by Ella Frank
“Robbie?” Logan said.
Robbie’s eyes found Logan’s, and Tate knew what he was feeling. Poor kid. Logan was…potent.
“Can we have a double espresso and an extra nutty hazelnut latte?”
Tate turned his head in Logan’s direction, surprised that he remembered his drink. Then he saw a smirk hit his lips.
“My guy likes nuts.”
I’m going to kill him, Tate thought right before Robbie opened his mouth and made his murderous intentions shift to him.
“Then he’s got the perfect set to play with.”
Tate faced the punk who was laughing at him across the table. Then, calm as you please, Logan announced, “All right, Robbie. Time to leave.”
He got out of the booth and placed Logan’s jacket across the seat, but before he left, he looked them over once more. With the way Tate was glowering at him, he was surprised Robbie was still upright.
“It’s both, right? I can’t imagine someone as grumpy as you always receiving.”
“Robbie,” Logan growled.
Then Tate shocked the hell out of himself. “With Logan, I’d take it any way he wanted.”
“Holy shit, Tate,” Logan muttered, and Tate was more than satisfied with the longing look that came over Robbie’s face.
That’s right, Tate thought. No one will ever doubt who Logan is to me.
“Coffee would be great right about now,” Tate told him, feeling quite satisfied with himself. “Thanks.”
Robbie huffed and then walked away.
Tate believed that ninety percent of the guy was fun and games and the other ten percent had a massive crush on Logan.
He turned in the booth and realized that he couldn’t really blame Robbie. Logan was…Logan. If he’d had him once and then never again, he’d probably act the same way Robbie did.
Then Tate remembered why he was there, and suddenly, his confidence took a nosedive. He frowned when Logan turned to him, and when he placed an arm along the back of the booth, Tate told him, “Spit it out.”
Logan blinked at the command. Then his fingers touched the collar of his T-shirt.
“Logan, spit it out. I’ve been a fucking nutcase all morning.”
The slight quirk of Logan’s mouth irritated him.
“Do not joke about nuts again or I will kick you in your ‘perfect’ ones.”
When he added the air quotes, Logan started laughing. “You really do get kind of grumpy.”
“With you? Who wouldn’t? You woke me up then told me we needed to talk. Today. But not over the phone. In person.” Tate paused and then shoved his face in close to Logan’s. “You’re enough to make anyone grumpy.”
Logan’s blue gaze remained on his as he said softly, “That’s not very nice.”
“I’m not feeling very nice. I’m feeling fucking paranoid, and I hate that. What’s going on?”
Logan reached up and touched his fingers to his cheek before he pulled him in and kissed him hard on the mouth.
“It’s about the function on Friday.”
Tate’s mind starting racing. “Okay. Did you need me to stay home?”
“No,” Logan said quickly and then sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this.”
“Then just fucking say it,” Tate finally demanded, his patience gone, and Logan did as he’d asked—and said it.
“Chris will be there.”
29.
Logan sat in Tate’s living room and waited.
He couldn't have said why his palms were sweaty, but they were.
Tonight was a big deal in the course of their future and relationship—and fucking Chris Walker is going to be there. He needed to stop thinking of it like that.
Tonight, he was introducing Tate to his world. To his clients and business associates as his partner, the man in his life. That was how he had to think of it.
As the thought settled, he was brought out of his head by the bedroom door opening and Tate stepping into view. And holy shit what a view it is.
Dressed in a perfectly pressed shirt with a black bow tie hanging loosely around his neck, Tate rendered him absolutely speechless. He was playing with his cuff link under the tailored black jacket that was hugging his shoulders, and as Logan stood to go to him, he knew he’d never seen anyone more breathtaking in his life.
He walked over to where Tate had stopped. When he reached him, Tate let go of his wrist and looked up, and that sexy fucking smile of his curled his mouth—the same one that had caught Logan’s eye the first night they’d met.
“You like?” he asked with a glint in his eyes.
Oh, yes…I definitely like. But Logan said nothing as he raised a hand and gestured for Tate to turn. Tate’s brow rose, but then he slowly began to pivot.
The flawless cut of the jacket fit Tate’s lean body to perfection, and his pants were so closely fitted that they made Logan want to touch him—all over.
When he finally completed a full three-sixty, he asked again, “You like?”
“Very much,” Logan told him. His voice was low and full of reverence as he reached out and took either end of the bow tie. He crossed one side over the other and concentrated on the task at hand.
“So I won’t embarrass you tonight?” Tate asked.
Even though he masked it with a chuckle, Logan knew that, somewhere underneath the humor, Tate was genuinely concerned about that.
He tucked one end of the material under the bow he’d formed, and then took either side and tightened it. Once it was straightened, he said with the utmost sincerity, “I will never be prouder than I will be tonight with you.”
* * *
Tate looked into Logan’s eyes, which were free of his glasses, and saw that he was telling the truth. He really was proud to have him by his side, and that made Tate’s heart do some somersaults, because Logan was just…wow.
