It was one o’clock, and they were scheduled to meet up with the lawyer, Finley, over at Leighton & Associates. Cole had recommended the guy as the best in the business when it came to personal injury claims, so he’d set up a meeting a couple of days ago. Since then, Tate had thought of little else.

When Logan pulled the car to a stop, Tate walked over to the curb and opened the door. He slid inside and brought his hands up to his mouth to blow on them as the locks clicked. Then he turned his head to see Logan as polished and put together as always in his business suit.

“Shit, it’s cold out there today,” he said, unzipping his jacket and putting his hands against the vents of the heater.

“And here I was just thinking how hot you looked.”

Tate glanced over at him and winked. “Pretty sure that would be you, not me. I feel like a fucking icicle.”

“Why did you wait outside? I would’ve text you when I got here.”

“I was only out there for a minute or two, but damn. I always forget how cold it gets here.”

Logan put the car in gear and agreed. “I know. Why do we live here again?”

Tate snickered. “I ask myself the same thing every year. And this no-transportation deal is driving me crazy. I really need to get a car and soon. I can’t keep having you drive across the city to get me.”

“I don’t mind coming to get you.” Logan reached across the seat and stroked his thigh. “Not ever.”

Tate sat back and buckled his seat belt. “Well, I care. You can’t keep carting my sorry ass around the city. You have a job, and soon, I’ll be going back to work. I need a way to get around.”

Logan flicked his indicator on and checked over his shoulder before merging into the flow of traffic. “I know. And I have to say… I like that you said a car—a vehicle with doors and a roof. That eases my mind slightly.”

“Slightly?”

When Logan ran his eyes over him and gave a rueful grin, Tate covered the hand he still had resting on his thigh.

“I’m pretty sure it’s going to take years before I’m completely worry-free. Maybe forever.”

“I can understand that.”

Logan removed his hand to change gears as he slowed at a red light and then gave him a serious look. “Good.”

As the light changed to green and they started up again, Tate looked out the window at the cars beside him and asked, “What do you know about this guy Finley?”

“Not a whole lot. Cole’s worked with him a few times, and I trust him. Says he’s a bit of a pit bull when it comes to winning, but that’s what you want in this kind of case.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tate said and turned to study Logan’s side profile. “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Everything. I don’t know. Choosing me.”

“For choosing you?” Logan asked with a laugh.

“Yeah,” Tate nodded, and then he raised his eyebrows suggestively. “You had a lot of…options. I don’t think I ever thanked you for being such a persistent pain in my ass.”

Logan turned the car into a parking garage and let down the window to take a ticket. When he gave it to him and clasped his hand, he shook his head and said so seriously that it made Tate catch his breath, “After I saw you, there was no one else. Now, put this somewhere fun for me to find later, would you?”

Tate made a show of lifting his hips and putting it in his back pocket.

As Logan drove in under the boom gate, he said, “See? No one else would ever do. You totally get me.”

Twenty minutes later, Logan sat beside Tate in the conference room they’d been shown into and unbuttoned his jacket. He looked around at the décor, and while it was elegant and comfortable enough for clients, he was egotistical enough to note that their office was much more impressive. As he turned his head in Tate’s direction, he saw him watching his inspection.

“What?” he asked.

“Sizing up the competition, Mr. Mitchell?”

Logan rested an arm on the table in front of him as he angled his body toward Tate. “Always. Honestly, our relationship aside, would you want to do business in this conference room or ours?”

Tate let out a low chuckle. “You’re so competitive.”

“I am not.”

“Yes. You are.”

Logan arched an eyebrow and pointed a finger at him. “You didn’t answer the question.”

Tate rubbed his chin. “Putting our relationship aside and the fact that I have extremely vivid memories of the first time I was ever in your conference room?”

“Yes. Putting aside all of that.”

Tate scrunched his nose up in mock disgust. “Then the truth is I never would’ve kissed you in this room. I was much more impressed by the size of yours.”

Logan laughed and dropped his gaze to Tate’s lips. He was about to speak when the door to the room opened, and Tate’s new lawyer finally joined them.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen.”

Logan turned his head in the direction of the voice. When his eyes landed on the tall, good-looking blond who’d just entered the room, his mouth fell open. There, standing in front of them, was—

“I’m Daniel. Daniel Finley.”

Logan felt his eyes widen in shock at the man who was currently looking between the two of them, and as he pulled the chair out opposite them, Logan tried to work out what the fuck was going on.

This is Finley? The same fucking guy who was with Robbie that night at Whipped?

He pivoted in his seat to face Tate and saw that he had the same shocked-as-shit expression. When he looked back at the man who was now sitting with a crooked grin on his face, he wondered if this was some kind of joke.

“Now this is a happy coincidence. I had no idea that the Mr. Morrison and Mr. Mitchell I was meeting with today were the two of you.”

“The hell you didn’t,” Logan couldn’t stop himself from saying, and he felt Tate sit up a little straighter in the chair beside him when he let out the obscene curse he’d been holding in.

Daniel…Finley…or whoever the fuck he is, Tate thought, opened the file, and as he ran his eyes down the information inside, he pushed a piece of his shoulder-length hair behind his ear. Tate shifted to see Logan pin him with a “can you fucking believe this” look of his own.

“Funny thing is, I didn’t know that Cole had a brother,” Finley stated without looking up from what he was reading.

“Apparently, there were several things neither of us was aware of.”

Logan’s tone was so frosty that Tate was surprised that, when he reached over and took his hand, it was warm instead of ice cold. Then Finley lifted his head, and when he locked eyes with Logan, Tate was torn between running interference and wanting to watch them lock horns with one another.

“I’m sorry. Are you implying that I just lied to you, Mr. Mitchell?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m positive you knew exactly who Cole’s brother and business partner was before you walked through that door today.”

“And you? You didn’t do a little background checking before you came in? I find that hard to believe.”

Tate eyed the man who was holding Logan’s stare, and the air in the room thrummed with angry testosterone. He remembered the confident way this Daniel guy had practically invited them to his bed months ago, and so, apparently, did Logan.

“No. I didn’t. I trusted my brother’s judgment. Clearly, that was a mistake.”

“What’s the problem here?” Daniel asked. “That I’m one up on you? Because I’m not averse to you being up on me—either of you for that matter.”

“That’s it. Let’s go,” Logan said as he turned toward Tate.

Tate pushed back in his chair and got to his feet, knowing that the annoyance lighting those brilliant eyes had to be matching his own irritation.

Apparently, this guy isn’t deterred by the word no.