Logan's eyes darkened—this woman was clearly on a whole other wavelength. What the—was she actually taking photos?
"Dr. York, check out how perfect this shot is! They look absolutely stunning together, no filter needed," Moanna whispered, her voice hushed as she shoved her phone toward him. The sudden closeness—like an overeager puppy—made Logan stiffen. Did personal space mean nothing to her?
He planted his palm against her forehead, pushing her back to a safe distance. The scene was straight out of a romance novel, so picture-perfect it almost hurt to look at—not that he'd ever admit that out loud.
"Hey! Rude!" Moanna protested, cheeks puffing like a chipmunk.
Meanwhile, Tracy's tears had dried from sheer shock at Gordon's actions. Her eyes, still rimmed red from crying, carried that
