Lifting his lips, Tate pointed out, “That’s because you’re hanging on to me.”

“Well, your mouth was kind of molesting mine.”

Tate took his hand from the wall, bringing it down to cover Logan’s right fist. “I just need some time to think, okay?”

“Okay.” Logan released his hold on the leather. “But not too long. Tomorrow, lunch. It’s your day off, right?”

“You memorized my schedule? How sweet.”

“Fuck you.”

“You already told me I wasn’t ready for that, so keep your offers to yourself.”

“So, it’s an offer now? Not a threat? Look at you, warming to the idea. That makes me fucking hard.”

Tate shook his head and stepped away to walk back to the door. Over his shoulder, he called out, “Give you an inch…”

“And I’ll want six or seven more,” Logan called back.

“Jesus.” Tate laughed as he opened the door and left, knowing that he would be at lunch the next day. He just wasn’t sure what would happen after that.

* * *

Grabbing his cell phone from the nightstand, Tate opened his contacts, found Logan’s number, and decided a text would be better than dealing with Logan’s smart mouth this early. Punching in—Morning—he hit Send and wondered how quick of a response he would get. It was almost immediate.

Logan: You’re up early for a day off.

Couldn’t sleep.

Logan: Should I apologize?

Are you sorry?

Logan: Good point. No.

Then, don’t apologize.

Logan: Why couldn’t you sleep?

Busy head.

Logan: Are YOU sorry?

Tate must have stared at that text longer than he’d thought because his phone vibrated again.

Logan: I keep telling you, turn your brain off, Tate.

It’s not that easy.

Logan: Why?

Because.

Logan: I’ve told you already that because doesn’t work for me. Why?

Cause I can’t stop wanting you & you’re a GUY. I don’t like guys. Ugh, I don’t understand why I’m…shit…no one I know will understand.

Logan: Like who?

Friends, family…

Logan: Hang on, we’re meeting family now?

Tate rolled his eyes at the question. The mere suggestion of something other than casual, and Logan changed from flirtatious and demanding, to sarcastic and blunt.

Forget it.

Logan: No, don’t do that.

Do what?

Logan: Get pissed-off. You’re so stubborn.

And you’re impossible.

Logan: Are you scowling?

Tate pressed his fingers to the frown between his brows before lowering them back to the phone.

Yes.

Logan: Hmm, we both know how I feel about that.

The same way you feel about everything?

Logan: And how’s that?

Horny.

Logan: Around you, Tate? 24/7. Now, what time are you coming to get me for lunch?

I’m not coming to get you.

Logan: So, you want ME to come to YOU? Give me your address. I’ll be there ASAP.

Tate glanced around his bedroom and imagined Logan in his room a little too easily, and that had him reaching for his thickening erection. But at the last second, he stopped.

I’ll come to you.

Logan: Thought you might.

What will we tell people?

Logan: People? Like who?

I don’t know. Anyone?

Logan: Nothing. It’s none of their business.

But what if they ask?

Logan: Then, I’ll tell them to fuck off.

What. If. They. Ask. Logan?

Logan: They won’t. But IF they do, I’ll tell them we’re going to lunch to discuss your case.

You’re on the other side.

Logan: Well, everyone knows I like to play both sides.

Not helping.

Logan: Are you laughing or scowling?

Both.

Logan: Well fuck, now I want to kiss you.

Tate looked at that line and read it over and over before another text came through.

Logan: Would you let me?

Yes.

Logan: That was quick.

That was honest.

Logan: And THAT is sexy. Jesus, I can’t be hard at work. Okay, so tell me, what time will you be here?

Tate glanced at the clock on his bedside table to see it was now nine thirty.

How about 12:30?

Logan: How about 11:30?

You’ll be hungry then?

Logan: Yes, but not for food. Tate?

Choosing to ignore the first part of the text, he replied with, Yes?

Logan: I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.

And just that easy, Logan had him lying in bed with a grin.

Well, you better try.

Logan: Oh, I’ve tried, and I can’t wait to again. See you at 11:30.

Yep. See ya.

Then, as quickly as it started, the connection ended.

A precursor of things to come? Tate wondered. Only time will tell.

* * *

Logan sat behind his desk with the phone to his ear and an eye on the clock.

Eleven fifteen, Tate should be here soon…if he shows.

He’ll show. He said he would, and if Tate is anything, he’s undeniably honest.

As he hung up from the call, Logan’s door opened, and Cole stuck his head through the space, motioning in a way as if to ask, Can I come in?

Lifting his hand, Logan gestured for him to enter, and as the door was pushed farther open, Cole’s face changed from serious to a shit-eating grin. Behind him stood Tate, looking anything but comfortable, and he was currently glaring at him around Cole’s large frame.

I’m going to kill him, Logan thought as his eyes met his brother’s.

As Cole strolled into the room, he unbuttoned his perfectly pressed black jacket and pushed his hands into his pockets.

Motherfucker is having a great time.

Tate, on the other hand, looked strained as if he were visiting the dentist. He moved two steps into the office and stayed as close to the far wall as possible.

What did Cole say to him?

Logan’s attention moved to Cole, who was standing by the corner of his desk, pretending to look at the mail in the tray sitting there. It was so unlike his stuffed-shirt brother to be taking the time to nose around the way he was, so Logan knew something was up, and not in a good way. It was more like an I’m-about-to-fuck-with-you kind of way.

Logan carefully looked to Tate, who was staring at the red helmet in his hand and had his other one stuffed into his jeans. He was wearing a white shirt with that sexy leather jacket, and when Logan finally tore his focus away from him and turned back to Cole, his brother raised a brow and then opened his fucking mouth.

“Mr. Morrison said you called him about a business meeting today.”

Logan narrowed his eyes on Cole as he pushed his chair back from the desk and stood. Buttoning his own jacket, he made his way around to where Cole was.

“Yes, that’s right. We need to go over a few things.”

Cole turned toward him, and pulled his mouth into a thin line while dropping several envelopes back into the tray on Logan’s desk. Silently, he inclined his head and made his way back to the door and past Tate, who still hadn’t said a word but was looking at Cole with no expression on his face at all.

Cole acknowledged him, opened the door, and at the last moment, looked back.

He then addressed Logan in a voice that made him want to throw something at him.

“Funny that I wasn’t informed about this meeting since I handle Mrs. Morrison’s—oh, I’m sorry, his ex’s case.”