Trust (Temptation #3)

  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?”

  Then Tate’s face broke out into a massive grin. “You didn’t call the kid Ignacio, did you?”

  “No,” Rachel said with a laugh, gazing over at Cole. “We decided Benjamin was a better fit after all.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  A couple of days later, it was Thanksgiving, and with Rachel still in the hospital and Tate’s family all over the place, they’d decided they would spend a nice, quiet evening together—or so Logan had thought.

  It had just turned five o’clock when he looked down at the text he’d just received from Tate. He’d gone out a couple of hours ago, and all he’d said was that he wouldn’t be long.

  Secretive shit.

  Tate: We don’t have plans tonight, do we?

  Logan typed back: I thought we agreed to stay in.

  He settled back into the couch, picked up the book he’d been reading, and started again. He was halfway down the second page when his phone lit up.

  Tate: Change of plans. Be ready in twenty minutes.

  Logan frowned down at the text and wrote back: Be ready for what?

  Not a minute later his phone vibrated, and he smirked at Tate’s response.

  Tate: Don’t argue with me. Twenty minutes. Be ready.

  Oh, I do love you all bossy, Logan thought as he put his book beside him on the couch and sat up.

  Okay. You have my attention. What should I wear?

  He was on his feet and heading to the shower when the phone vibrated in his hand, and on the screen was a message that had him coming to a stop.

  Tate: Doesn’t matter. You won’t be wearing it for long.

  Logan groaned, and when the phone rang, he answered it and brought it to his ear. “You’re being very demanding, Mr. Morrison.”

  “You now have fifteen minutes,” Tate informed him in that spine-tingling way he had, all low and raspy.

  Logan closed his eyes, imagining him there in the bathroom with him.

  “Oh, and Logan?”

  “Yeah?” he breathed out on a sigh.

  “I haven’t even started to be demanding…yet.”

  And before he could say a word, Tate hung up.

  * * *

  Tate was nervous.

  As he stood inside the silent space where he’d been waiting for the last thirty minutes, he looked out at the street. He was fiddling with the set of keys in his hands, trying to get his heart to calm the hell down. It’d been racing ever since he’d ended the call with Logan.

  The snow was gently falling to the sidewalk, and with every new layer, it hid the footsteps of the people who’d passed by earlier. There weren’t that many out tonight, though, being that it was Thanksgiving, and he liked the solitude that seemed to have taken over the usually busy part of town.

  He spotted the black car he’d hired pulling onto the street, and as the headlights brightened its way, he stuffed the keys into the pocket of his black dress pants. Running a hand through his hair, he watched as the car stopped in front of the windows he was standing by.

  When the door opened, he held his breath, waiting for that exact moment. And there it is, he thought as Logan stepped out of the car—that moment when he would first see him.

  As always, Logan looked sexy and sophisticated. He was by far the most attractive man Tate had ever seen, and all he could see of him was that long, black coat of his and a charcoal scarf with light-blue and black checkers on it.

  The driver was saying something to him, and when Logan reached out to shake his hand, Tate saw black leather gloves on his hands.

  Oh yeah. He dressed up for me.

  As the driver got back in the car, Logan finally saw him through the window. He cocked his head to the side and let his quizzical eyes move over him from behind his glasses, and Tate wondered what he was thinking. When he pointed his finger toward the front doors, Logan inclined his head and then made his way over to them.

  Tate took the three steps up to the entry, and as he unlocked the door and pushed it open, he knew that it was time—time to invite Logan inside forever.

  * * *

  As Tate opened the door to the bar they’d looked at the other day, Logan ran his eyes over the gorgeous man in front of him, torn between being turned on and curious as hell about the outfit he was wearing. He had on a rich, burgundy dress shirt, a tailored, black vest and tie, pressed pants, and polished shoes—and he looked fucking amazing.

  “Come in,” Tate said, his voice low and inviting.

  He stepped inside and started to undo the buttons of his coat when he heard Tate shut the door and lock it. Then he was behind him, running his hands over his shoulders and down to squeeze his biceps.

  “You made it okay.”

  “I did. The driver you sent…he was very nice.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. It was my turn to collect you for a change,” Tate told him, and Logan smiled at the sentiment. “You look…”

  Logan caught a hint of Tate’s cologne and closed his eyes to take it in. He smelled unbelievably good. “Yes?”

  “Sexy as hell,” Tate’s voice was hoarse in his ear.

  As he came around beside him, Logan opened his eyes and watched him make his way toward the bar, which he then moved behind. His eyes roamed the open space before he walked down the stairs and removed his gloves. He could smell something delicious cooking and wondered where exactly it was coming from since he couldn’t see much in the low-lit area.

  There were several candles along the wall separating the two main spaces, and there were more lining the bar, lighting the area with a muted glow. As he got closer, he noticed two tumblers on top of the bar and smiled.

  “You planning to get me drunk tonight?”

