Try (Temptation Series) (41 page)

He trailed off, and Logan felt his own anxiety starting to swirl and race through him.
Meeting parents? Meeting family?
Family that won’t like me because of who I am?
No, thanks
. He’d already had one of those in his life with his own father.

Plus, are we really that serious that we have to jump into this right now? Tate is just nervous, he is rushing things, he is—

“I
want
to tell them, Logan. They need to hear it from me—the right way, not the distorted, warped version that she’ll tell.”

Okay, so apparently, Tate is very coherent.

Logan took a step back and rested up against his desk. Removing his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Tate, I don’t know. I’m not good with families. I don’t think you need me there.”

Tate stepped toward him and reached out to touch his shoulder. “Of course you need to be there.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Logan stared up into the brown eyes now staring at him with confusion.

“I don’t understand.”

Glancing away from that all-too-knowing stare, Logan said once again, “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“
What’s
not a good idea?” Tate demanded, his voice so loud that Logan knew it could be heard outside of his office.

Standing, so they were on equal footing, Logan put his glasses back on and slid his hands back into his pockets for something to do. Suddenly, the whole day looked totally fucked-up. “I just don’t think we’re at that stage yet. I mean, I get you need to tell them. But they don’t need to meet me.”

Tate blinked several times and almost staggered back from him. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Letting out a sigh, knowing this was not what Tate wanted to hear right now, Logan raised a hand and stroked his chin. “No.”

Tate launched himself at him before Logan even had a moment to counter it. He shoved him so hard in the chest that Logan stumbled back and landed on the desk.

“You fucking asshole!” Tate boomed as he crowded in against him.

Taking a hold of his jacket lapels in his fists, Tate yanked him up, and Logan had never,
ever
seen him look so volatile. He also had never realized how fucking strong Tate was when he was angry.

“You ask
everything
of me, everything, and risk absolutely nothing in return.”

Releasing him with a rough, hard push, Tate glared at him in a way that made Logan feel like the piece of shit he knew he was being.

“I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Did things get a little too real for you, Logan? Well, fuck you! My whole goddamn life just changed, and here you are, backing away like a pussy.”

Logan straightened and stood up as Tate moved to the door. He was about to call out to him, stop him from leaving, when Tate placed his palm on the handle and turned back, pinning him with a look that shouldn’t have, but did, cut him to the core.

“Why don’t you understand that everything I’ve done and
just
did, I did because of how you make me
feel
, Logan? Even when I knew my family wouldn't understand, I did it anyway, just to get closer to you. How stupid was I?”

Logan couldn’t find the words to even begin to explain what he was thinking, and as Tate walked out of his office, Logan knew that Tate hadn’t wanted to hear them anyway.

* * *

Logan stood in the deafening silence that Tate had left behind. He felt the ache that had been growing, since Rachel and Jill stepped into his office, fester into a wide gaping hole that was now threatening to swallow him.

One minute, he’d been kissing Tate and planning exactly what he was going to do to the man that night, and the next, World War–fucking-female broke lose. Tate had pushed him for more, Logan had shut down, and now, Tate was gone.
Fucking gone.

Jesus
, he thought, storming around his desk to take a seat.

Just as his ass hit the leather, there was a knock on the door, and Rachel, Cole’s wife, poked her head into his office. “Hey.”

Looking up at her, Logan rested his head back against the chair and tried for a smile. “Hey.”

He watched the woman he loved as a sister walk in and stop on the other side of his desk. She placed her pink-tipped fingers on the surface and leaned in. “Oh God, how badly did I screw this up for you?”

Logan’s mouth quirked as he thought about how angry Tate had been, but the fault wasn’t anyone’s but his own. “You didn’t.”

Rachel made her way around the desk and when she was beside his chair, she turned, rested her hip up against the wood desk, and looked down at him.

Logan had known Rachel for a little over three years, and as usual, today, she looked gorgeous in her black leather pants and pink polka-dotted blouse. She was beautiful in a wild in-your-face kind of way, the complete opposite to her—

Knock, knock.

