Trust (Temptation #3)(71)
When his father’s lips tightened, Tate squared his shoulders. “It’s not going to change. This isn’t a phase I’m going through, and if you spent just five minutes with him without all of your bullshit prejudices, you’d see why.”
The silence that engulfed the room was filled with tension, but Tate was not going to back down. He’d meant every word he’d said, and if his father didn’t like it—then that’s too damn bad.
“I have spent time with him.”
If he hadn’t seen his father’s lips move, Tate would’ve believed he’d imagined the words. “What did you say?”
“I have spoken to Mr. Mitchell.”
“His name’s Logan. And telling him to get out of my hospital room doesn’t count.”
His father rubbed a hand over the grey stubble on his chin and frowned. “I know what his name is, Tate. I also know he owns his own law firm with his brother, Cole.”
Tate’s mouth opened, but he forgot what he was going to say. His dad slid his hands into his pockets and glanced around the condo.
“This sure is some place.”
“Dad,” Tate got out, glaring at him in a way that screamed, Start talking.
“He was there every day you were in that place. Every night too. The first time I saw him, your mother and I were being taken back to see you. He was arguing with a woman at the front desk who was refusing him permission to go back to you, and he looked murderous. He was like a man who had fought through hell to get to where he was and was being held back in the final moment.”
Tate tried to imagine how he would’ve felt in Logan’s position and couldn’t. All he knew was that, every time the topic came up, Logan looked physically ill.
“I couldn’t do anything at that point because your mother—”
“I don’t care about that. You said you spoke to him,” Tate said, more interested in what had happened between his father and Logan than anything else.
“I did. Several times. After I finally got back to see you and realized how bad it was, I told myself that, when you made it through surgery I would go get him—the one person I knew you would fight for. It wasn’t us—it was him.”
Tate clenched his hand in his pocket as he looked away from his father, not willing to be that vulnerable in front of him.
“Tate?”
When he raised his head, he saw that his father was now down the hall.
When he got to the door, he said, “I was wrong to say what I did that day you came by the house. You came looking for your father, and I wasn’t there. Just know that I am now, son. If you ever need to look again.”
And with that, he walked out the door.
* * *
Logan was almost at Cole’s office when his door opened and Christopher Walker sauntered out.
“Well, well. If it isn’t the illustrious Mr. Mitchell who takes off on a whim and drops his new clients in his brother’s lap.”
Not wanting to get into any kind of conversation with Chris, Logan chose to ignore him and went to walk by.
“Not even a ‘good morning’?”
Logan glanced over at the slick architect he’d once found so attractive and wondered what he’d ever seen in him.
Perhaps it was his back… It’d be nice if he walked the fuck out, and I could decide for myself.
“Good morning, Mr. Walker.”
Chris laughed, and the sound grated along his nerves as Logan stood there acting the part of polite owner in front of a staff with curious eyes. It was bad enough they’d all witnessed Tate’s public outing. They didn’t need to see a replay of his past.
“So, where have you been, Mitchell?”
“None of your business,” he said quietly enough that no one would overhear.
“I disagree. You were my lawyer. That usually means I can rely on you if need be. Not have to wonder if you’re off on some two-month vacation fucking your latest boy toy.”
As the words left Chris’s mouth, all Logan heard was the final snide remark, and there was nothing that could’ve held him back. Quick as a flash, he grabbed Chris’s jacket and shoved him up against the wall.
“You’re going to want to shut your mouth right about now,” Logan growled at him, two seconds away from going completely postal.
“Touchy subject, huh? What happened? Did the sexy-haired guy leave too? Just can’t hold a good man down, can you, Logan?”
“Shut the fuck up,” he snarled.
“Logan!”
Cole’s voice cut through the anger that had boiled to the surface and heated Logan’s face, and when he felt a hand on his arm, he turned and saw Cole giving him a polite but stern “let go of him now” look.