Logan looked to Tate, who was now standing in his living room with his hands in the pockets of his shorts and the newly added T-shirt. Tate looked over to where he was standing almost as if to gauge how he was supposed to be reacting, but Logan didn’t have time to warn him one way or another.
Evelyn was Evelyn, and nothing he did or did not say would change that.
“I’m Tate,” he offered in the end, and then he flashed that smile of his that made Logan’s heart thump and his dick hard.
She took his hand, shook it, and then said, “Good taste, son. He’s gorgeous.”
When Tate chuckled, Logan rolled his eyes and turned to pour himself some scotch.
“Have you two eaten yet? We should—”
“Yes,” Logan lied just as Tate replied, “Not yet.”
“You see what he’s trying to do?” She tsked. “You shouldn’t lie to your mother, Logan.”
“It’s late,” he stated as he faced them, a glass in his hand. The last thing he wanted to do was go out to a restaurant, not to mention be stuck, with her. “We both have work tomorrow.”
“You can go in late. That’s the beauty of owning your own company,” she retorted then aimed a “please say yes” look up at Tate, who was standing beside her. “What do you say? Want to have dinner with me and hear all about Logan when he was still sweet to his old mom?”
Tate smiled at him. It was obvious he wanted to go. It was also clear as a fucking bell that, once again, Evelyn had charmed her way into another man’s life.
It all would’ve been amusing if her track record didn’t make it so fucking tragic.
Chapter Nine
Twenty minutes later, Tate found himself seated next to Logan in the back of a cab, while his mother was up front. After he’d finally given in, Logan had mumbled something about this being a “fucking disaster waiting to happen” and then had gone to his room to change. Tate had decided that a quick shower and borrowing Logan’s clothes were in order since Evelyn had mentioned wanting to take them somewhere fancy.
Now they were in the cab, and he’d been smart enough to avoid engaging the volatile man beside him…until right this second.
As Evelyn started to speak to the driver, Tate leaned over and put his lips by Logan’s ear. “I know what you mean now.”
Logan faced him, a scowl of annoyance still firmly in place, but there was a definite question in his eyes.
“You know when you tell me how crazy it makes you when I scowl? This prickly, ‘don’t fuck with me’ attitude you’re throwing around? It’s all kinds of sexy.”
One of Logan’s dark eyebrows rose. “Really? You’re coming on to me here? My mother is sitting in the front seat.”
Tate hummed and put his hand on Logan’s leg, sliding it up his thigh as he flicked his tongue over his earlobe. “Do you want me to stop?”
Logan coughed a little and shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”
With a smile against Logan’s cheek, Tate flexed his fingers into the material under his hands. “No, you didn’t, did you? Did you—”
“It’s so nice to spend an evening with family. We never get to do that, do we, Logan?” Evelyn’s question broke through Tate’s rapidly growing lust and reminded him that Logan was right—they were in a cab with his mother.
He shifted so he was sitting back in his seat, and just when he was about to remove his hand, Logan’s came down over his to guide it farther up his leg.
“No, we don’t. And I’m so distraught I can hardly speak of it,” Logan said in a droll voice while he interlaced their fingers, locking his in place.
“Don’t get sassy with me, young man. I’m still your mother.”
Tate’s eyes moved to Evelyn and then shifted back to Logan as he spread his legs a little wider and turned his head toward him—all the while carrying on a perfectly normal conversation.
Damn his ability to be so in control while turned on.
“I’m well aware of who you are, Evelyn. I’m just trying to work out what it is you want.”
Tate bit down on his lower lip, thinking of exactly what he wanted in that moment, and Logan’s eyes practically dared him to come get it. After making sure the other occupants in the car were facing forward, Tate glided their hands over to the growing erection under Logan’s black pants.
“Is it a crime that I wanted to come and see my boy? I hardly think so. And it’s a good thing I did. You never would have told me about Tate.”
Tate wasn’t even paying attention to the conversation. He was too busy squeezing his fingers around the hardness under his palm, and when Logan’s lips parted and he pushed his hips up a little, Tate had to bite back a groan. Goddamned exhibitionist.