AROUND FORTY MINUTES—not to mention several drinks—later, the limo came to a stop and Logan tried to shift around Tate to get a glimpse out the window.

“Stop it.” Tate put a hand to Logan’s shoulder and slowly pushed him back into his seat. “For someone who put up such an argument about even coming today, you sure are eager to see where we are.”

Logan leaned in to Tate’s side and twisted one of the curls peeking out from his beanie around his index finger. “You know me. I can’t stand to be the only one who doesn’t know what’s going on.”

Tate arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “I’m not going to tell you, even with you looking at me like that.”

“And how am I looking at you?”

“Like you’re thinking of ways to persuade me to do what you want.”

Logan removed his hand from Tate’s hair and brought it down to cover his heart. “You wound me. I would never do anything so underhanded. If I wanted something, I’d just pin you down and make you talk.”

Tate scoffed at the arrogance in that comment. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would.” Logan ran his eyes over Tate’s outfit and trailed his fingers down the side of his scarf. “Where you’re taking me, do we have to spend all our time with this bunch of yahoos? Or do we have a…private area?”

“We have a private suite.”

Logan’s cock jumped at that new piece of information as he tried to work out where the hell they were. They’d been on the road now for some time, and he’d tried his best to get details out of the other occupants of the car, but so far no one had budged.

“Leave Tate alone,” Cole said from where he sat with an arm slung around Rachel’s shoulders. Logan didn’t let go of Tate’s scarf but looked over his shoulder at his brother, trying to decide if his attire gave anything away about where they were headed—it didn’t.

Cole was in dark blue jeans and a light grey turtleneck—nothing out of the ordinary.

“I don’t want to leave Tate alone, and since this is my day, you can just deal with it. It’s not my fault you all invited yourself along to wherever it is we’re going.”

“Tate invited us,” Shelly said from beside a chuckling Rachel, and Logan aimed his eyes her way. “And I, for one, am going to enjoy myself, whether you are being petulant or not.” The blond bombshell raised a second glass of champagne to her lips and swallowed it down. Logan noted she was wearing knee-high brown leather boots with a cream woolen dress, and was pleased by the prospect that whatever they were doing, the good doctor could obviously accomplish it in heels.

“I’m not being petulant. I’ve decided to embrace my weekend even with friends and family along.” Logan scanned everyone in the limo. “But if any of you mention the B-word, the O-word, or a particular number to me, I don’t care who you are, by tomorrow morning the rest of us will be playing How to Host a Murder with you as the victim.”

Robbie snorted. “God, you’re not that ol—”

Logan pinned him with a fierce glare. “Says the young whippersnapper in the car who is all of twenty-nine.”

“Huh.” That came from Priest, and had everyone looking in his direction.

“You got something to say over there?” Robbie asked.

Priest shook his head, his hunter-green sweater making his auburn hair look extra fiery today. “No. I just thought you were much younger.”

When everyone in the car fell silent, Logan looked between Priest and Robbie and noticed Robbie’s eyes had narrowed to slits. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Robbie demanded.

Priest finished the vodka he’d been sipping for the last fifteen minutes and shrugged. “Just that you act younger than your age.”

“You insufferable assho—”

The door to the limousine opened, and Larry announced, just in time to prevent an all-out war, “Okay, everyone, we’re here.”

* * *

TATE WAS STARTING to second-guess how wise it had been to invite Priest and Robbie along with them this weekend as everyone began to climb out of the Hummer.

Once they were all out and standing in front of a large house covered in ivy, Tate took Logan’s hand in his. “This is Lynley Winery Bed & Breakfast.” Logan looked at him, and Tate arched an eyebrow. “You know, one of those places for you fancy wine-tasting types.”

Logan angled his body into Tate’s and grinned. “I might be familiar with those.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Logan said as he looked back to what Tate knew was the “old house” of the property. That’s where he’d been told they needed to check in. “This place is beautiful.”

