was saying made Callie blush. ‘So you’re the one keeping Callie awake at night, hmm? I must admit I’d prefer more mature competition.’
‘Logan!’ she said warningly.
He chuckled softly. ‘You know he doesn’t understand a word.’
‘No, but I do,’ she blushed.