The Daddy P.I. Casefiles: The First Collection, Frost, J [famous ebook reader TXT] 📗

I bulked up.” He leans over the table and flexes his shoulders for me. I put my hands over my mouth to stifle a giggle. “Tell you something, though. Places you don’t want to be for six months at a time? Stuck in a pressurized tin can with a bunch of two-hundred-pound guys on high protein diets.”

Is he making a Deadpool reference? Whether or not he is, it’s funny. I giggle out loud. I glance around to see if anyone’s noticed, but the noise must have been lost in the restaurant’s hum and buzz, because no one even glances at me.

“Most people think subs are nuclear powered.” He shakes his head. “We never had to turn the reactor on. Purely natural propulsion.”

“Gas power?” I ask, giggling helplessly.

He grins. “I’ve got lots of embarrassing stories, too.”

“Involving natural gas?”

“And other bodily functions. You get to know everyone’s digestive systems extremely well after living with them for six months at close quarters.”

“Gross,” I say, but I’m still giggling at the thought. “Did you like the Navy?”

Logan nods. “The sense of being part of a team, working towards a common goal. One of the officers I served under? Finest man I’ve ever known. More of a father to me than my own. I’ve stayed tight with some of the guys I served with, even though most of us are out now. That’s where I know Manny from. And I got to see a heck of a lot of the world. But the bureaucratic bullshit got in the way of everything, and budget cuts are strangling the military. I prefer the private sector.”

“So, you work for yourself now?”

“Uh-huh. Manny’s my partner, but it’s informal since he has a lot of his own bodyguarding work, and there’s another guy I pull in when I need an I.T. specialist, but mainly it’s just me. I’m self-employed, like you. Only I get out of my pajamas more often.”

I stick my tongue out at him.

He shakes his head at me. “You are going to pay for that cheek, little girl.”

“Yes, Daddy,” I say softly, and watch that wolfy grin light his face before he takes another sip of wine.

We eat in silence for a minute while I mull through what I’ve learned about Logan. I love how easily he makes me laugh. He has none of Rick’s ego, and he’s set my mind at ease about why he works for a porn star. I’m very curious about his job. He sounds like Magnum P.I.

“Do you still work on boats?” I ask. “I mean, is that why you’re going on the cruise?”

“No.” He chuckles. “This is my first cruise. I’ve got a reputation within the lifestyle. That’s where most of my clients come from. This time it happens to be a cruise company. Last month it was a chain of sex clubs in Texas. March, it was a dungeon in Edinburgh—”

“Which one?” I ask. Although I’ve been to Edinburgh several dozen times and have a share in an apartment there, I only know of one dungeon. Well, one kinky dungeon. There are plenty of actual dungeons in Edinburgh.

“I can’t disclose my clients. Sorry. Rick and the cruise line have given me waivers for you, but in general, I’m not going be able to tell you who I’m working for.”

“Oh.” I look down at my few remaining tortellini, feeling squashed. Of course he has to keep his clients confidential. That’s what a P.I. does, right? Still, it stings.

“Hey,” he says softly. I look up at him and find his eyes warm and gentle. “If things go well, we’ll figure something out. Mir was my contractor as well as my sub. She signed a non-disclosure and then I was able to talk freely with her. If it’s something you’d like, maybe after the cruise, we could do something similar.”

“So you do want me to sign a non-disclosure agreement,” I say coyly, feeling the glow that his warm stare gives me return.

“Yeah, I just don’t have it on my phone.”

I’m tempted to stick my tongue out at him again. Maybe when we know each other better I will. For now, it feels like too much “cheek,” and I don’t want him to think I’m being disrespectful, particularly not when we’re talking about his business.

“What happens when you catch the bad guy?” I ask. “Do you make a citizen’s arrest?”

Logan laughs, a sound that shoots right to my belly and tightens it around all the good food. “No. I turn over what I’ve got to the police and let them handle it.”

“You let them get your man?”

“Or woman. When they get them. Sometimes they don’t. The case isn’t strong enough or they can’t use what I’ve got. The police have to play by different rules. I get results. They have to worry about chain of custody, illegal search and seizure, hearsay. None of that’s an issue for me.”

“So sometimes they get away with it?”

Logan tips his hand from side to side, in a fifty-fifty gesture. He doesn’t talk much with his hands, I’ve noticed. His face is expressive, particularly those amazing eyes, but he doesn’t move the rest of his body. He doesn’t fidget. I get the sense of repose from him. Like a lion, he picks a position to watch from and doesn’t move until he’s ready to pounce.

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Not really. The important thing is to solve my client’s problem. That’s why they hire me. Yeah, it’s nice if justice is served, but that’s not really what I’m there for. I have to stay focused on what my client needs.”

Maybe that’s why he’s such a good Dom—and there’s no doubt in my mind that he is a good Dom—he can filter out all the noise and focus just on what he’s doing. I wish I could. My mind’s usually going in fifty directions at once. I’ve disciplined myself to finish novels, mostly because I need to pay my mortgages, but the rest of my life? It’s a buckshot approach to existence.