He glanced at the clock on the wall and ran a hand through his hair to grip the back of his neck. Why does shit always happen all at once? He looked at the empty seat beside him and grit his teeth.

The coffee he’d been handed ten minutes ago was as thick as sludge—and the same color too. As he stared intently at the door leading back to the halls beyond, he cursed that he was even back in this hospital in the first place, but there was nowhere else he’d rather be at that moment.

He heard his phone buzz inside his coat pocket and pulled it out to read the message. When he saw it, he grimaced. Not much I can do about that, he thought as he opened it and typed back: No, stay there. Text me when you can.

After hitting send, he sat back and crossed his ankles. Tate was right; he had no patience. He hated waiting for anything, and as he looked around once again, he remembered Cole telling him that Rachel’s contractions had started last night. It was now three in the afternoon.

Surely, that meant it would be over soon, right?

Tate parked Logan’s car in the garage of Leighton & Associates and picked his phone up. The text waiting for him made him chuckle. Logan was irked that he couldn’t be at the meeting they’d been called in for today with Finley, but at the same time, there was no way he wasn’t going to be at the hospital when his niece or nephew arrived.

Earlier, he’d given him a kiss, grumbling about timing and how it sucked, and then he’d handed over the keys to his car and said that he’d catch a taxi.

Tate hit call and unbuckled the seat belt as he waited several rings for it to connect.

“Hello.”

He laughed at the bored tone in Logan’s voice. “You’ve only been there an hour. Are you Uncle Logan yet?”

Logan let out a sigh. “No. And I know it’s only been an hour. But all of this waiting is painful.”

“Not as painful as it is for Rachel, I imagine.”

“Hilarious.”

“I thought so,” Tate replied, checking his phone for the time.

“I assume my car made it there in one piece?”

Tate glanced around the luxurious interior of the vehicle and nodded. “It did. As did the occupant, who you seem much less concerned with.”

“I figured if you can talk, you’re fine. But that doesn’t mean my baby is.”

Tate opened the car door and climbed out, locking it behind him. “Your baby? I’m starting to worry about you and your vehicles. Your truck is female. This one, I’m assuming, is also female. Should I be concerned you might be wanting to switch sides here?”

A boom of laughter came through the phone at that. “Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“You never have to worry about that. I happen to love the way your crankshaft works. Your piston sliding through my cylinder.”

Tate stopped in his tracks, his mouth hanging open. “A filthy mind—that’s what you have.”

“Around you? Fucking count on it.”

He started walking again and then punched the up button on the elevator when he reached it. “You aren’t worried about Finley, are you?”

“No,” Logan answered a little too quickly, which had Tate’s lips twitching.

“Good. Because there’s nothing to worry about.”

Logan mumbled something unintelligible through the phone.

Tate said, “Hey?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to get this wrapped up and head right over there, okay?”

“Okay.”

He stepped into the elevator, and as the doors slid shut, he added, “Love you.”

Without missing a beat, Logan replied, “I love you too.”

“Logan?”

Logan opened his eyes at the sound of his name and found Tate striding down the hall toward him. He stood, smiling at the appearance of him and how damn good he looked. His cheeks were rosy from the cold, and snow was clinging to his hair in a way Logan was discovering he loved.

Tate gave him a solid hug and kissed his ear. “Before you feel the need to ask, your car is fine. She’s parked outside in the covered lot.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he said as they pulled apart and sat beside one another.

“Yeah, but not knowing would’ve killed you” Tate said with a laugh.

“I trust you.”

Tate bumped their shoulders together and grinned. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Mhmm. So, what happened? Why’d he want to see us today?”

Tate placed his ankle on his knee and angled his body toward him.

Logan narrowed his eyes and asked, “Was it good?”

Tate nodded. “It’s better than good.”

“Better?” he asked as Tate took his hands in his.

“Yes, better. They settled. They gave us exactly what we asked for.”

Logan’s eyes widened at the grin on Tate’s face. “You’re serious right now?”

“I’m dead serious. The insurance company agreed to pay the full amount without us having to take it to court.”

Logan sat up in his chair and grabbed his face. “That’s fucking awesome!”

“I know,” Tate said, laughing as Logan kissed him. When he pulled back, Tate lightly touched his chin. “Thank you.”

“Me? Why? I didn’t do anything. It kills me to say it, but we should be thanking Finley. He didn’t let up for a second. He threw out a number I wasn’t sure was even possible. And fuck, he got it for you.”

The wide smile on Tate’s mouth was so fucking contagious that Logan found himself laughing.

“Happy?”

“I don’t know. I feel…” Tate’s words trailed off.

“Yeah?”

Tate leaned his forehead against his and said, “I feel like the luckiest person on the planet right now.”

Logan was about to answer, but they were interrupted.

“Hey, you two? Think you could keep your hands off each other for a few minutes to give me a hug for having the most handsome boy in all of Chicago as of thirty minutes ago?”

Logan turned his head and saw Cole standing with his hands spread wide in front of him and a proud-as-hell look on his face.

“A boy?” Logan asked as they both got to their feet.

“Damn right,” Cole boasted, walking over to them. As he embraced him, he asked, “Did you doubt it with my genes running through the child? Our stock produces men.”

Tate reached forward to shake Cole’s hand, and he pulled him into a hug.

“Glad you got here in time, Morrison.”

“Me too.”

“Where is the rest of the clan?” Logan asked as they followed Cole through the large doors.

“They’re on their way. Rachel didn’t want to call anyone until he was here. It was the only way to keep them out of the delivery room.”

“You called me,” Logan pointed out.

When they stopped at the door to Rachel’s room, he caught Cole’s “Really?” expression. “We both knew there was no way in hell you’d want to be in there.”

As Cole pushed the door open and stepped inside, Logan mumbled under his breath, “You’ve got that fucking right.”

Tate chuckled behind him.

“Like you weren’t thinking it.”

“Logan, Tate…” Rachel beamed at them.

“Well, hello there, Mrs. Madison,” Logan greeted, making his way around to the side of the bed to kiss her forehead.

She looked beautiful, but the dark circles under her usually vibrant eyes showed just how exhausted she was.

As Tate moved to the other side, he took her hand and winked down at her. “If you didn’t want to cook Thanksgiving dinner, you could’ve just said so. Fifteen hours of labor? That’s one stubborn boy you have there.”

She giggled at Tate’s comment but gazed at her husband, who was standing at the foot of the bed. “What can I say? He wanted to be in control of things. Obviously a trait he gets from his father.”

“Obviously,” Logan agreed. “But don’t worry. I’m sure his good looks will come from his mother.”

She laughed up at him as Cole called him a not-so-nice name.

“So,” Tate said with a very serious expression. “I have a question I really need to ask.”

“What?” Rachel asked, taking Tate’s fingers in her own. “What is it?”