Trust (Temptation #3)(69)
Tate started to laugh then—really laugh.
“Okay,” Logan stressed, knowing he was acting like a nervous shit. “I get it. You said yes. You meant yes. I’m going now.”
He made his way to the bedroom door but stopped when Tate said his name.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t forget to wear a scarf and coat. Weather said it was going to be icy this morning.”
A wide grin split Logan’s lips and he nodded. “Yes, dear.”
“Oh, and Logan?”
Logan cocked his head to the side. “Hmm?”
“Love you.”
Damn, Logan thought. Every time he says it, my heart just about stops.
“I love you too. See you at one, Tate. Don’t make me wait.”
* * *
An hour later, Tate had already received two phone calls and one text from Logan. All under the guise of forgetting something when it was more than obvious he was checking up on him. It was cute, but he knew that if he said that, Logan would go from concerned to annoyed in the blink of an eye.
What had he once told him? Oh yeah. Puppies were cute. Not him.
Tate was still grinning over the last text when the intercom in the condo buzzed. Not expecting anyone, he made his way over to it and hit the answer button.
“Good morning, Mr. Morrison.”
The fact that the doorman knew his name was the first shock Tate got.
The second came when he told him, “I have a man down here who says he’s your father. Can I let him up?”
Tate stared at the black box in front of him and felt his hand start shaking.
How the hell did he know where to find me?
Things had been tense after he’d woken up at the hospital. His mother had refused to come into the room while Logan was there, so that pretty much meant that, from the moment he’d woken to when he’d been released, he’d seen his parents twice. And each time had resulted in close to radio silence.
He couldn’t believe that, after everything he’d gone through, they still couldn’t get past their warped views on his love life. Considering what they’d put him through, he thought they were lucky he’d agreed to see them at all. Just thinking about them making Logan wait outside every day had him—
“Sir?”
Tate closed his eyes and let out a breath, wondering what the hell his father could possibly want. “Yeah. Let him up,” he said and then released the button.
He rubbed his hand over his face and waited—waited for the inevitable disappointment that would come when he looked into the eyes he’d once trusted above all others.
* * *
It had taken a little over an hour for Logan to get through his stack of mail. As he leaned back in his chair and removed his glasses, he clicked on his e-mail and winced at the number of unopened messages that came up.
Placing his glasses on the desk, he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
“Um, Mr. Mitchell?”
“Yes, Sherry?” he said, spotting his PA standing just inside his door.
“Mr. Madison wanted to know if you had a minute to go and see him.”
Logan glanced at the clock and nodded. “Yeah. Can you let him know I’ll be down there in five minutes?”
“Sure thing,” she said with a smile, and then she took a careful step farther into the office with a pad of paper in her hand. “Mr. Mitchell?”
“Yes?” Logan asked as he clicked open the first email.
“I just wanted to say I was very sorry to hear about Tate. We all were. But we’re so thrilled to hear he’s doing well and back at home with you.”
Yes, Logan thought as he stopped reading the e-mail. I definitely like the sound of that. At home. With me.
“Thank you, Sherry. I’ll make sure to pass it along to him.”
“Oh, well, that’s the thing. We’d like to send him a basket of goodies or something. And the girls and I were wondering what he likes.”
Logan felt a spark of mischief as he said, “He likes nuts.”
Sherry rolled her eyes. “Really, Logan?”
Logan laughed at the use of his first name. It was rare that she used it, but when she did, it was usually because he’d said something outrageous.
“Sorry. I couldn’t help myself, and it’s actually the truth. He does like them.”
She gave him a look designed to make him feel like a scolded little boy—and it worked. “What kind? And do not give me some smart-mouthed response, mister.”
Logan picked his glasses up and stood, wandering around his desk until he stopped in front of her. “He loves hazelnuts. So I’m betting he’d love those roasted ones, you know—”
“From the confectionary store downstairs? Yes, I know the ones.”