“So…good surprise?” Tate asked as he watched everyone else head over to the wide set of stone stairs that led up to the front door.

“A very good surprise.” Logan walked alongside Tate as he led them toward the rest of the group. “And you said we have a suite here tonight?”

“We do.”

“So that means we get to taste all the wine we want and neither of us have to drive anywhere?”

As they took the stairs up under a second-floor balcony, Tate nodded. “None of us do. And I was thinking I might put in an order for some new wines. I’d love them to be local. So what do you say? Up for a little taste testing with me?”

Logan’s eyes lit as Tate opened the main door, and as he walked past, Logan said, “I’m up for tasting anything you want me to tonight.”

Tate chuckled and pointed inside. “Go, troublemaker. Your guests are waiting on you.”

Logan strolled in through the gift shop and under an arched hallway to where they were to check in, and as Tate came around the corner and saw how Logan had neatly situated himself between Robbie and Priest, he couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up.

Damn, he loved that man. Logan was intuitive as hell. And as he stood there with their family and friends, Tate took the time to really drink in the sight of the people in their lives.

Cole, Rachel, and Logan were all laughing at something Robbie had just said, while Priest merely looked on like the silent observer he was. Shelly and Josh were at the main desk talking to a woman with a friendly grin, and as she nodded and gestured to a hall to her left, Shelly looked over her shoulder and said, “Okay, are you guys ready to go and get plastered on Logan’s dime?”

“I believe, actually, that Tate’s paying,” Logan said.

Shelly smiled and gave Tate a flirty little wave. “That’s what you think, handsome.”

They all laughed and started off after her, but when Logan realized Tate wasn’t over there yet, he looked over his shoulder to seek him out. As his eyes came to a halt on him where Tate stood leaning against the archway, Logan walked back in his direction.

“You coming?” Logan asked.

Tate nodded and pushed off the wall. “Yeah. I was just taking a step back to watch.”

“Oh yeah? And what did you see?”

“You,” Tate said, and cupped Logan’s chin. “I always see you.”

“Hmm, well, I’m not going to complain about that.”

“No, I didn’t think you would.”

“Want to show me our suite? I think you’d be able to see me much better there.”

“No,” Tate said. “You have a bir—”

“Uh ah.” Logan put a finger to Tate’s lips. “I have a wine tasting to go to.”

Tate’s lips twitched. “You do know you never have to worry about your age, don’t you? You get better looking with every year that passes.”

“You have to say that. You love me.”

Tate took Logan’s wrist and drew his hand away, lacing their fingers together. “I’d say that even if I were a straight man and we were just friends.”

Logan’s eyes widened, and he looked horrified. “Don’t even joke about that. Why would you say something so heinous to the birthday boy?”

“I’m sorry, what did you just call yourself?”

Logan opened his mouth, but when he realized exactly what he’d said, he pointed an accusing finger at Tate. “That’s cheating.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it fucking is. Going around calling yourself a straight man to get a reaction out of me is cheating. That word was banished from our lives years ago.” Logan sounded so put-out that Tate couldn’t stop himself from laughing.

“I didn’t say that. I said if I were a straight man…” Tate lowered his eyes to Logan’s mouth. “Which clearly I’m not, with what I’m thinking.” When Logan remained stubbornly quiet, Tate grinned. “I’ll make a deal with you. Later tonight I’ll take the birthday boy back to our suite and prove to him just how crooked this straight tree’s roots have become over the years.”

As his words penetrated Logan’s irked attitude, Tate saw the instant he picked up on them and realized they were the same words he’d used back when he’d been trying his hand at convincing a very straight man to give in and…experiment.

“You know,” Logan said, “it’s kind of rude to use my own arguments on me in such a sneaky way.”

“After years of living with you, I’ve had to adapt to ever have a chance of coming out on top.” Tate winked at Logan, who just grumbled some more, and then tugged on his hand as they headed toward the hall to go and track down the others.