“Quit it, would you?” Logan ordered at the thorough once-over Tate gave him.
“Quit, what?”
Logan aimed his eyes at the lips surrounding the tobacco stick. “Staring at me like you just spent the night, naked, in my bed.”
“But I did. I hardly think it’s making you uncomfortable,” Tate stated, lowering his arm, as he straightened off the wall.
“Trust me, uncomfortable is not what it’s making me feel.”
“Mhmm, and since when has that bothered you?”
“Since I’m out on a public street and can’t rectify the issue,” Logan pointed out.
“So, I shouldn’t tell you that you in that suit makes me really fucking excited? I’ve never dated anyone who wears a suit. Well, I’ve never dated a guy, so—”
“Tate?” Logan interrupted shifting his briefcase in front of him to hide the erection he could feel swelling even further between his legs.
“Yeah?”
“Stop it.”
Tate laughed, clearly enjoying his discomfort, as he turned to press the butt of his cigarette into the tall, cylindrical black ashtray by the door.
“No, I don’t think I will. I had to deal with this shit from you for a week before you finally told me what the hell you were looking at.”
Logan stepped around him and pushed his face in close to Tate’s. “I thought I was more than obvious. I was looking at you. And by the way, why are you smoking again? Stressed? Nervous?”
Tate arched a brow and offered a roguish grin. “How about satisfied?”
Rolling his eyes, Logan reached out and pulled the door open to the coffee shop. As the smell of ground beans reached him, he watched Tate maneuver his way through the people waiting to take a spot at the back of the shortest line. Following his lead, Logan moved in beside him and then reached down between them and slid his palm into the one by Tate’s side.
Tate turned toward him, and Logan made sure he was staring right back with a neutral expression. When Tate’s fingers parted slightly and entwined with his own, as they had last night, Logan couldn’t help the way his heartbeat nearly flew out of his chest. Tate winked at him and went back to facing the front, and Logan found it almost laughable that he was the one standing there with a shocked look on his face.
Pulling his shit together, he leaned in, so their shoulders bumped, and he whispered, “You look good in my jeans. I especially like that you aren’t wearing anything under them.”
Without even turning, Tate chuckled as he continued to scan the chalk-written menu. “Can’t help yourself, can you?”
“What?” Logan protested with his eyes on the strong side profile Tate’s jaw presented.
Tate turned to him as they shuffled forward in the line. “That right there.”
“What? I was just making a comment.”
Shaking his head, Tate moistened his lip with his tongue. “You never just make a comment.”
“I don’t?”
“No. You make suggestions, or you turn things into an invitation.”
Logan shifted where he stood, very aware of the heat of Tate’s body and the hand in his own, as he turned back to look at the menu even though what he wanted was standing right beside him.
“Maybe that’s just what you hear,” he added quietly.
He was shocked to feel a set of warm lips by his ear as Tate told him, “That’s what you want me to hear.”
Logan faced him with only a slither of space between them and admitted, “Damn right, that’s what I want you to hear. And it’s still what I want, every minute I’m with you.”
Silence slipped between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in any way. Logan wanted to call Cole and tell him he was taking the rest of the week off, and then he’d convince Tate to do the same, but really, there was no need. It wasn’t as if they only had two weeks to work this out. They had as long as they wanted, they had forever if need be.
Wait—damn, that’s exactly what we have, Logan thought as he turned back to face the front, and once again, they moved farther up the line.
“So, I’m meeting with Diana and your brother today. Finally, all of this shit will be over,” Tate told him.
As Tate’s words interrupted his current train of thought, Logan blinked several times and tried to refocus. “Oh, that’s bound to be fun,” he answered absentmindedly.
“Yeah, I’m sure. A root canal would be more exciting.”
Logan didn’t mean to ignore Tate, but he found himself standing there, trying to imagine how to ask Tate if he were interested in—
What exactly?
Yeah, Tate had expressed that he was feeling things that were more than just sex—feelings that were strong, that would terrify him—