Tate glanced at Logan, who was looking heavenward probably hoping the night would hurry up and end, but he was out of luck. As far as he could tell, Logan’s mother seemed determined to spend time with her son.

Tate had to admit, she was certainly more accepting of them than his mother had been, so that earned her points in his mind straight off the bat.

“That’s a good question,” he answered. “A few months. Right, Logan?”

“Yeah. About five now,” Logan supplied.

“Wow.” Feels like I’ve known him forever.

“You shocked you put up with me for that long?” Logan joked.

“Hardly. I’m just surprised it’s not more. It feels like more.”

Almost as if he’d forgotten his mother was there, Logan sat forward and took his hand where he had it resting on the table. “It does.”

“Aww, you two are adorable,” Evelyn gushed. “It makes me so happy.”

“Oh, God,” Logan said.

“What?” she asked with a romantic gleam in her eyes. “Am I not allowed to be happy that my son’s in love?”

As the waiter appeared with their drinks, Logan immediately picked his own up and took a sip. “This night keeps getting better and better. Keep those coming please.”

The waiter nodded and scurried off, leaving them to get back to their discussion. Tate smiled over at Logan’s mother, who was looking between the two of them.

When her eyes stopped on him, she boldly asked, “How’d you two meet?”

“Would you stop with the twenty questions already?” Logan asked.

Tate found it extremely interesting that Logan seemed almost embarrassed about this part of the story.

“Oh, stop being such a bore, Logan. Plus, I wasn’t asking you. I was asking Tate. What are you so worried about? Did you hunt the poor guy down or something?”

That was it. Tate couldn’t hold back his laughter anymore, and the shocked expression that crossed Logan’s face at his hilarity didn’t help.

“Don’t tell me…” Evelyn continued, picking her glass of white wine up. “He did, didn’t he?”

Logan pointed a finger at him. “Shut it.”

But he wasn’t about to keep quiet. “Let’s just say he was very persistent.”

“In other words, I was right. He’s always been like that, even as a kid. If he saw something he wanted, he went after it with the tenacity of a bulldog.”

Logan took another gulp of his drink.

“To be fair, he had to be a bit more forceful than usual. I’d never considered dating a man, let alone wanted one before I met him.”

Logan practically choked on the liquor he’d just swallowed, and Tate gave his most charming smile as he raised his glass to his lips.

“Really?” Logan said as if he couldn’t believe he’d just said that.

Tate lowered his drink back to the table and nodded. “Really.”

“Good evening, and welcome to the Shanghai Terrace. My name’s Julie, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. Do you know what you would like to start with?”

For the most part, the night went along smoothly, which was a minor miracle.

Logan decided to go all out after much coaxing from Evelyn and ordered the most expensive meal on the menu. The food was delicious, and after several drinks, Logan reluctantly admitted that the company wasn’t too bad either.

He’d just excused himself, deciding to take a time-out to get the final round from the bar. All night, he’d been wary, waiting for the proverbial ball to drop, and he was both shocked and pleasantly surprised it didn’t seem it would happen.

Maybe she is turning over a new leaf.

Resting up against the bar, he didn’t see Tate approach until he felt a warm body behind him and heard a low voice whisper in his ear.

“Hey there, Hot Rod. Wanna come home with me later?”

A wide grin split Logan’s lips at the change to his childhood nickname and he turned so he was only inches away from Tate. With one of his forearms on the bar top, he reached out with the other to play with the buttonholes on his jacket.

“Hot Rod?”

Tate’s eyes lazily ran down his body, and when they came back up to his, the desire in them was obvious. “Yeah. I’m thinking that fits you better these days than Hot Wheels. Though you do still like fast cars.”

Logan licked his upper lip, and when Tate’s eyes followed his tongue, he cocked his head to the side. “Says the one who rides fast bikes.”

Tate kissed him, and then said, “What can I say? I like sleek, sexy things between my legs. Makes sense since I fucking love having you there.”

Logan placed his hand on Tate’s chest and closed his eyes for a second. “Shit, Tate.”

“You never answered. Want to come home with me?”

When Tate took a step back, Logan opened his eyes. “I’d love to, but I have a staff meeting first thing tomorrow and need several things from home. You could always come back and stay the night with me.”

As the bartender came over with their drinks, Tate shook his head. “Nah, it’s okay. I kind of need to go home and get into my own clothes anyway. Plus, I told Rachel I would meet with her before work with a list of potential areas.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

Logan turned to see their waitress for the evening.

She softly asked, “Are you Mr. Mitchell?”

He nodded at the polite inquiry that also had Tate turning.

With a tight smile, she handed him a small, black bill folder. “Your wife told me she had to leave to catch her plane and that you’d be taking care of the tab for both the dinner and the hotel stay.”

As Logan’s fingers clutched the rectangular folder in his hand, he felt the blood drain from his face and all the sound around him ceased to exist.

No…she couldn’t have…

It wasn’t until he heard Tate’s muffled voice disagreeing with the woman in front of them that he was aware she was waiting for him to respond. Like a robot on autopilot, Logan reached for his wallet, removed a card, and handed it over. All the while, Tate was still talking, saying words he couldn’t quite decipher.

She’d done it again. Not only had she done it to him, but she’d done it in front of Tate.

Logan closed his eyes, willing himself to get a hold on his anger and not let Tate see how much he was fucking hurt. Not like this behavior is unusual for her. This is her “thing.” This is what she does.

She’d accused him tonight of being a hunter, and it was no surprise he’d turned out that way. He’d learned from the best.

“Logan?”

Finally, Tate’s voice broke through as he took his arm and ushered him toward the elevator. He didn’t respond though; he had nothing to say.

What is there to say?

It wasn’t until they were seated in the back of the taxi and Tate had gently touched his thigh that Logan turned his way.

“Hey.”

As Logan stared over at the man seated beside him, he was numb. No matter how many times he told himself not to let her in, she always, always, managed to weasel her way inside to pull this shit again.

When will I fucking learn?

He looked away from Tate, unable to bear the sympathy in those beautiful, brown eyes, and decided to talk. Maybe, that way, the silence wouldn’t suffocate him where he sat.

“When I was a little boy,” he started, staring out at the traffic as they pulled onto the main street. “My mother used to tell me a story about the scorpion and the fox.” He glanced over to Tate and asked, “Have you heard it?”

Tate shook his head and reached for his hand. Logan let him take it, but unlike earlier, there was no sexy flirtation here, no tension buzzing in the cab—just silence as Tate waited for him to continue.

“One day, there was a scorpion, and he was walking along the riverbank, searching for a way to cross. He looked around everywhere, but no matter which way he decided on, he knew it would mean instant death for him. That was until he spotted the fox. Casually, the scorpion walked over to him and struck up a conversation with the animal. He asked him to help him cross the river, but being a cunning and smart animal, the fox told the scorpion, ‘No. Why would I help you? You’ll only end up stinging me and then I’ll drown. Sorry. I just can’t do that.’ The scorpion disagreed profusely, swearing his honest intentions. ‘No, no, you have me all wrong. I’d never do something like that. I need you to help me cross the river. If I sting you and you die, then we both drown. So no, I don’t want to harm you, fox. I merely want us to both get across the river.’”