Logan always looked sophisticated. He oozed charm. But tonight, he’d taken it to a whole new level. He too was dressed in a tux, but his white shirt was punctuated with black buttons down the center and at the cuffs, which he could see peeking out from under his tailored jacket. He had at least a three-day stubble that was perfectly trimmed along his jawline and around his full lips, and as he ran a hand over Logan’s lapel, Tate realized he’d never felt prouder himself.
“You look unbelievable.”
Logan’s mouth quirked at the side and he asked, “In a good way, right?”
Tate did another once over muttering, “In an out-of-this-world kind of way. Jesus, Logan.”
Logan brought a hand up to his shoulder. Tate turned his head to see him brush a piece of lint from his jacket and then turned back to find eyes full of desire and admiration.
“There,” Logan told him. “Now you’re perfect.”
Tate smiled right before Logan cupped the back of his neck and brought their mouths together. He moaned at the contact and tried to keep himself from sliding his hands into Logan’s styled hair.
In the end, he grabbed either side of his suit jacket and opened his mouth. As soon as Logan’s tongue touched his, Tate’s temperature spiked. It was as if touching Logan heated him from the inside out, not to mention started his blood humming through his veins until it pooled in his cock and made it hard as a steel fucking rod.
Holy shit. The power vibrating from Logan’s body excited every part of him.
Gathering some kind of control, Tate pulled his mouth free and shook his head. “We have somewhere to go, and you have to be someone important, Mr. Mitchell.”
Logan took a step back and agreed, “Yes, we do.” He held his hand out, and Tate took it as they walked to his front door.
“Logan?”
Logan turned his head toward him. “Hmm?”
“I’m also very proud to be with you tonight.”
* * *
Logan pulled his Audi up to the valet of the Waldorf Astoria, and as he stepped out of the car and saw Tate climb out the passenger’s side, he wondered in the back of his mind
how tonight was going to play out.
After he’d told Tate about Chris, he’d expected him to be pissed off about it, but all he’d said was, “That’s what you were worried about? If you ever make me wait and worry like that again, I’m going to fucking hurt you.” Then Tate had sat there, drank his coffee, and asked if he was okay with the thought of seeing Chris.
Logan thought about his own answer of, “I’m not sure,” and he still felt that way. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with it, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He just hoped that Cole didn’t recognize his old ‘study partner.’
Buttoning his suit jacket, he watched Tate do the same and then made his way around the front of the car. Ahh, who knew Tate could pull off a tux so well? He looked like he was born to wear one.
When Logan stopped beside him, Tate asked, “Ready?”
The moment felt full circle for him.
It had only been weeks ago that he’d been asking the same thing of Tate as he’d faced his fears, and now here Tate was, helping him face his own.
Logan winked, and when Tate held his hand out to him, all of his worries disappeared.
He slipped his palm into Tate’s and moved in closer to whisper, “In case I get busy in there and don’t say it, thank you.”
“For?” Tate asked as his eyes softened.
Logan squeezed his fingers, and as they started walking inside, he answered, “Always being willing to try.”
* * *
Tate scanned the opulent room and tried not to feel overwhelmed.
As soon as they’d stepped inside the banquet hall, Logan had been pulled away by his paralegal Sherry, and he’d told him that he’d be back as soon as possible. He’d known he would more than likely spend the night in the corner on his own, so it wasn’t like it was a surprise, but at the same time, it left him standing in a room full of—
“Tate!”
Strangers?
He turned in the direction of his name and was more than relieved to see Rachel Madison waving her arm and making her way through several people in his direction.
She was stunning, draped in a bright-red dress that plunged low at the neckline and then fell away to her knees. With the slight baby bump, she was radiant.
“Hello,” she beamed, and as Tate smiled at her, she opened her arms and embraced him in a warm hug.
“Hey.”
“I thought you might like to see a friendly face. I remember my first function with Cole down at the Shedd Aquarium, and it was—”
“Intimidating?” Tate suggested.
“Yes. And overwhelming,” she sighed and stepped back. “I spent the whole night talking to a complete stranger. Well, not the whole night.”
The grin that came across Rachel’s face was deviant, and it almost reminded him of the way Logan looked when he was thinking of something particularly…sinful.
“Lovely lady though,” she finally finished.
Tate winked down at her and nodded. “I’m sure.”
“You look hot by the way. Seriously…smokin’ hot. I think I’m probably the luckiest female on the planet tonight. I’ve got Cole, and I saw Logan walk in with you. Don’t tell him this, but I’ve never seen him look more handsome than he does tonight, and then you? Yep,” she said, popping the ‘p’ and making Tate laugh. “Pretty sure everyone in here is gonna think I’m one lucky lady.”
“Well, we’re all very lucky to be seen with such a beautiful woman as yourself.”
Rachel practically glowed as she giggled. “Ahh, flattery. It will get you everywhere.”
“Yeah, it’s how I put up with Logan. Tell him he’s hot and he rolls right over.”
“Does he now?” Rachel taunted as she leaned in and bumped Tate’s shoulder.
Laughing, Tate shrugged. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Oh, but it’s so fun down there.”
