Somewhat flattered, Tate eyed the drink in front of her. “I think your drink has impaired your vision.”

“No, it hasn’t. This is only my second one, and you are just…mmm…delicious.”

Tate knew it was her third. He’d been counting.

He wondered, not for the first time, How do I always end up in conversations like this? It was part of the job, he supposed.

Knowing that if he played it up, the tip would likely be a good one, he leaned his side against the bar and continued chatting. “Hard day at the office?”

Red took a sip of her Manhattan and raised a brow. “Are you changing the subject?”

“Not at all. What would you like to talk about?”

“How about you? Are you single?” she daringly inquired, letting her eyes roam all over him.

Tate wasn’t shocked that her look provoked zero response from him, but he was surprised that the mere thought of the man in the gray suit at the other end of the bar had his cock twitching and his skin heating. Fucking Logan.

“Not much to tell,” he replied, choosing to ignore the relationship question.

“Oh, come on,” Red coaxed. “Gorgeous guy, bartender. I bet you have the best stories.”

Tate almost groaned at the irony and wondered how she would feel if he told her, Well, that man down there with the sexy glasses? Yeah, he started flirting with me, just like you are now, and we had sex. It was absolutely mind-blowing sex that I can’t stop thinking about it even though he was a total asshole today about something that could totally change my life. How’s that for a story?

But Tate didn’t tell her that. Instead, he shrugged. “A bartender is just like a priest. We listen to all kinds of confessions, but we never speak of them after they have left the customers’ lips.”

Red moved her drink aside, and reaching across the bar, she traced a finger over the back of his hand. “So, I could tell you anything, and you wouldn’t tell a soul?”

Looking into her eyes, Tate tried to see if he could feel the way he did when Logan stared at him, but as she dropped her gaze to his mouth, Tate felt, nothing.

“That’s right.” He glanced down, finally allowing himself a chance to appreciate that she had an amazing set of breasts. The problem was, he was much more interested in the dick at the other end of the—

“Is this seat taken?”

The redhead turned first to see who’d spoken. Of course, the second her attention landed on Logan, she pulled her hand back from Tate, the less-than-accommodating bartender, and instead, she focused on the seductive and interesting—

Asshole.

“It is now. Please, feel free…” she invited.

Tate fired a drop-dead glare in Logan’s direction.

 “To do?” Logan drawled as he looked to Tate with aggravation swirling behind those glasses.

“Whatever you like,” she told him. Reaching out, she ran her fingers, the same ones that had just stroked his hand, over the suit covering Logan’s arm.

“You know what I’d really love to do?”

The clueless woman leaned in, and for some reason, Tate braced himself with his palms on the edge of the bar. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that whatever Logan was gearing up to say, was not going to be even remotely appropriate.

“No, what?”

Logan also moved forward until his lips almost brushed against the woman’s, but at the last second, he turned his attention on him. “Your bartender.”

Okay, Tate thought, there’s no doubt here. My cock definitely knows who it wants.

“Huh?” Red asked, clearly not understanding.

But Tate wasn’t confused by the words or the look Logan was aiming at him. It screamed, You’re mine, not hers.

“Your bartender,” Logan repeated and turned back to face her while Tate held the wood under his hands. “I want to do him, as in take off his clothes and fuck him, and you’re in my way.”

Tate witnessed the woman, whose mouth had parted in shock, turn and face him as if waiting for—

Sorry, lady. I’m used to his mouth.

As the three of them remained locked in an awkward silence, Tate decided he needed to do something since it was apparent Logan was just going to stir shit up if left to his own devices.

Looking across to him, Tate managed, “Can I get you something?”

Logan licked his lips. “You. Alone in a room.”

“No,” Tate countered.

“Why? Scared of me? You should be. I don’t like being ignored.”

Tate stared at him in disbelief. “I’m not scared of you, and we had this conversation a week or so ago.”

“Yes, and this morning in bed, it certainly seemed you’d come around, but not so much now, with the avoiding routine.”

That was when Red slid down off her seat. “Uh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that you two—”

“Are together?” Logan announced before Tate could even utter a word. “Well, we are, so go hit on someone else. He’s mine. I found him first.”

* * *

Logan wasn’t kidding. That was how he really felt, and Tate needed to know that right now.

“I don’t like to be ignored or hung up on,” he told Tate again as the redhead finally took a hike. He detected a small twitch in Tate’s cheek, and he was satisfied at the thought that he, too, was suppressing his outrage.

“Yeah? Well, I don’t like hearing that I’m just a piece of ass. So, why don’t you get lost? I’m not in the mood for you.”

Logan pushed off the stool quickly and grabbed Tate’s vest, hauling him in close until he was up against the counter. “Well, that’s too bad because I’m in the mood for you, and I wasn’t lying to her. I want you, and I’m going to have you.”

Tate scoffed at him, and Logan had to control the urge to take that mocking mouth with his own.

“Yeah? Well, excuse me if I don’t believe you. You say one thing to me and then something else when I’m not there.”

Logan looked around and saw several people focused on their display. He then faced the furious man in front of him. “You think so, huh? I don’t know, right now, everyone in this bar knows exactly who I want. So, I’d say I’m expressing it very well. Want me to put my tongue in your mouth and really make it obvious?”

Tate’s eyes darkened, and Logan knew the idea appealed to him even as he continued to seethe.

“I’m not talking about now, and you know it. But why should you care anyway? It’s not like this is serious. Now, let me go.”

“Meet me in the back,” he ordered softly.

Tate’s glare didn’t falter. “Not in a million years.”

“Why not?” Logan rasped, getting more turned-on by the second. He wanted Tate’s lips under his, so he could turn that sneer into a groan.

“Because I know you.”

“And?”

“And…you’ll get your hands on me, and I’ll be fucked.”

Logan revealed his teeth in a savage grin. “It’s not my hands that I use for that particular activity, and even I wouldn’t let your first time be in the back of a bar. Your first time is going to be in my bed under me.”

“Let. Me. Go,” Tate sneered, this time enunciating each word. “Everyone is watching us.”

“Yeah, they are. They’re all wondering, Are they going to punch each other or kiss each other? They’re so confused. What about you? Are you confused?”

“Me? Are you?” Tate demanded.

Logan finally released him, sat back, and watched as Tate ran his hands down his vest. “I’m not confused at all. I just didn’t feel like giving in to Cole’s twenty questions, so sue me. If you answered your phone or listened to your messages, then maybe this would already be sorted out.”

Tate looked down the bar quickly and then back at him. “I have customers, and I did listen to your messages. And you know what? I heard everything you had to say, but one thing was missing.”

Logan lifted his hands. “What, Tate? What didn’t I say?”