“You dumb shit. He just got outed to everyone he knows and stood up for you, and you told him no to meeting his parents?” Cole laughed again. “I would have fucking punched you before I left, if I were him.”
He very nearly did, Logan thought, remembering the rage on Tate’s face. But then he also recalled the disappointment and pain in the expression he’d seen right before Tate had walked out.
As Logan stood there silently, Rachel ran a hand up his arm to his shoulder. “Go to him, and apologize. Swallow your pride.”
Logan looked down at her and tried to diffuse the much-too-emotional moment with inappropriateness. “It’s not pride I’d have to swallow.”
A small smile tipped her lips as her eyes sparkled. “I’m not rising to your dirty bait, Logan Mitchell. If it’s not pride, then swallow your fear.” She looked over to Cole and whispered, “I did. It was the best thing I ever could have done.”
Logan glanced at the other man in the room, and the look on Cole’s face as he stared back at his wife made Logan—
Envious?
“You’re right. You’re both right. I have a few meetings, and then I’ll go and track him down.”
Rachel practically squealed as she bounced up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “See? Family can be a good thing! We just did a good thing, right? And we’re family. Now, make up you two, so Cole can ask you something.”
Logan frowned over at his brother.
“Go on,” Rachel urged.
Shaking their heads, they both grumbled out a pathetic excuse of, “I’m sorry,” and then Rachel patted his arm and moved around the desk to go and stand by Cole.
Taking her husband’s hand in hers, they both looked over at him, Rachel grinning and Cole looking as serious as ever.
“Okay, ask him.”
“Rachel,” Cole warned as though he wasn’t sure he wanted to right now.
“You told me you wanted to ask him as soon as we knew, but you both had a fight, and—”
“Rachel?” Cole interrupted.
“Yes, dear?”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
Logan stood there, looking back and forth between the pair, and when Rachel turned and placed her hands on her belly, Logan felt a genuine smile spread across his face.
“Will you please be one of our baby’s guardians? You know, in case—”
“Don’t say it,” Logan grumbled quickly, raising a hand. Then, he laughed out loud. “Congratulations, you two! But are you crazy? Me? Are you sure?”
“No, not really,” Cole replied dryly.
Rachel whacked him in the chest. “Yes. We wanted both of our brothers.”
Logan looked over at Cole, extremely moved by the gesture he never would have expected, and when his brother finally smiled, he felt their relationship shift back to where it belonged. The only thing that was missing was the one thing that he’d driven away.
“Then, I’d be honored.”
As Cole hugged his radiant wife to his side, he glanced over at Logan and mouthed, We good?
Logan tipped his chin in agreement as his mind began spinning—spinning, planning, and plotting his next move. It all revolved around one thing—getting Tate back into his life.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Three and a—fuck, something hours later, and I still can’t stop thinking about him, Tate thought as he stared at the fan rotating slowly above him. Nothing would have been odd about that, except that his fan was turned off. Yep, the alcohol was doing its job, and he was nice and buzzed.
Lying on his back, he picked up his cell phone from his bare chest and stared at the screen. Still nothing. No calls of outrage from the family and not one call or text from that asshole telling me how sorry he is.
Well, fuck him, Tate thought, dropping the phone back to where it had been, as he lifted the bottle of Cuervo to his lips. Actually, don’t fuck him. He’d like it too much, Tate told himself just as his phone vibrated.
Picking it up, he made out the name and text he’d been waiting for. Swiping open the message, he stared at the two words on his screen and felt his mouth fall open. Twisting around and sitting up way too fast for his head, Tate continued to stare at the screen.
That arrogant fuck. Instead of the two words he’d expected—I’m sorry—there, staring back at him, was, I’m coming.
Tate glared at the phone as if the man who had typed it would be able to see. Placing the bottle down on the floor beside him, he typed back.
You’re not coming here.
Logan was in for a rude surprise if he thought Tate was going to let him in, and an even ruder one if he thought he was going to come in any way, shape, or form near him until he apologized.