by Ella Frank
“Oh, shut it,” she grumbled, pulling a donut from the bag to take a huge bite. As she chewed the mouthful, she gave Logan a glazed grin full of mischief. “You’re in trouble.”
Figuring she didn’t deserve to have so much fun at his expense, Logan snatched the bag out of her hands and placed it behind his back. He got immense satisfaction when she gave a small growl of annoyance and then frowned at him.
“Give that back,” she managed around another bite.
“Not until you apologize for—”
“Taking delight in your impeding doom?”
Logan narrowed his eyes, and as she stepped aside and gave an impish grin, he asked, “Does Cole ever win with you?”
“Not if he’s smart.”
He leaned in and kissed the side of her head. Then he brought the bag back out and gave it to her. “Here. Take them now, or you may have to pry them from my cold, lifeless fingers once Cole’s done with me.”
She took them and rolled her eyes. “So dramatic.”
“Well, do you blame me?” Logan searched the hallway and then gazed back to Rachel. “How angry is he?”
The way she screwed her nose up and shrugged didn’t bode well for him. It had him wanting to tuck tail and run—something he never usually did.
“Okay. Where is he?”
She pointed to the second shut door on the left. “In the library.”
With a nod and a tight smile, he muttered, “Wish me luck.”
Before he got two steps away, he heard Rachel say his name. When Logan looked over his shoulder, she gave him a soft smile that made him think what a wonderful mother she was soon going to be.
“You won’t need luck. He’s upset because he cares. We both do. You deserve so much better than whatever Chris gave you. And now, you have it with Tate.”
He swallowed and wondered if she was right. Did he deserve better than Chris? Do I deserve Tate?
He certainly hadn’t been an angel, and he was the first to acknowledge that he hadn’t walked away from Chris when he should have. He’d stayed and allowed years of meaningless nights push him to one night he would do anything to forget.
He couldn’t find any words for her in that moment, so he gave her a nod and pushed the door to his brother’s library open.
When he stepped inside, he expected to see Cole as he usually was—behind his desk, working on his computer. Instead, he had a phone to his ear and his back turned toward him. So Logan wandered over to the wall lined with books from floor to ceiling, pretending to take great interest in them, all the while thinking back to Tate’s refusal to move in with him.
He said that he can’t move in with me, but why? Because of this thing with Chris?
Logan pulled his phone out and opened up a new message. He decided to remind Tate that he hadn’t forgotten what they’d been talking about, and it would only be a matter of time before the topic was once again under discussion.
He wanted Tate in his house, his bed, and his life twenty-four-seven. And if it took him hours of conversation and weeks of constant reminders as to why living with him was an amazing fucking idea, then that’s exactly what he would give him.
* * *
Tate stood in front of his mirror and tied his black work tie. He needed to be out the door in the next five minutes if he wanted to make it on time. He’d landed double shifts for the next two weekends after both he and Logan had traded with Amelia for his days off. So that basically meant he had no life for the foreseeable future. At least, not one that took place on the weekend.
He tightened the knot at the base of his throat before smoothing a hand down the front of the narrow material and raising it to tuck the thinner strip into his white shirt. Shrugging into his black vest with the words After Hours embroidered on the pocket, he was reminded of his first day on the job at the upscale bar.
The day I met Logan. The day that forever changed his life.
Tate could remember every single detail from that first meeting. From the confused way he’d felt and responded, to exactly what Logan had been wearing. It was unbelievable to think back now and realize that, in that precise moment, he’d met the one person who would turn out to be the most essential in his life.
Who would’ve guessed it? Two people from totally different walks of life colliding and having that one moment.
There was a buzzing on his bathroom sink, and he glanced down to see a text from the man himself.
Logan: I’m here. If I don’t make it out alive, I love you. If I do, you & I have something to discuss.
With a grin, Tate grabbed his cell phone and typed: So it takes the fear of death for a proclamation of love in writing from Logan Mitchell? That’s good to know. I love you too. And let it go, would you? You’re like a dog with a bone.
He shoved it in his back pocket and made his way out of his room, flicking the lights off as he went. Grabbing his helmet and jacket, he walked down the hall to the front door and snagged his keys from the side table before heading out. When he got to the elevator, the phone vibrated again. He reached into his pocket, fished it out, and chuckled at the message.
Logan: No…it doesn’t take the fear of death. But thanks for the reassurance of my safety right now. Did you really just use the word ‘proclamation’ at ten in the morning?
Stepping inside the elevator, Tate pressed the button for the parking garage and then leaned back against the wall typing: It’s 10:13, and yes, I did. I do know some big words, Mr. Fancy Lawyer. I can even spell them.
When the elevator reached the bottom floor and the doors slid open, Tate wandered out into the cool morning air and walked across the lot to where his motorcycle was parked. He got on and settled in the seat before he brought the phone up to check the text, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face.
Logan: Now that’s something we should further explore. Can you also spell while distracted? This fancy lawyer wants to know how good you would be at taking down his dic-tation. You know, in case of emergencies.