  Tate turned to the back of the bar, and as Logan stopped behind the lone stool in the place, he put his gloves on the counter. The silence in the building was ramping up the sexual tension humming between the two of them. Then Tate glanced over his shoulder at him, and Logan saw his eyes trail down the charcoal suit, light-blue shirt, and tie he was wearing, licking his lips as he went—it was obvious he approved.

  Logan shrugged out of his coat, laid it across the counter, and then took a seat before zeroing in on Tate’s firm ass. This entire scenario felt very reminiscent of...me and my hot bartender.

  “Excuse me? Bartender?” he asked.

  When Tate turned, he saw a white fucking towel tucked into the side of his pants. Tate knew exactly what he was doing here. He’d set the stage perfectly, and as he came over to stand in front of him, he flashed that wide, friendly smile of his. Although, Logan noted, tonight, it was packed full of sexual invitation as opposed to the naïve charm it had held all those months ago.

  “What can I get you to drink?”

  Logan felt his entire body react to the question. His heart started to race; his cock took immediate notice. And when Tate pulled the towel from his pants and started to wipe the bar, he reminded himself, I already have this guy. I live with him. So squash the fucking nerves of trying to get him, Mitchell, and enjoy him.

  “I don’t know what I feel like tonight. Why don’t you surprise me? ” he suggested, and when Tate lifted the towel and started to slide it back and forth between his hands, Loga
n followed the gesture then saw a gleam in those brown eyes he loved.

  “Surprise you, huh?”

  “Yes,” he said. “You can’t go wrong. I’m positive that I’d be open to trying anything with you.”

  Tate gave him a mock frown and stilled his hands. “Sir, I’m talking about your drink. I’m not sure what you are talking about.”

  Putting his arms on the counter, Logan pushed up with his toes on the rung of his stool to get closer to the teasing flirt opposite him. “Oh, would you look at that. I’ve shocked and scared the man behind the bar…”

  Tate placed his hands on the edge of the wood and moved in close so they were practically nose to nose. The one-time conversation from long ago was now taking the turn Logan had wished for that very night.

  “No, you haven’t. I’m just trying to decide how best to shut your inappropriate mouth.”

  “Well,” Logan said, his lips twitching at the heat swirling in Tate’s eyes. “Alcohol is certainly one way. Food, which I can smell somewhere in here, is another. But…I’m not very hungry for food, and I know a much more pleasurable way to fill my mouth.”

  As Tate angled his head and teased his lips over Logan’s top one, he had a hard time staying where he was. Hard being the operative fucking word. The guy sure was testing his self-restraint.

  “Do you hit on everyone you meet?” Tate asked and then—fuck yes—nipped his bottom lip.

  “Not anymore.”

  “But you used to?”

  “A long time ago. A whole other life ago.”

  Tate smiled against his mouth and straightened, their lips parting. “So that’s why I’ve never seen you around here before.”

  Logan lowered himself back to his seat and shrugged as nonchalantly as he could. “Could be, or maybe it’s because you’re new here.”

  “You’re right, I am new. But then again, so are you.”

  “Well, I used to frequent this one place. You may have heard of it—After Hours.”

  Tate’s mouth curved up as he leaned a hip against the bar. “Yeah, I’ve heard of it. You say you used to, huh? What happened?”

  Logan raised a hand to his chin and stroked it as he answered, “I got involved with one of the bartenders.”

  “Oh,” Tate said with a false grimace and shook his head. “That happens, I suppose. Probably why it’s not allowed here.”

  “Is that right?” Logan asked, looking around. “And where is here, exactly?”

  “You mean you don’t know?” Tate asked. “The owner wanted a catchy name. One that was…specific to him.”

  “He did, did he?”

  “Yeah, but it’s a secret right now because he was only given the keys this morning.”

  A massive smile stretched across Logan’s mouth at Tate’s excitement as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and put them between them on the counter.

  “I can keep a secret.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I should tell anyone yet who isn’t totally committed to being involved.”

  Logan felt his breath catch in his throat as he waited for Tate to continue, hoping he was asking him what he thought he was. Ever since Tate had mentioned his idea for this, the dream he’d always wanted since he was old enough to know he had one—Logan had wanted to be a part of it. He just didn’t know how much until right that second.

  “I mean…” Tate started again. “He wouldn’t have to be hands-on to be invested, and I don’t want—”

  Logan cocked his head to the side and asked quietly, “What don’t you want?”

  Tate reached for the keys and ran his fingers over them, making Logan think he was more nervous than he was letting on.

  Logan placed his hands over the top of his, stilling them, and asked again, “What don’t you want?”

  “I don’t want him to think he has to say yes.”

  Logan stared at the man across from him, the one who’d stolen his heart months ago, and knew that this was their way—their unique way to settle down.

  “Ask me,” Logan encouraged.

  Tate chewed on his bottom lip then locked eyes with him, direct as always. “Do you want to be a part of this…with me?”

  “As in?” Logan asked. He wanted to make sure he wasn’t misunderstanding what Tate was asking.

