Take (Temptation Series) (38 page)

Logan took his chin between his thumb and forefinger and held him in place as he lowered his mouth so their lips were touching. “Smartass,” he whispered, and Tate’s eyes closed as Logan pressed a kiss to his mouth.

He lost himself right there in the booth as Logan’s tongue flicked over his lips, and it wasn’t until he heard a cough from the other side of the table that Tate realized someone had sat down.

Robbie.

“This is almost as hot as you two grinding on the dance floor last night.”

Logan lifted his head, and Tate looked across to see the mischievous barista smiling at him like a cat that got the cream.

“Okay, Robbie. Move out, would you?”

“Oh, come on, Logan. It was just getting good,” he whined. Then he lowered his voice as if imparting a secret. “And he obviously doesn’t mind an audience.”

“
He
can hear you,” Tate reminded the little shit. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

Robbie chewed on a piece of bright green gum and nodded. “Yep. I’m doing it. I came over to—”

“Take our order? So thoughtful,” Logan ended for him even though it was obvious by Robbie’s expression that that was
not
what he’d been about to say. “Want to get out of my seat?”

“How about you sit down beside me?” he invited as if Tate weren’t even there. Robbie’s habit of zeroing in on Logan and choosing to forget the rest of the world existed was surfacing yet again.

Tate watched Logan unbutton his jacket and noticed he held both his
and
Robbie’s attention as he peeled it off and then threw it across Robbie’s lap.

Logan then turned and looked at him. “Mind scooting over?”

Tate went to move over in the booth, and Logan sat beside him, placing a hand on his thigh under the table.

“Not too far.”

Tate swallowed slowly when he felt Logan’s hand squeeze his thigh. Then he turned back to Robbie, who was watching the both of them with an expression halfway between jealousy and arousal.

“Robbie?” Logan said.

Robbie’s eyes found Logan’s, and Tate knew what he was feeling. Poor kid. Logan was…potent.

“Can we have a double espresso and an extra nutty hazelnut latte?”

Tate turned his head in Logan’s direction, surprised that he remembered his drink. Then he saw a smirk hit his lips.

“My guy likes nuts.”

I’m going to kill him,
Tate thought right before Robbie opened his mouth and made his murderous intentions shift to him.

“Then he’s got the perfect set to play with.”

Tate faced the punk who was laughing at him across the table. Then, calm as you please, Logan announced, “All right, Robbie. Time to leave.”

He got out of the booth and placed Logan’s jacket across the seat, but before he left, he looked them over once more. With the way Tate was glowering at him, he was surprised Robbie was still upright.

“It’s both, right? I can’t imagine someone as grumpy as
you
always receiving.”

“Robbie,” Logan growled.

Then Tate shocked the hell out of himself. “With Logan, I’d take it
any
way he wanted.”

“Holy shit, Tate,” Logan muttered, and Tate was more than satisfied with the longing look that came over Robbie’s face.

That’s right
, Tate thought.
No one will
ever
doubt who Logan is to me.

“Coffee would be great right about now,” Tate told him, feeling quite satisfied with himself. “Thanks.”

Robbie huffed and then walked away.

Tate believed that ninety percent of the guy was fun and games and the other ten percent had a massive crush on Logan.

He turned in the booth and realized that he couldn’t really blame Robbie. Logan was…
Logan.
If he’d had him once and then never again, he’d probably act the same way Robbie did
.

Then Tate remembered why he was there, and suddenly, his confidence took a nosedive. He frowned when Logan turned to him, and when he placed an arm along the back of the booth, Tate told him, “Spit it out.”

Logan blinked at the command. Then his fingers touched the collar of his T-shirt.

“Logan, spit it out. I’ve been a fucking nutcase all morning.”

The slight quirk of Logan’s mouth irritated him.

“Do
not
joke about nuts again or I will kick you in your
‘perfect’
ones.”

When he added the air quotes, Logan started laughing. “You really do get kind of grumpy.”

“With you? Who wouldn’t? You woke me up then told me we needed to talk. Today. But not over the phone. In person.” Tate paused and then shoved his face in close to Logan’s. “You’re enough to make
anyone
grumpy.”

Logan’s blue gaze remained on his as he said softly, “That’s not very nice.”

“I’m not feeling very nice. I’m feeling fucking paranoid, and I hate that. What’s going on?”

Logan reached up and touched his fingers to his cheek before he pulled him in and kissed him hard on the mouth.

“It’s about the function on Friday.”

Tate’s mind starting racing. “Okay. Did you need me to stay home?”

“No,” Logan said quickly and then sighed. “There’s no easy way to say this.”

“Then just fucking say it,” Tate finally demanded, his patience gone, and Logan did as he’d asked—and said it.

“Chris will be there.”

29
.

Logan sat in Tate’s living room and waited.

He couldn't have said why his palms were sweaty, but they were.

Tonight was a big deal in the course of their future and relationship—
and fucking Chris Walker is going to be there.
He needed to stop thinking of it like that.

Tonight, he was introducing Tate to his world. To his clients and business associates as his partner, the man in his life.
That
was how he had to think of it.

As the thought settled, he was brought out of his head by the bedroom door opening and Tate stepping into view.
And holy shit what a view it is.

