Cole’s eyes continued to shift from him to Chris, and they finally came back to him. “Good. I trust you got the files you need to go through with Mr. Walker.”

Becoming more irritated by the second, Logan glared at Cole and bit out the word, “Yes.”

“Good. And, Mr. Walker, do you have any questions?”

Logan wondered if Chris would be dumb enough to try anything with Cole, but he should’ve known better. It seemed as if his main purpose today was to provoke.

“No. So far, Mr. Mitchell is handling me just the way I like.”

Never had Logan seen Cole lose his professionalism, but as Chris’s words sank in, he thought he saw his brother’s fist clench by his side. Deciding that it was best to move Cole along, Logan walked forward and placed a hand on his arm, turning him away from the asshole behind him.

“Everything is fine,” he lied, walking him back to the door.

When they got there, Logan opened it for him. Cole’s brow furrowed, the look bordering between annoyance and concern.

“I’m fine,” Logan said, trying to reassure him. “We just have to run through the forms, then he’ll sign, and everything will be ready to go.”

Cole did not seem convinced, but without any more words, he left, and Logan closed the door. He stared at the back of it for several seconds before he pulled his shit together and faced the biggest mistake of his life. Chris was watching him, his hands in his pockets, and Logan ran his eyes down over him. As he brought them back up to collide with the conceited bastard opposite him, a sneer curled his lips.

“I don’t know what delusions you’re under, but the day I left you in your loft, this poisonous thing we had was over.” Logan strolled across the room, gaining more confidence with every step he took, and when he stopped directly in front of Chris, he kept his eyes locked on the man he’d once stupidly thought himself in love with.

How fucking wrong was I?

“And just so we’re crystal clear,” he continued, “it wasn’t the way you threw me around that got me off. It was the misguided belief that you gave enough of a shit to know what I liked. But you know what really drives me out of my mind, Chris? What I can’t seem to get enough of? When the guy I love is strong enough to stand up beside me and hold my fucking hand but is also strong enough to pin me down and pound me into my mattress.” Logan gave him his best “fuck you” look and stepped around him to take a seat. “So, if you’re done trying to make my cock remember that it once—a very long time ago—wanted you, sit your ass down so we can go through this file or get the fuck out of my office.”

Chapter Seven

Later that afternoon, Logan looked out of his office window, thinking back over the morning. Ever since Chris had signed on the dotted line and left with the documents for his partner to do the same, he’d had a feeling of unease churning in his stomach.

Once he’d given the ultimatum for him to either sit down or get out, Chris had sat, played along, and done as Logan had demanded. It wasn’t until he’d been leaving that a look flashed in his eye that made Logan wary as hell—Chris appeared challenged, and his, “I’ll be seeing you soon, Mr. Mitchell,” as he departed only further solidified it.

It was just his fucking luck that, right as he was getting serious with someone, Christopher Walker had to show up and try to ruin it. Maybe this was karma and he somehow deserved it. He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, there was no way in hell he was going to let his past anywhere near his present.

It was just turning five, and he was about to pack up and head home when his cell phone started to buzz on the desk. Turning to grab it, he felt a smile cross his lips, and any discomfort he’d been feeling vanished. There, lighting up his day in the way only he could, was the one person he knew he’d do anything to protect—Tate.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Morrison.”

Tate’s warm laughter filled his ear, and Logan could picture his gorgeous face in an instant. “Afternoon, counselor.”

Logan closed his eyes as the deep voice traveled through the phone. “Oh, so I’m ‘counselor’ today, huh? Why? Did you get in trouble and need one?”

“No,” Tate said. “I never get into trouble.”

“Is that right? Well, would you like to?” Logan asked as he relaxed back in his chair.

The jingle of keys came through the phone before Tate’s voice was back, telling him, “I don’t know. It’s hard to find a good lawyer these days. Makes me think I should play it straight.”

Logan couldn’t help himself with that comment. There was just no way. “You definitely should not play it straight, Mr. Morrison. But I understand if you’re not comfortable with my expertise. Maybe we should meet up and we can discuss what you need in more detail.”

Tate’s chuckle had every other thought vanishing from Logan’s mind. “You might be right. Maybe we should set something up.”

A pleased hum of agreement left Logan’s throat. “I’m about to leave my office for the day, and I haven’t eaten yet. But I always find that meetings at restaurants make it difficult to really get down to the hard facts. So perhaps it would be best to meet somewhere quieter.”

A silence stretched between them, and even though they were miles apart, the sexual tension thrumming across the airwaves had Logan anticipating the next words that would come from Tate’s delicious mouth—and he didn’t disappoint.

“Did you have somewhere in mind…sir?”

Oh fucking hell, with the ‘sir’ again. That teasing fucker knew he’d stumbled on something that made him crazy, because that word coming from Tate’s mouth was so much more effective than in a text. Logan coughed, clearing his throat a little, before rattling off his address as if they’d never met.

“I think I can be there in”—there was a rustling sound, Tate checking the time on his phone no doubt—“twenty minutes? I can stop and pick up some food on the way if you’d like.”

Who gives a shit about food? I want—

“What would you like to eat?” Tate interrupted in a tone that screamed he knew exactly what Logan wanted. “I mean, since you’re agreeing to meet with me after work, the least I can do is bring you some food.”

Logan turned his chair around and bent to pick his briefcase up. He wasn’t about to wait another second before he got his ass down to the car and on his way over to eat his meal.

“Surprise me,” he suggested as he stood to switch the small desk lamp off and make his way to the door. “Just know that, tonight, I plan to savor my meal. So I hope you’re not in a rush and can show some patience.”

The rumble of Tate’s motorcycle roaring to life came through the phone, and Logan felt his cock stiffen at the visual of him on it.

“I’ll be on my best behavior. I already told you I don’t go looking for trouble, counselor. Sometimes, it just finds me.”

With that, Tate ended the call and Logan punched the button for the elevator a little harder than necessary. When it arrived, he got inside so he could hurry and find Tate.

Tate arrived before Logan, as planned, and took the elevator up to his floor. Sometime in the near future, they really did need to exchange keys, but for now, this suited him perfectly. He’d picked up some lasagna on the way over, knowing Logan’s preference for Italian food, and was now waiting on his lawyer.

When he’d finished up with Rachel around lunchtime, they’d grabbed something to eat and then he’d headed home to research the areas she’d mentioned and the licenses he needed to start looking into. That soon brought to mind his thoughts from the other day, of sitting down in a meeting with Logan, and he wondered again what it would be like to see him in “work mode.”