  “As in be partners with me.”

  Logan was about to speak when Tate rushed on.

  “I don’t want money or anything like that. I already have the loan and down payment all in place. I just want you to do this with me. Be a part of it with me.”

  Logan rested his elbows on the bar and steepled his hands in front of his mouth, eyeing Tate carefully before he said, “I don’t know, Tate. It all depends…”

  “On?”

  “Well, I’m not very good at being silent, and I definitely don’t want to be a hands-off kind of partner with you. And there’s one other thing.”

  Logan reached for his tie and pulled it from his vest. He ran his finger down the back of it before tugging him forward.

  “I still don’t know the name of our place.”

  Tate gave him a wicked smirk as he put his lips to the corner of his and flicked his tongue over it, whispering, “The Popped Cherry.”

  “The Popped Cherry?” Logan repeated, loving the witty reminder of Tate’s first time with him. “And you think I’m fucking dirty,” he said right before he yanked Tate close to taste his tempting tongue.

  God, he’d been nervous tonight when the driver had shown up and requested he go with him. He hadn’t known what Tate was up to. All he had known was that, if he wanted him somewhere special, he was going to be there. In fact, Logan wanted him to be a part of every decision he made from here on out, and when he pulled his lips away, he also knew he needed to tell him that. Before he could open his mouth, though, Tate spoke.

  “I love you,” he said, and as Logan looked at him, he reached for his hands. “I had no idea when you first sat down across from me that night—no idea what I’d been missing,” Tate whispered. “It was you.”

  Logan’s eyes started to fill with tears, and he blinked, trying to get them to stop as Tate continued to look at him as if he were his whole entire world—he hoped that was the case anyway, because it was never more apparent than in that moment that Tate was his.

  “What are you thinking?” Tate asked. “Tell me.”

  Logan stood from the stool and placed his lips to the corner of his mouth. “Hmm, well. What I was thinking…just might terrify you.”

  Tate stilled against him, and then his body shuddered on a ragged breath as he stroked his fingers down his jawline.

  Logan wound his arms around his neck and held on as Tate kissed a path along his cheek to his ear, where he nuzzled in against his neck. His curls brushed against the side of Logan’s face as he repeated the words he had said back when this had all begun.

  “Then, Logan, terrify me.”

  And with those four words, Logan knew he had found home.

  The Popped Cherry

  2 oz. vodka

  1 oz. chocolate liqueur

  Float the grenadine on top

  If you want it creamy (which we know you do) add a little Baileys.

  Note: We have to give a big shout out to Stacy Wilkerson for helping us come up with this deliciously dirty concocktion.

  Special Thanks

  When I first sat down to write the story Try, I wondered if my readers would take a chance and follow me in this new direction. I was nervous but excited to jump into a genre I loved to read myself. So off I went into the great unknown—and I took you all with me!

  Since then, I haven’t looked back!

  Logan and Tate's journey is one I have thoroughly enjoyed writing. These two men have been nothing but a blast. From Logan’s lack of a filter to Tate’s honest and forthright nature, helping these two find each other has been one of the highlights of my writing career.

  Having said all of this, it never could’ve happened without the amazing
team I’ve had working alongside me. Not only are they some of the greatest women I know, I am happy to call them all friends.

  Candace ~ I literally could not have written this series without you. It really is as simple as that, but I can’t possibly leave it there. From the very beginning to the last word on Trust’s final page, you’ve been with me and the guys every step of the way. You kept Logan’s mouth in line when need be and Tate’s penchant for being a stubborn ass right on point. Your critiques are brutal, your feedback invaluable, but most of all, your friendship is essential. Don’t ever change.

  Mickey ~ My awesome editor. You are wonderful! Not only as an editor, but as a person and friend. Your positive attitude and outlook on life are truly inspiring, and your work is fantastic. You are a total rock star, and I can’t wait to meet you in a few months’ time. I feel extremely fortunate to have found you, and I’m so happy you took this journey with me.

  Judy ~ You have worked with me on a couple of projects now, but I think this is the first one where you told me that I needed to go back and take someone’s pants off. I appreciate someone who can write that as a serious note in the comments section! Thank you for dealing with my messy chapter reads and the frustration of waiting days for the next part of the story to come out of my brain.

  Jen ~ One of my biggest L&T advocates EVER!!! I love the way you embraced my guys from day one, and ever since then, watching you fall more in love with them has been a total pleasure. You run my street team like a well-oiled machine, right alongside your partner in crime, Donner, and I am so fortunate to call you a friend. Thank you for beta reading each installment of The Temptation Series. Your opinion is one I highly respect and value.

  Donna (otherwise known as Donner) ~ My mission here is complete, and you know exactly what I mean when I say that. Getting you to a) Read an m/m series and b) actually enjoy it is an accomplishment in itself. I fought tooth and nail to get you a certain someone’s redemption, and by golly, I think I did it! THAT deserves a hug the next time I see you!! Just sayin’.