“Forget I mentioned it,” Logan said, surprised by how much tension seeped from his muscles when he realized Mom and Daniel wanted to spend time with him not out of guilt, but genuine interest. He couldn’t help but smile at the insight.

Mom grinned at him as she opened the door of her late-model sedan. “Well, there’s that knockout smile of yours. You do look like your father.”

And maybe that was why his mom had all but deserted him as a child. His father wasn’t the kind of man who should have ever married and had kids. Logan wondered if he’d taken after the guy in more than looks.

As they drove across town, Mom pointed out new shops and restaurants that had replaced the ones he’d known in his youth. The diner where their short-lived happy family had breakfasted every Saturday had somehow managed to survive in a world full of fast food and coffee house chains. The remembered bell over the door jangled nostalgically as they entered. The décor had been updated from red vinyl to green vinyl, but most everything looked just as Logan remembered it: except his brother. Daniel was sitting in a corner booth shredding a paper napkin. Pasty-faced and gaunt, he’d aged at least ten years since Logan had last seen him. And was that a bald spot shining on top of Daniel’s head? Damn, he looked old. Daniel started when Mom slid into the booth beside him and kissed his cheek. He dropped what was left of the napkin and lifted his gaze to Logan, who was still too stunned by his brother’s appearance to sit across from them.

“Daniel?” Logan questioned, not sure he would have recognized him on the street. “Is everything okay?”

Daniel licked his lips and nodded toward the seat across from him. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

Logan slid into the booth and stared quizzically at the brother who was more a stranger to him now than ever. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Mom said. She gave Daniel’s hand an encouraging squeeze.

Before Logan could ask what the hell was going on, a grandmotherly waitress made an appearance. “Well, aren’t you the best-looking thing that’s ever been in this place?”

Logan was so busy puzzling over why he’d been asked to meet with his brother that he failed to recognize he’d been complimented until his mother spoke up.

“Oh, I don’t know. Daniel here might win a few votes in that competition.” Mom squeezed Daniel’s hand again.

“Of course he would,” the waitress said in a mollifying tone. “What can I get y’all?”

“Coffee,” Logan said automatically. “Why exactly did you want to meet me here?” he asked his brother, who didn’t answer because he was rattling off a list of instructions for his elaborate order.

Logan opened his mouth to repeat his question, but was interrupted when his mom decided to ask questions about every item on the menu. Already exhausted from their limited interaction, Logan rubbed at one eye wearily and wondered why Toni hadn’t called him yet.

Finally deciding she’d just have the special, Mom folded her menu and handed it to the waitress.

“Are you sure all you want is coffee?” the waitress asked Logan.

Maybe if he ate something, he could gather his suddenly scattered wits. “What’s good here?”

“I’d say you served up with a side of bacon, Hotcakes, but that would probably get me in trouble.” The rather elderly waitress winked at him.

Logan chuckled. “I’m not sure I’m on the menu. I remember this place used to serve the best homemade biscuits with butter and honey. Do you still have those?”

“You’ve been here before?” The waitress’s brown eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’m sure I would have remembered you.”

“It’s been many years,” he said. Around twenty or so. “But I still remember those biscuits.”

“I hope they’re as good as you remember,” she said as she wrote down his order, took the untouched menu from the table in front of him, and sashayed away with more swagger than most women half her age.

“I think you have an admirer,” Mom said with a giggle.

“I’m sure he’s used to it,” Daniel said.

Did a man ever get used to women old enough to be his grandmother hitting on him? Logan thought not. But he honestly didn’t mind her misguided affection. It was far better than being ignored and forgotten.

“Again,” Logan said, “why did you want to meet me here?”

Daniel dropped his gaze to the table. “I was hoping you could help me out.”

“I’d be happy to,” Logan said without hesitation. “Now are you going to tell me what I’m supposed to be helping you out with?”

“I’m in a bit of a bind,” Daniel said. “Financially.”

Daniel’s eyes, the same familiar blue shade Logan saw in the mirror each day, darted upward and then dropped to stare at the table.

“So you lured me here to ask for a loan,” Logan said, all hope for a joyous family reconciliation fizzling out of him. He was sure it wasn’t easy for Daniel to ask him for money. His brother must be fairly desperate to sink to that level.

“A loan?” Mom squeezed Daniel’s hand again. “He’s your brother, Logan. I know you have more money than you know what to do with.”

“How do you know that?” Logan asked. “Maybe I spent it all on drugs and women.”

Daniel jerked his hand from his mother’s grasp and shoved her out of the booth so he could stand. “I knew this was a bad idea. He doesn’t care about my problems.”

“Sit down,” Logan demanded. “I didn’t say no, did I?”

Daniel offered him a suspicious look, but he sat. Mom sidled back in next to him and patted him consolingly on the back.

“Are you ill?” Logan asked. “Do you need money for medical treatment?” He looked like shit.

Daniel hesitated and then shook his head.

“Drugs? Gambling? Booze?”

Daniel glanced at Mom and then shook his head again. “Bad investments,” he said.

“Someone played you for a sucker and took all your money,” Logan guessed.

Daniel took a deep breath and nodded, refusing to meet Logan’s eyes. “I didn’t have all that much money to begin with.”

The waitress arrived with their beverages. Logan thanked her as he took a hesitant sip of what turned out to be molten-hot coffee. She offered him a toothy smile as she sauntered away again.

“So what happened?” Logan asked. He wasn’t against helping his brother without strings—he really did have more money than he knew what to do with—but he wanted details before he started tossing cash around.

“I was trying to get into real estate. Buying houses cheap, flipping them, and selling them for a profit.”

“He loves to watch those shows on cable,” Mom said.

Daniel rolled his eyes at her and turned his attention back to Logan. “Let’s just say I’m not good at picking out profitable flip houses and leave it at that.”

“He’s also not good at plumbing,” Mom added.

“You flood one basement and you never hear the end of it,” Daniel grumbled.

“What’s the damage?” Logan asked, taking another sip of his coffee and finding it now safe for consumption.

“A hundred should cover it.”

Logan sputtered. “Grand?”

“No, a hundred dollars, Logan,” Daniel said and shook his head at Logan’s apparent idiocy. “Yes, a hundred grand. How much do you think houses cost?”

“Why don’t you just sell it to recoup your investment?” Logan asked.

“I just need the money, okay?”

“The house isn’t worth what he paid for it, much less what he still owes the contractors,” Mom said.

“Why should I bail you out? I haven’t seen you for over a year. We barely speak to each other, yet I’m supposed to hand over a substantial sum of money simply because you fucked up.”

“Logan,” Mom said. She reached across the table to touch his hand for the first time since they’d sat down. “He’s your brother. He needs you.”

And Logan had needed him once too. But not any longer. “I honestly thought you’d looked me up because you’d read that article printed in the tabloids and realized how terrible you both were to me when I was a kid.”