“Hello?” Cole called out as he pushed open the door.

Husband.

“Hey,” Logan replied.

Cole stepped through the door before shutting it behind him. Rachel was still staring down at him as though she was waiting for him to speak, but he really had nothing to say.

Huh, that has to be a first.

“Did Mr. Morrison leave?”

Logan raised a brow at his brother. “His name’s Tate, and he’s not here, and neither is the bitch you’re working with, so you can cut the polite shit.”

“Look, I was just—”

“Just what?” Logan snapped.

Rachel cut in by moving forward and placing a palm on his shoulder. “Hey, relax. He’s just trying to—”

“Tell me what I did wrong? That he was right? No, thanks, heard it all before.”

Rachel laughed softly. “You’re just like him.”

“
Him
is right here, Mrs. Madison,” Cole reminded her in a tone Logan figured worked for Rachel since she looked back over her shoulder to where her husband was standing.

Smoothly, she told him, “Oh, I know exactly where you are, smartass,” before turning back to face Logan, “Like he’s easy to ignore. But what I was going to say is, Cole’s just trying to see if you’re okay. He knows how much Tate means to you.”

Logan took off his glasses and tossed them onto the desk. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t matter. I’m pretty sure he just dumped my ass.”

Rachel frowned. “What? But I don’t understand. He said—”

“What’d you do?” Cole questioned, stepping forward to the desk.

“Excuse me?”

“What. Did. You. Do?”

Logan glared across at Cole with a look that screamed,
Fuck off
.

“That
straight
guy just told his ex-wife and sister that he was dating you, then you came in here, and now, you say he left and dumped you. So, what did you do?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit.”

Logan stood, hoping that would make him feel better about the situation, but it didn’t. Cole, meanwhile, stared him down until he had Logan rolling his eyes.

Screw Cole and his ability to wait me out. Two can play at that game.

“Go away. I have a busy morning and a boring night to look forward to, so please, leave.”

“He said something about family, didn’t he? His sister, his ex? What happened, Logan? He wants you to meet the parents?”

Rachel stood beside him and touched Logan’s hand. “Was that it? Because that’s great. He must really like you.”

Logan looked down into the wide blue eyes staring up at him. They were hopeful, sweet, and not-so-innocent since he knew his brother.

“Look, not everyone’s like you two. It’s too soon for all of that.”

From across the desk, he heard a mocking laugh, and his head snapped around, so he was once again facing Cole.

“You dumb shit. He just got outed to everyone he knows and stood up for you, and you told him no to meeting his parents?” Cole laughed again. “I would have fucking punched you before I left, if I were him.”

He very nearly did
, Logan thought, remembering the rage on Tate’s face. But then he also recalled the disappointment and pain in the expression he’d seen right before Tate had walked out.

As Logan stood there silently, Rachel ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder. “Go to him, and apologize. Swallow your pride.”

Logan looked down at her and tried to diffuse the much-too-emotional moment with inappropriateness. “It’s not pride I’d have to swallow.”

A small smile tipped her lips as her eyes sparkled. “I’m not rising to your dirty bait, Logan Mitchell. If it’s not pride, then swallow your fear.” She looked over to Cole and whispered, “I did. It was the best thing I ever could have done.”

Logan glanced at the other man in the room, and the look on Cole’s face as he stared back at his wife made Logan—

Envious?

“You’re right. You’re both right. I have a few meetings, and then I’ll go and track him down.”

Rachel practically squealed as she bounced up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “See? Family can be a good thing! We just did a good thing, right? And we’re family. Now, make up you two, so Cole can ask you something.”

Logan frowned over at his brother.

“Go on,” Rachel urged.

Shaking their heads, they both grumbled out a pathetic excuse of, “I’m sorry
,
”
and then Rachel patted his arm and moved around the desk to go and stand by Cole.

