With Good Behavior (Conduct #1)

He had joined the Navy to get away from his family, and now they were using his military status against him. Grant felt sick. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.” Logan smiled encouragingly. Once they accomplished this robbery, Logan promised himself he would never involve Grant again. He would keep him safe from Carlo no matter what it took.

Suddenly, Logan realized it was almost pitch black at the beach around him. The sun had long ago descended below the horizon, and he could barely see his hand before his face.

Sighing heavily, he trudged through the sand toward the plantation hotel. Once he reached the sidewalk, he shook out his boots and brushed the sand off his jeans, wishing he could shake his memories of Sophie and Grant just as easily.

He had utterly failed at keeping Grant safe, and now that Grant had sacrificed his freedom by going to prison, Logan was determined not to fail again. Though he was still pursued by the police, he would have to return to Chicago and pay his debt. Logan would remain hidden no more.





14. Talking in Your Sleep


Continuing to serenade her softly with Frank Sinatra tunes, Grant leaned on Sophie’s shoulder as they slowly made their way up two flights of stairs in the brownstone apartment building.

Then, just outside Kirsten’s apartment door, Grant passed out. How could a man who appeared so lean be so heavy? Knowing muscle weighed more than fat, Sophie surmised that Grant must be pure muscle. He had been in the Navy after all.

Somehow managing to keep hold of him while simultaneously knocking and yelling for her roommate, Sophie was relieved when Kirsten finally threw open the door.

“Forgot your key, So—?”

She stopped her question midstream and gaped at Sophie struggling to hold up a dark-haired man who appeared to be melting into her.

“I need your help, Kir,” Sophie groaned.

Kirsten immediately tucked her neck under the man’s opposite shoulder, effectively sandwiching the hunk of meat between them.

“Thanks. Can you help me bring him inside?”

Bursting with curiosity about her unexpected guest, Kirsten replied, “Sure, let’s get him to the sofa.”

Sophie loved her roommate for jumping to help without one question asked. What a different reception she would have encountered on her father’s doorstep.

Carefully they plodded into the apartment, half pushing, half dragging the unconscious Grant.

Kirsten scrunched her nose. “He reeks!”

“Yeah, he had one too many tequila shots.”

Finally, they hauled him to the sofa and allowed him to plummet into the cushions with a thud. Sophie bent over to arrange him neatly on his side, huffing from the exertion of adjusting his dead weight. Once she stepped back, Kirsten admired his perfectly shaped head, tanned and flawless skin, long eyelashes, and plump lips.

“Who is he?” she demanded. Before Sophie could answer, Kirsten added, “Wait a minute. Did you finally take my advice and get yourself a boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” Sophie countered, glancing down at Grant. “At least not yet. I barely know him.”

“That’s got potential!” Kirsten grinned. Peering more closely at Grant, Kirsten wondered, “Do we need to take him to the ER?”

“His color is pretty good,” Sophie said, leaning down to grasp Grant’s hand in hers. “His breathing is okay, and his skin is not cold or clammy. I think he’ll be all right.”

“As long as we keep him on his side,” Kirsten finished. He appeared to be sleeping it off peacefully with a slight smile ghosting his striking features. “We should also keep an eye on him, which shouldn’t be too difficult.” Kirsten grinned. “He sure is easy on the eyes. How many drinks did he have?”

“I’m not sure,” Sophie shrugged. “This is my fault. He’d never had alcohol before, and I encouraged him to drink some tequila to calm his nerves.”

Kirsten gaped at her roommate. It was certainly out of character for Sophie to get a strange male teetotaler drunk. Had she changed in prison?

After they both stared wordlessly at the sleeping beauty for a few moments, Kirsten asked, “Okay, Taylor, are you going to tell me who this guy is, or do I have to beat it out of you?”

Sophie met her roommate’s inquisitive eyes. “You know that guy who got me the job yesterday? On the ship?”

“That’s him? Oh my God, you didn’t tell me how gorgeous he was! Why can’t I run into a yummy McSailor like him?”

Sophie chuckled. “McSailor is actually a great name for him. I just found out he used to be in the Navy. But don’t get too excited, Kir. Do you remember what else I told you about him?”

After a beat, Kirsten frowned. “He was in prison.”

Sophie nodded.

“What for?”

“I don’t know. We made a pact not to discuss our pasts.”

Kirsten absorbed this information, and her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “So, it’s possible that you brought a murderer into my apartment?”

Sophie was startled. She hadn’t considered this possibility. “He’s—he’s not a murderer,” she insisted.

“How do you know?”

“I just know, that’s all. He’s very sweet. You can’t see them now, but he’s got the kindest blue eyes—the most soulful, expressive eyes you’ve ever seen. And our boss said something about him saving a kid’s life. He can’t be a murderer.”

Kirsten remained skeptical, her arms folded across her chest.

“Don’t you trust my judgment?” Sophie implored. “You know me! I have a good intuition about people.”

“Uh-huh, and what exactly did your intuition tell you about Logan Barberi?”

The words escaped Kirsten’s mouth before she had a chance to think, and once she saw Sophie’s face crumple, she immediately regretted them. “Oh, Sophie, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Sophie turned away and slowly sat on the futon. “You’re absolutely right,” she said, looking at her feet. “I shouldn’t be trusted. My judgment is horrible. Now you’ve got two felons in your apartment. I’m probably going to drag you down with me.”

Kirsten knelt beside Sophie. “Would you please ignore what I just said? I’m an idiot. Of course I trust you, and I have faith in your judgment. You’re the smartest person I know. I would never have gotten through grad school without you. Who in the world finishes her dissertation in six months? You’re amazing.”

Sophie still looked heartbroken. Searching for the right words, Kirsten added, “You’re also the most compassionate person I know. Who else would have tried to help that nut job Elena get through school?”

This time Sophie grinned faintly, remembering their fellow counseling student Elena Roja, who had appeared mentally unstable and completely overwhelmed from the start. She’d been dismissed from the program after only one semester.

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