Dressed in a perfectly pressed shirt with a black bow tie hanging loosely around his neck, Tate rendered him absolutely speechless. He was playing with his cuff link under the tailored black jacket that was hugging his shoulders, and as Logan stood to go to him, he knew he’d never seen anyone more breathtaking in his life.

He walked over to where Tate had stopped. When he reached him, Tate let go of his wrist and looked up, and that sexy fucking smile of his curled his mouth—the same one that had caught Logan’s eye the first night they’d met.

“You like?” he asked with a glint in his eyes.

Oh, yes…I definitely like.
But
Logan said nothing as he raised a hand and gestured for Tate to turn. Tate’s brow rose, but then he slowly began to pivot.

The flawless cut of the jacket fit Tate’s lean body to perfection, and his pants were so closely fitted that they made Logan want to touch him—all over.

When he finally completed a full three-sixty, he asked again, “You like?”

“Very much,” Logan told him. His voice was low and full of reverence as he reached out and took either end of the bow tie. He crossed one side over the other and concentrated on the task at hand.

“So I won’t embarrass you tonight?” Tate asked.

Even though he masked it with a chuckle, Logan knew that, somewhere underneath the humor, Tate was genuinely concerned about that.

He tucked one end of the material under the bow he’d formed, and then took either side and tightened it. Once it was straightened, he said with the utmost sincerity, “I will never be prouder than I will be tonight with you.”

* * *

Tate looked into Logan’s eyes, which were free of his glasses, and saw that he was telling the truth. He really
was
proud to have him by his side, and that made Tate’s heart do some somersaults, because Logan was just…
wow
.

Logan always looked sophisticated. He oozed charm. But tonight, he’d taken it to a whole new level. He too was dressed in a tux, but his white shirt was punctuated with black buttons down the center and at the cuffs, which he could see peeking out from under his tailored jacket. He had
at least
a three-day stubble that was perfectly trimmed along his jawline and around his full lips, and as he ran a hand over Logan’s lapel, Tate realized he’d never felt prouder himself.  

“You look unbelievable.”

Logan’s mouth quirked at the side and he asked, “In a good way, right?”

Tate did another once over muttering, “In an out-of-this-world kind of way. Jesus, Logan.”

Logan brought a hand up to his shoulder. Tate turned his head to see him brush a piece of lint from his jacket and then turned back to find eyes full of desire and admiration.

“There,” Logan told him. “Now you’re perfect.”

Tate smiled right before Logan cupped the back of his neck and brought their mouths together. He moaned at the contact and tried to keep himself from sliding his hands into Logan’s styled hair.

In the end, he grabbed either side of his suit jacket and opened his mouth. As soon as Logan’s tongue touched his, Tate’s temperature spiked. It was as if touching Logan heated him from the inside out, not to mention started his blood humming through his veins until it pooled in his cock and made it hard as a steel fucking rod.

Holy shit.
The power vibrating from Logan’s body excited every part of him.

Gathering some kind of control, Tate pulled his mouth free and shook his head. “
We
have somewhere to go, and you have to be someone important, Mr. Mitchell.”

Logan took a step back and agreed, “Yes, we do.” He held his hand out, and Tate took it as they walked to his front door.

“Logan?”

Logan turned his head toward him. “Hmm?”

“I’m also very proud to be with you tonight.”

* * *

Logan pulled his Audi up to the valet of the Waldorf Astoria, and as he stepped out of the car and saw Tate climb out the passenger’s side, he wondered in the back of his mind how tonight was going to play out.

After he’d told Tate about Chris, he’d expected him to be pissed off about it, but all he’d said was, “That’s what you were worried about? If you ever make me wait and worry like that again, I’m going to fucking hurt you.” Then Tate had sat there, drank his coffee, and asked if
he
was okay with the thought of seeing Chris.

Logan thought about his own answer of, “I’m not sure,” and he still felt that way. He wasn’t sure if he was okay with it, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He just hoped that Cole didn’t recognize his old ‘study partner.’

Buttoning his suit jacket, he watched Tate do the same and then made his way around the front of the car.
Ahh, who knew Tate could pull off a tux so well?
He looked like he was born to wear one.

When Logan stopped beside him, Tate asked, “Ready?”

The moment felt full circle for him.

It had only been weeks ago that he’d been asking the same thing of Tate as he’d faced his fears, and now here Tate was, helping him face his own.

Logan winked, and when Tate held his hand out to him, all of his worries disappeared.

He slipped his palm into Tate’s and moved in closer to whisper, “In case I get busy in there and don’t say it, thank you.”

“For?” Tate asked as his eyes softened.

Logan squeezed his fingers, and as they started walking inside, he answered, “Always being willing to
try
.”

* * *

Tate scanned the opulent room and tried not to feel overwhelmed.

As soon as they’d stepped inside the banquet hall, Logan had been pulled away by his paralegal Sherry, and he’d told him that he’d be back as soon as possible. He’d known he would more than likely spend the night in the corner on his own, so it wasn’t like it was a surprise, but at the same time, it left him standing in a room full of—

“Tate!”

Strangers?

He turned in the direction of his name and was more than relieved to see Rachel Madison waving her arm and making her way through several people in his direction.