That smartass mouth of Logan’s would get him every time. There was something so insanely sexy about his quick wit and smirking face, and Tate could picture him saying those exact words to him.
Chalk that up as another thing he loved about the guy. Anything Logan wrote down or insinuated, he sure as hell wouldn’t have trouble saying to your face. And that made Tate want to kiss those arrogant lips until Logan was groaning.
Since that option wasn’t available right this second, Tate decided that teasing him would be just as much fun.
Am I being interviewed for a specific position I don’t know about?
After he put his helmet on, he turned the key in the ignition and felt his phone buzz.
Logan: While there are many positions I’m sure you’d qualify for, I think I’ve narrowed it down. I’m after a very private and discreet PA. But I need a few more details before I invite you to my office for a sit-down-get-to-know-you interview.
Tate pressed a hand against the erection he was now sporting. Fucking hell. He could just imagine what an interview with Logan would be like. Torture. Thirty minutes of cock-pounding torture.
Logan in one of those immaculate three-piece suits he wore like a second skin. That coal-black hair styled perfectly, and his strong chiseled jaw. Add in those sexy-as-hell glasses that framed his blue eyes and hell—maybe he should go pay him a visit on his dinner break this evening.
Before he started the engine, he quickly text back: Gonna be late for current job. Text me where I should meet you for this sit-in-your-lap deal or let me go so I’m still gainfully employed, SIR.
* * *
Logan felt his cock stiffen at that final word typed in all caps.
Fuck. He wanted to hear that on Tate’s tongue in person. He’d never been one to get off on role-playing before, but—
“Logan?” Cole’s voice broke through his thoughts as effectively as a bucket of ice water.
Well, shit. Time to face the music.
&nbs
p; Maybe, if he survived, he could convince Tate to come and—
“Hey,” Cole said.
Logan turned to see him standing behind his desk with his arms crossed. His blond hair was sticking up in messy spikes where he’d run his fingers through it. Probably in annoyance at me.
“Want to maybe pull up a chair and tell me about this little fucking surprise Christopher Walker dropped in my lap last night?”
Not really…
“That wasn’t a question,” Cole informed him as though he could read his mind. “Sit down. Now.”
Cole’s tone left little choice but to do as he’d said, and Logan knew better than to argue with him when he was in one of his moods. So he sat.
Since he wasn’t sure what Chris had spilled the night before, Logan remained silent as Cole glared at him, and suddenly, he found himself grinning.
“What on Earth could you possibly find amusing right now?”
Logan stuffed his hands into his pockets and slumped down into the chair. “You’re acting very much like a father right now, about to send me to my room. And just earlier, I was thinking how motherly Rachel looked. This whole pregnancy is really bringing out the best in you guys.” A chuckle escaped him as Cole’s eyebrows practically hit his hairline. “What? You do. Not that I’d know. It’s not like ours ever bothered with me.”
Cole pulled his chair out and sat, appearing to think over his next words carefully. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Logan spoke up again.
“Please don’t give me some speech about how I didn’t miss much. This I already know. But I bet he used to look just like you when he was mad, all scary and shit. He had your hair color and my eyes. I’ve seen pictures. Mom used to try to be strict with me, but really, with this face?” he said, pointing to himself as he gave his most charming smile. “She always crumbled. A bit flaky, she was.”
Once he finally stopped talking, Cole sat back in his chair and asked, “You done?”
Logan made a show of clamping his mouth shut and waited for Cole to continue.
“Jesus. When you’re nervous, you don’t know how to be quiet. It’s been so long since I’ve seen that side of you I forgot it even existed. Nice to know that that geeky school kid with the skinny legs, big glasses, and shaggy hair is still lurking in there under all of that sophisticated arrogance.”
“Oh, fuck off. Like you’re one to talk,” Logan retorted, but he appreciated that Cole was trying to ease the tension in the room.
He really didn’t want to get into this. Not with Cole—the one person who’d known him since he was a teen. The one person who’d witnessed the way Chris had treated him back in college. How could he admit to him that he’d…what? Gone back for more as an adult? For years?
God, he was disgusted with himself.
“So, you want to go first?” Cole asked.
Logan’s brow winged up, and he asked, “What is this, show-and-tell? Just ask what you want to ask and get it the fuck over with.”
Cole regarded him as if he were deciding where to start, and then he asked something Logan hadn’t expected.
“Does Tate know everything that happened with Chris? Or just the parts you decided to tell him?”
Typical fucking lawyer, went straight for the jugular.
“He knows everything.”
Logan couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a flash of hurt behind the shock that entered Cole’s eyes.
Cole’s jaw bunched. “So, it’s just me who was left in the dark?”
Logan wondered how long he had until the temper that was rising in his brother exploded. Deciding he should just lay it all out on the table, he offered up the details before Cole asked for them.
“I told him about Chris when we were up at the cabin.”
The hazel eyes drilling him appeared hard as stone, and Cole looked just as unmoving. But what was most disconcerting was that he still hadn’t revealed what Chris had told him.
