Thursday. Washington, DC.
LOGAN GRIPPED THE HANDRAIL overhead tighter as the floor shuddered and the train turned. Kelsey's slight body rocked back against his as the train shifted. He'd mistakenly thought accompanying her home was a good idea. Gentlemanly, even.
Clearly it was torture. She wasn't even doing it purposefully, which was worse. Despite the normal crowds, the train was still packed for the evening commute. Kelsey had refused a seat twice now and wouldn't allow him to give her a hand.
Why did she have to be so stubborn?
To make matters worse, Logan had to insert himself between Kelsey and some creep who'd been getting too close to her backside. Unfortunately, that now meant he was close enough that she swayed against him from time to time and that was pure torture.
The floral aroma of the bouquet wafted past him. He grit his teeth against the surge of jealousy.
Who the hell was sending her flowers? And why didn't he know about it?