Page 126 of Sapphire Sunset

“What time should I be ready, Logan?” Connor asked.

Logan checked the time on his phone. “Meet me in the motorcourt at four o’clock. Dress casual.”

“What kind of date will we have in themotor court?”Connor asked.

“We’re going toleave, Connor. We’re not having ourfirst official date at Sapphire Cove. I have a full security staff for thefirst time in days. Thirty percent of the evacuees went back to their homestoday. We can take a night off.”

“Oh,” Connor said.

“Hear, hear,” Janice said, raising her wine glass. “We couldall use a break from Sapphire Cove right now.”

Connor seemed to be struggling with the thought, as if theidea of leaving the hotel for an extended period of time was on par with eatingdessert before your entrée came. “Okay. What do you mean by dress casual?” hefinally asked.

“Exactly what I said.”

“No, no, no. See, you want to have a first date? This isanother first-date thing. Guys say, ‘Wear whatever you want,’ and thensurprise, you’re going clam digging. Or they say ‘dress casual’ and you end upat a restaurant where the women are in evening gowns and he’s in a blazer.”

“I’m starting to see why this has taken so long,” Janicesaid.

“Comfortable shoes,” Logan said.

“Comfortable shoes,” Connor repeated.

Connor smiled. Logan felt his own smile hurting his cheeks.

“I’m nervous,” Connor said.

“Why?”

“It’s our first date,” Connor answered, then he reachedunder the table and squeezed Logan’s knee in a way that made shivers dance uphis spine.

His shirt with Michelangelo’sThe Creationof Adamprinted on it wouldn’t meet Logan’s definition of casual, Connorthought, even if it was, technically, a band-collar tee.

So Connor opted for a light blue polo, some basic Dieseljeans, and an old pair of Skechers he was sometimes able to walk around New Yorkin without his feet feeling knifed the next day. He hadn’t packed any tennis shoes.If the date involved a trip to the mall, maybe he’d grab some.

His dressed-down appearance was such a dramatic change fromthe blazers and dress shirts he’d worn since his arrival, the doormen and valetsdidn’t recognize him when he stepped into the motor court. One of the doormenasked him if he needed assistance, then, upon realizing it was Connor, hesurveyed him from head to toe. “Are you all right, Mr. Harcourt?” he asked asif he thought Connor had mistaken his Vicodin for aspirin and accidentallydressed casual in an opiate-induced fugue.

A few minutes later, a cherry red pick-up truck pulled intothe motor court, sparkling from a fresh wash, with one of the most beautifulmen Connor had ever seen behind the wheel.

Connor had just gripped the door handle when Logan droppeddown from the driver’s side, hurried around the nose of the truck, and openedConnor’s door for him.

“Wow. So old fashioned,” Connor said. “On a first date?”

“Yep. My father set a good example.”

“Really?” Connor asked.

“Yeah. So basically I do exactly the opposite of everythinghe’d do.”

Logan waited until Connor’s arm was clear, then he closed thedoor, addressing Connor through the window he’d left open. “Like right now,he’d probably hand you a bag full of Burger King and ask you which parking lotyou wanted to have sex in.”

“Well, if that’s how we got little Logan.”

“Who you calling little?” Logan asked.

“Nobody. All right, stud. Let’s go clam digging.”

There was no sign of the media as they pulled away, butthere were plenty of curious looks from the doormen. As they snaked down thehill, Connor was so busy enjoying the feeling of slipping free of the hotelthat he jumped when he felt something rustle against his arm. His first thoughtwas,Uh oh. He brought a dog.

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