“How nice,” Cole said, but his voice certainly didn’t match his opinion. “Did it ever occur to you when you found out that Chris would be at the function that it might be a good time to tell me you, oh, I don’t know, had a fucking affair with him for two years?”
Shit. He’d figured Cole had known it all, but he wasn’t sure he believed it since…well, how did Chris even bring that up?
“Logan?”
“What?” he snapped, growing more irritable by the second.
“Please tell me he was lying. Trying to piss me off for punching him all those years ago.”
He wished he could tell Cole that that was the case, but as he sat there staring his brother head on, it became apparent he was not going to refute the claim.
“Fucking hell, Logan. When did you even see him? Why would you… You know what? That isn’t important right now.”
Logan offered no words. Now wasn’t the time to apologize, and it certainly wasn’t the time for a joke, so he figured his best course of action was silence because there was no way Cole was done with him yet.
“I need to know if working with them, him, is going to be a problem? LPCW Architecture would be a huge account. You aren’t stupid.” Cole paused for a moment as if he wanted to tack something on after that claim, but then, he kept going. “You know how much revenue this would bring in. But if you aren’t comfortable working with Chris—”
“I’m fine,” Logan said, cutting him off.
“If you’re not, that would be understandable.”
“I said I was fine, and I am,” Logan stressed.
“Is Tate?”
The room fell silent as the question lingered between them, and Logan was appalled to realize he hadn’t even considered that.
“Well?” Cole pushed. “Is he?”
Good fucking question…
Logan stood as if the seat were on fire, making it rock back. Then he pulled the phone out of his pocket and looked at the blank screen. Tate hadn’t said that he was upset about him working with Chris…but would he be?
“I have to go.”
“Logan, I’m not done talking to you.”
“Too bad,” he said, his tone clipped as he stepped around the chair and walked to the door. When he got there, he reached for the handle and turned back to see Cole frowning at him. “The CliffsNotes are: I met up with him a few years back, we, as you so bluntly put it, had an affair for two years, and then it ended. That’s it. Nothing more and nothing less.”
Cole stood and shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants, a look Logan despised entering his eyes—pity. “I don’t need to know the details, Logan. This isn’t college, and you aren’t a kid anymore. But…”
Logan swallowed, not really wanting to hear anything else.
“Be careful. Firsts are always hard to forget and, as you already seem to know, the hardest to walk away from. You have something real with Tate, one might even say something of the forever kind.”
Logan bit back the urge to tell Cole to butt the hell out, but as usual, he resorted to his normal ammo—sarcasm. “Thanks for that, Doctor. How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing right now, smartass. But I swear, if I don’t think this is doing us as a whole any good, I’m terminating their contract. No matter how much money they bring in. It’s not worth it to my family. Remember that.”
Logan lifted his chin and locked eyes with Cole as he felt his own temper finally snap. “You need to trust me. When we first pooled our money from our illustrious father together, we decided it was us against the world. Especially dear old dad. Since then, we’ve proven that we could each be successful in our own right and built one of the most reputable law practices in town. I would never jeopardize you, Rachel, or your baby. You’re my family, and so is Tate. And I’ll be damned if I screw that up for Christopher Walker. I won’t screw that up for anybody. You remember that.”
And before Cole could offer a response, Logan walked out the door.
Chapter Four
It was late when
Tate rode his motorcycle into the parking garage and shut the engine off. Saturday nights at After Hours were always busy, but tonight, it had been even more so. They’d been slammed from the moment he’d walked in until he’d clocked out, no doubt due to the cold front that had rolled in. It always brought the customers by, reminding them that the snow-filled winter was just around the corner.
With his helmet tucked under his arm, he made his way up to his floor and stifled a yawn as he wandered down the hall. God, he couldn’t wait to get into bed. He was beat.
He was almost at his place when he spotted Logan seated on the carpeted floor with his back pressed against the locked door. He had his knees drawn up to his chest and his arms resting on them as he twirled his cell phone in his hand. He’d been home, as he was now dressed in jeans and a black, lightweight sweater, but the fact that he was sitting on the floor had Tate asking as he stopped beside him, “Did you get lost on your way home?”
Tate stretched out a hand toward him as Logan tilted his head up so he could look at him from behind his glasses. Without a word, he reached for it and got to his feet.
“No. I’m exactly where I want to be. I missed you today.”
When they were both standing, Tate gave him a crooked smile and then lowered his eyes to the phone in Logan’s hand.
“Yeah, sorry I didn’t text much. We were busy as hell. I barely had time to breathe.”
It was nearly two, and he’d been planning to call Logan first thing in the morning to set up a time for their Sunday pizza night. But this? This was a much better way to discuss getting together.
“It’s late,” he told him as he tugged Logan closer. “Couldn’t wait to see me, huh?”
Logan kissed his lips, and his cock twitched when he whispered, “Maybe I just wanted to see this uniform of yours. I don’t know what it is about it but…”
“Yeah?” Tate encouraged, knowing full well that Logan had a “thing” for his After Hours attire.