Trust (Temptation #3)(111)

Tate leaned his forehead against his and said, “I feel like the luckiest person on the planet right now.”

Logan was about to answer, but they were interrupted.

“Hey, you two? Think you could keep your hands off each other for a few minutes to give me a hug for having the most handsome boy in all of Chicago as of thirty minutes ago?”

Logan turned his head and saw Cole standing with his hands spread wide in front of him and a proud-as-hell look on his face.

“A boy?” Logan asked as they both got to their feet.

“Damn right,” Cole boasted, walking over to them. As he embraced him, he asked, “Did you doubt it with my genes running through the child? Our stock produces men.”

Tate reached forward to shake Cole’s hand, and he pulled him into a hug.

“Glad you got here in time, Morrison.”

“Me too.”

“Where is the rest of the clan?” Logan asked as they followed Cole through the large doors.

“They’re on their way. Rachel didn’t want to call anyone until he was here. It was the only way to keep them out of the delivery room.”

“You called me,” Logan pointed out.

When they stopped at the door to Rachel’s room, he caught Cole’s “Really?” expression. “We both knew there was no way in hell you’d want to be in there.”

As Cole pushed the door open and stepped inside, Logan mumbled under his breath, “You’ve got that fucking right.”

Tate chuckled behind him.

“Like you weren’t thinking it.”

“Logan, Tate…” Rachel beamed at them.

“Well, hello there, Mrs. Madison,” Logan greeted, making his way around to the side of the bed to kiss her forehead.

She looked beautiful, but the dark circles under her usually vibrant eyes showed just how exhausted she was.

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.