“How about you point out our table and then I’ll get us a drink from the bar.”
Rachel turned around and pointed over to where Cole was standing at the other end of the room, and then he saw Logan walk up and stand next to his brother.
One was light, the other dark, but both men were equally commanding.
It was easy to see how their practice was so successful. They were intelligent and charming, and as Tate stood there sizing them up, he also realized they were both ridiculously attractive men.
They shared a father, Tate knew that, but the man must have had some seriously strong genes, because these two men were something else.
“They’re impressive, aren’t they?”
Tate looked down at Rachel to see that she too was staring over at her husband and brother-in-law.
“Logan’s never looked more attractive. It’s all in his smile. This is the first time I’ve ever seen him really happy.”
Tate touched a hand to Rachel’s lower back and felt his heart warm at her words. “He makes me happy too.” She looked as if she may tear up, so Tate gestured behind him. “I’m gonna go get those drinks. What can I get you?”
“Hmm…A virgin strawberry daiquiri please.”
Tate gave her arm a squeeze and then turned around to make his way toward the bar. He needed something to kick these nerves down a notch, and one quick shot of something would do the trick.
* * *
Logan stood beside Cole, drink in hand, as a long-standing client of theirs walked away to their table.
“You arrived on time tonight,” Cole joked as he turned his way. “Should I thank Tate for that?”
“Definitely not. He’s late for everything.”
“Well in that case, I’m happy to see you both here and on time.”
Logan raised his glass of champagne and took a sip. “Yeah, about tonight. I need to tell you something.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Does this have something to do with Tate’s ex? Because I sent off everything we needed to. If you did anything—”
“Would you stop? It’s nothing to do with that lunatic.”
Cole sighed and rolled his shoulders as if he were relieving himself of that burden. “Okay…then what is it?”
“The new client you met with last week—LPCW Architecture. Did you meet both partners?”
Cole frowned at him. Logan knew his brother was getting annoyed—more so over the fact that he was questioning him than anything else.
“No. I only met Lance Powell. His partner, Christopher, was out of town.”
Logan said nothing, just stared at Cole for a moment, and that was all it took.
Cole was nobody’s fool, and when he felt as though he’d been played, you better get the fuck out of his way.
“Are you trying to tell me that the Christopher Walker who owns half of the biggest architecture firm in Chicago is algebra Chris?”
Logan brought his glass to his lips and nodded as he drained it and then placed it on the tray of a waiter walking by.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Fuck, Logan.”
Logan grabbed ahold of Cole’s arm and steered him over to the side, since he looked like his head was going to explode.
“You think you might have said something, oh, I don’t know…this week?”
Logan sighed and reached up to fiddle with his tie. “I’ve kind of been trying to deal with making Tate feel comfortable, and then I found this out, and just…Well, fuck. I don’t know what to tell you.”
Cole looked like he was grinding his teeth, and Logan wasn’t surprised. He was also more than aware that, if Cole found out the entire truth about Chris, he would likely go postal.
“How long have you known?”
“Since Monday.”
“Of course. This is great. Just fucking great.” Cole’s eyes scanned the room, and Logan knew he was searching for him.
“He’s not here yet.”
“How do you know? We probably won’t even recognize him. It’s been years since college.”
Yeah,
Logan thought, but not since I last saw him.
* * *
Tate stood at the far end of the bar and waited as the other guests were served. He’d been keeping an eye on Logan throughout and just saw him walk off to the side with Cole, where they were now standing in the midst of what seemed like a very heated debate.
Oh shit. Probably smart to wait until that simmers down.
“Good evening.”
Tate turned to his right and saw a blond-haired man stop beside him.
“Hi,” he offered, figuring it’d be rude of him not to try and at least make small talk with Logan’s associates.
“This is some function they’ve thrown tonight.”
Tate looked around at the tables all set for fine dining, the low lights, and the band playing. Then he turned back to the open bar.
“Yeah, you’re right. It’s fairly impressive.”
He felt the man beside him shift a little closer, and Tate turned to see if someone had maybe moved on the other side of the guy. When it was clear there was no one there, Tate then focused on the man again. He was smiling at him in a way he’d only ever had one man smile at him before, and that was Logan.
Clearing his throat, Tate moved as discreetly as he could, adding a small space between them. “So have you been to one of their events before?”
“No,” the man told him, shaking his head. “But you always remember your first.”
Okay, Tate thought, turning to the bartender, who finally stopped in front of him. “Can I get a shot of tequila, a gin and tonic, and a virgin strawberry daiquiri?”
As the guy went off to fill his order, blond guy once again shifted closer and, this time, touched his arm. Tate looked down at the fingers on his sleeve and saw a wedding band on the man’s left finger. Then he brought his eyes up to blue ones focused on him.
But unlike Logan’s heated stares, this man did nothing for him—except perhaps make his skin crawl.
“You’re very attractive.”
Right, okay...Guy obviously saw me with Logan and is what, hitting on me?
“Thank you,” Tate said, trying to be gracious as he pulled his arm away.