Taking her husband’s hand in hers, they both looked over at him, Rachel grinning and Cole looking as serious as ever.

“Okay, ask him.”

“Rachel,” Cole warned as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to right now.

“You told me you wanted to ask him as soon as we knew, but you both had a fight, and—”

“Rachel?” Cole interrupted.

“Yes, dear?”

“Why don’t
you
ask him?”

Logan stood there, looking back and forth between the pair, and when Rachel turned and placed her hands on her belly, Logan felt a genuine smile spread across his face.

“Will you please be one of our baby’s guardians? You know, in case—”

“Don’t say it,” Logan grumbled quickly, raising a hand. Then, he laughed out loud. “Congratulations, you two! But are you crazy? Me? Are you sure?”

“No, not really,” Cole replied dryly.

Rachel whacked him in the chest. “Yes. We wanted both of our brothers.”

Logan looked over at Cole, extremely moved by the gesture he never would have expected, and when his brother finally smiled, he felt their relationship shift back to where it belonged. The only thing that was missing was the one thing that he’d driven away.

“Then, I’d be honored.”

As Cole hugged his radiant wife to his side, he glanced over at Logan and mouthed,
We good?

Logan tipped his chin in agreement as his mind began spinning—spinning, planning, and plotting his next move. It all revolved around one thing—getting Tate back into his life.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Three and a—fuck, something hours later, and I still can’t stop thinking about him
, Tate thought as he stared at the fan rotating slowly above him. Nothing would have been odd about that, except that his fan was turned off. Yep, the alcohol was doing its job, and he was nice and buzzed.

Lying on his back, he picked up his cell phone from his bare chest and stared at the screen.
Still nothing.
No calls of outrage from the family and not one call or text from that asshole telling me how sorry he is.

Well, fuck him
, Tate thought, dropping the phone back to where it had been, as he lifted the bottle of Cuervo to his lips.
Actually, don’t fuck him. He’d like it too much
, Tate told himself just as his phone vibrated.

Picking it up, he made out the name and text he’d been waiting for. Swiping open the message, he stared at the two words on his screen and felt his mouth fall open. Twisting around and sitting up way too fast for his head, Tate continued to stare at the screen.

That arrogant fuck
. Instead of the two words he’d expected—I’m sorry—there, staring back at him, was,
I’m coming.

Tate glared at the phone as if the man who had typed it would be able to see. Placing the bottle down on the floor beside him, he typed back.

You’re not coming here.

Logan was in for a rude surprise if he thought Tate was going to let him in, and an even ruder one if he thought he was going to come in any way, shape, or form near him until he apologized.

Logan: Be ready.

“Unbelievable,” Tate sputtered, reaching down for the tequila.

Fuck you.

Not ten seconds later, there was a loud pounding on the door that startled him as his phone lit up. Looking down at it, Tate read a reply that made his buzzed brain take notice and his traitorous cock stiffen.

Logan: No, Tate. I’m gonna fuck you.

“Open the door!” Logan called out.

Tate stood, making his way—
one foot in front of the other
—to the door. “Go away, Logan. I don’t wanna talk to you,” Tate called out, leaning against the wood as he raised the bottle back to his lips.

“That’s too damn bad because I have a lot to say to you.”

Bringing the bottle down by his leg, Tate closed his eyes. “Then, say it.”

There was a long pause, and then Logan’s voice, softer this time, vibrated through the door. “This morning at my office—”

“Yes,
Lo-gan
—” Tate half-sang through the door.

“Are you drinking?”

Again, Tate repeated, “Yes,
Lo-gan
.”

“Open the door, and say that to me,” Logan demanded, calmer this time around.

Tate rolled his shoulders along the door until he was resting his left side up against it. “And why would I do that?”

He heard a thump and wondered if Logan had used his fist or his head to hit the door. “Open the fucking door, Tate.”

“Apologize,” Tate countered, determined to hear the words.

“Open the door, and I will,” Logan argued back.