“All right.” Lucy shouldered her way to my side and made a waving motion as if they were annoying flies. “Shoo!” She narrowed her eyes. “I said shoo.”
They dispersed, mostly startled into moving. Only Logan remained, leaning casually against the wall.
“Darling, I’m not some insect to be chased away.”
“Darling?” She snorted amiably. “You’re not ninety years old, either.”
He straightened. “I’m charming,” he informed her. “And women like endearments.”