Try (Temptation Series)(8)

Tate was trying to keep up with what the hell was going on while looking at the man peering at him from behind the dark-framed glasses, but he was coming up with absolutely nothing.

“It’s okay,” Logan assured, dropping the heavy sarcasm. He gave a relaxed smile. “I’m only inappropriate when I’m sober.”

That finally made Tate laugh. Somehow, he doubted it.

“So, I just have to get you drunk to shut your mouth?” As soon as he’d said the words, he knew they were the wrong ones, considering the current conversation.

“Well, that’s definitely one way, but I can think of a more preferable one, not to mention more pleasurable,” Logan responded.

Tate recognized the same voice he had heard Logan use on the phone with Jess when he’d said he wanted to get her naked. Or maybe Jess was a he?

“Do you hit on everyone you meet?” Tate heard himself ask as he stood, frozen to the spot by some perverse curiosity.

Yes, he’d been the object of affection over the years, but there was something different behind Logan’s comments. Logan’s scrutiny was a lot more intense than a casual once-over. Logan was looking at him like he wanted to see him without his clothes on, as soon as possible.

“Do you?” Logan countered, looking directly at him.

Well, he has a point. Tate had been flirting with him earlier when he thought the guy was gay and interested enough to give him a good tip. Yeah, joke’s on me. Now that Tate knew Logan thought he was hot, Tate was thinking that flirting hadn’t been such a great idea. He was actually thinking it would be a very dangerous one, if he continued.

“It’s part of my job, I guess,” Tate tried explaining.

As soon as an I-don’t-believe-you expression crossed Logan’s face, Tate knew that whatever was about to come next would be highly inappropriate.

So, Tate interrupted. “Do you want another drink?”

Logan inclined his head forward, “Yes, please.”

Tate was relieved that Logan had let the conversation go, and turned away quickly. He went about making his drink, all the while telling himself to pull his shit together. The guy was just confident and went after what he wanted.

Right now, he’s playing with me because he thinks I was talking shit about him. I will not let him get to me. At least he doesn’t know my name.

Tate moved back to the bar and slid the drink across the counter. He watched as Logan’s large hand stopped the glass.

He lifted it in a mock salute. “Thanks for the drink, Tate.”

Tate narrowed his eyes on the laughing ones looking back at him, and he couldn’t help the annoyance bubbling up inside of him. Logan knew my name all along.

“By the way, Stacy was right about you grabbing my attention, but the next time you gossip, you should do it quietly.”

Tate had nothing to say to that. Instead of trying to come up with anything, he turned on his heel and made his way down the bar to the other waiting customers, getting as far away from Logan as he could get.

* * *

Logan took another sip of his drink, enjoying himself immensely.

Tate. He now had a name to go with the currently bewildered face. Poor guy. Logan knew he was sending out more mixed signals than a broken down traffic light, but fuck, he was having fun. With every cryptic comment he had thrown, Logan could see the questions running through the man’s mind.

Well, let him wonder, and while he’s wondering, I’m going to concentrate on watching.

Tate hadn’t punched him yet, so that was a plus. No, Tate had almost flirted. It wasn’t until he’d realized how interested Logan was, that things had changed. That was when Tate had backed off.

Logan always went after what he wanted though. That was half of his problem. He had no boundaries. Thanks, Mom. Throughout his life, his mom had been so busy apologizing to him for his worthless sperm donor of a father that Logan had pretty much done whatever he’d wanted to.

But wanting this guy? That was a stupid choice in every way.

First, Logan had no clue if the guy was single. Second, every indication thus far had proven Tate was one hundred percent straight.

So, what the fuck am I doing?

He stood, getting ready to leave, when Tate turned and started walking toward him.

Logan stopped what he was doing and took a moment to admire the way he moved. Long legs encased in black slacks confidently stepped across the space with a purely masculine stride, but the look on his face was not half as certain. He looked worried.

He stopped in front of Logan. “I hope I haven’t offended you in any way tonight, sir.”

Aw, he thinks he pissed off a customer.

It was a pity he couldn’t just say, Relax, Tate. I want to see you naked, not fired.