Chapter Eleven
Logan had to hand it to him. Tate had finally managed to take his mind off his fucked-up week. With his parting line, the presumptuous bastard had firmly planted a new obsession in his head—one he was still thinking about now, hours later.
He looked himself over one last time. Navy-blue pants, a light-blue shirt, and a grey pullover that made his eyes appear exactly how he felt—stormy. He then grabbed his black, woolen trench coat from the coatrack by the door. Tonight, he’d dressed with one thing in mind: to bring Tate Morrison to his fucking knees.
With his keys in one hand, he shoved his and Tate’s papers in his pocket and set out to find his bartender. It was time to remind him that, sometimes, things were more interesting when there was a fight for who was on top—and I want it with the sexy fucker who left cocksure and victorious. Yes, it’ll be real nice to get one up on him.
It took him less than twenty minutes to get over to the parking garage attached to the building his office and After Hours were located in, and by the time he made it up the elevator and through the front doors of his local haunt, Logan was pleased to note he’d arrived with five minutes to spare.
There was a good amount of activity in the downtown bar, but that wasn’t surprising since it was a Friday night. As he unbuttoned his jacket and walked through the tables, he let his eyes scan the interior, searching out his man.
Tate wasn’t anywhere to be found, and as he settled at the far end of the bar, Logan saw Amelia making her way toward him. With a smile on her face and a towel tucked into the side of her pants, she gave a flirty wink and leaned up against the counter to put a coaster down in front of him.
“Evening, stranger. It’s been a while.”
Logan placed his arms on the bar top and clasped his hands together as his eyes shifted past her to see Stacy, another employee, push through the doors of the back room.
Where is he? he thought before he answered Amelia. “It has been, hasn’t it?”
“Uh huh. So, how’ve you been?”
Logan brought his eyes back to hers and noticed a sparkle in them. “I’m just fine. How are you?”
She flashed him a mischievous grin. “I’m good. Looking for someone?”
“Pretty sure you know who I’m looking for.”
“Pretty sure if you turn around you’ll see him.”
Logan swiveled on the stool and found Amelia to be right. Tate was standing over by the booths against the far wall with his back to him, but he’d know those shoulders and trim waist anywhere. The white towel that had been a fascination of his when they’d first met was hooked into the waist of Tate’s pants and automatically drew Logan’s eyes. He had one hand on the back of the seat he was standing by, talking to the women sitting in the booth, who were laughing up at him. When he bent across to take the glass from the blonde who was holding it out for him, Logan heard her giggle from across the room at something Tate must’ve said.
Logan put an elbow on the bar behind him and continued to watch the way Tate engaged the entire table before he walked to the next. At each booth he checked on, the patrons smiled, chatted, and seemed to genuinely enjoy interacting with the personable, not to mention extremely good-looking, bartender.
“He’s really good with them, isn’t he?” Amelia asked behind him.
Logan observed Tate as an outsider might. “Yeah, he’s great. They really love him.”
“Yep. They sure do. Not a hard thing, I imagine.”
Logan chuckled. “Are you trying to weasel information out of me?”
“Me? Never.”
“Sure.”
Amelia placed a hand on her hip and shrugged. “I’m just saying I bet he’s easy to love.”
“That better be all you’re saying.”
She rolled her eyes. “Please. Ever since you got your hands on him, he doesn’t even flirt with the customers anymore.”
Oh really? Logan thought, loving that particular piece of information.
“He’s friendly, but that’s where it ends. He’s a good—”
“A good what?” Tate’s voice interrupted Amelia’s words and had Logan’s head whipping around to see him standing in front of him.
Straightening on the stool, Logan took in the immaculate After Hours uniform and had a sudden flash of the last time he’d been up close and personal with it. That had him shifting on his seat.
Tate glanced at the clock on the wall, and then he brought his eyes back to meet his and gave a smile that just about melted Logan’s insides. It was full of ego and sex as it screamed, I know you want me—but you’re gonna have to work real hard before you have me.