LOGAN COULDN’T HELP the smirk that crept across his mouth at Tate’s words, and there was absolutely no way he could stop himself from stealing a kiss—no matter who was watching, because that charming grin he’s flashing at me is too damn tempting to ignore.

“My back is just fine.” Logan brushed his lips over the top of Tate’s. “But thank you for asking. I would, however, really love it if your father got out here soon with a stiff drink.”

When Tate chuckled over their inside joke, nearly all of Logan’s tension dissipated. It was obvious Tate didn’t care who was on the porch with them and what they were witnessing, and Logan wanted to give himself a swift kick in the ass for allowing anybody else’s opinion on them to dictate his own response.

What the hell was the matter with him? Since when had he given a shit about what someone else thought? But as he settled back in the seat beside Tate and took his hand, Logan knew.

It was the last time I met this particular woman and it ended in a fucking disaster.

But not now. Not this time. This time would be different. And when Logan looked over at Jill again, he was surprised to see a soft smile playing on her lips. She didn’t appear outraged. Didn’t appear disgusted, as she once had. In fact, as she looked between Tate and himself, she seemed…pleased.

“So,” Tate said, returning his attention to the other two in the room. And when he would’ve said more, Jill shifted forward on her seat and raised her palm for him to stop talking.

“Please,” she said. “Before we go any further tonight, there’s something I need to say.” When Tate nodded, her gaze flicked to Logan, and she blinked a couple of times, as though trying to gather her nerve. “I owe you an apology,” she began, and when she paused, Sam placed a hand on her back, and it seemed his support gave her the strength she needed to continue. “I was horrible to you the first day we met. When I think back to it, I can’t believe the way I acted.”

Logan remained silent, not knowing what to say. He knew what he wanted to say, something along the lines of yes, you fucking were. But he figured if they were going to talk this out, then it needed to be with some modicum of decorum.

“I have no excuse. Not one. There is no excuse for the way I behaved. I came into your place of business and acted as though you were beneath me because I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was seeing that day.”

Logan recalled the exact moment she was referring to. When she’d burst into his office and found him and Tate in a kiss that not only rocked their world but also turned out to be the catalyst that made Tate’s implode upon itself.

“Again, that’s no excuse. And I’m not trying to make it one. What should’ve happened that day, what I wished had happened, was that I talked to my brother.” Jill let her gaze drift to Tate’s, and her mouth tipped down. “I should’ve gone to him, listened to what he had to say. I should’ve suggested we go to lunch or something so he could talk to me and tell me what was going on in his life… But I didn’t do any of that.”

When her words came to an end, Logan tightened his fingers around Tate’s and took in a deep breath. He thought about everything he’d ever wanted to say to Jill if given the opportunity, and as he exhaled, Logan decided he just needed to say them. He’d never been one to beat around the bush, and if they were ever going to move past this, if Tate was ever going to have a chance of mending this damaged relationship, then he also had to be honest in his thoughts about Jill’s sudden reappearance and acceptance of them.

“No, you didn’t.” Logan looked at Sam, trying to gauge him and where he stood on all of this. Because while Logan wanted to speak up and say what was on his mind, he didn’t relish the idea of getting into a brawl with Jill’s husband. But what he saw when their eyes met was non-confrontational. And Logan had a sneaking suspicion the two of them had discussed this very moment and how to handle it before they’d arrived tonight.

Well, here goes nothing. “You were hateful, judgmental, and rude that day.”

Tate shifted in the chair beside him, but didn’t say anything to stop Logan, so he continued. “If it were only me, maybe that would’ve made your actions less deplorable. But it wasn’t just me that day in my office. It was your brother. And you took something fundamentally important away from him. You took away his choice. His voice. You took away his right to take his time and understand what was going on in his life, with no regard whatsoever to how your interference would impact him.”

God that felt good to finally get off his chest.

“I know,” Jill said, and had the good grace to lower her eyes.

“Do you?” Logan asked. “Do you understand how one kind word from you, one extended olive branch, could’ve changed all of this? That instead of us sitting here feeling as though there is a giant chasm between us, you could’ve stepped up four years ago like your father did and come and found your goddamn brother?”

“Logan,” Tate said, but before Logan could respond, Jill spoke up.

“No, Tate. Let him talk. He’s right. And it’s about time he had the opportunity to say what he’s feeling.”

Logan looked to Tate for guidance. If he saw even the slightest misgivings about him speaking his mind, he would zip it. But when their stares collided, all Logan saw was understanding. A bone-deep understanding that this was his opportunity. The chance to finally put to rest the ugliness of that day and the ones that followed, so they could bury it and move the hell on. And Tate was more than fine with him taking it.

“I guess I’m trying to understand—why now?” Logan asked. “You’ve had four years to reach out to your dad about Tate, and you didn’t. Even after his car accident, you were nowhere to be found. So excuse me if I’m a little bit skeptical about your intentions here.”

Jill nodded and scooted to the edge of the seat. “No. Please. I want you to ask me anything. Of course you’re skeptical. I would be too.” When she paused, Logan waited, knowing she was likely thinking about how she wanted to say whatever it was that was on her mind. Then her eyes cut to Tate and softened. “I’ve already told this to you, but I think it’s imperative that Logan hears it as well.” And when her eyes, the same color as Tate’s, locked back on to Logan’s, she said, “I’m sorry. I know they’re only words, and actions are what will back them up. But I have never been sorrier about anything in my life than I am over the way I behaved that first day in your office, the weekend that followed, and every day since then that I didn’t reach out and find my brother.”

She stopped talking long enough to swipe her tongue over her bottom lip, and then she continued. “You know what it’s like to love Tate. To be loved by him…”

Logan’s heart clenched at those words, and he allowed himself to look at the man she was referring to, and Tate was right there staring back at him. His expression telling him that yes, he was loved by him, and that was never going to fucking change.

“He has this way of making you feel as though you’re the most important person in his world. And that he’ll do anything for you, fight any battle. And he’s always been that way. He was my knight. My big brother. And I thought I knew everything about him. Until you.”

At those final two words, Logan turned back to Jill and saw her lips crook to the side.

“I was jealous. Stupid, huh?” She gave a self-deprecating laugh. “That day I came to your office to meet up with Diana, I knew Tate would be there. She’d told me they had a meeting. And I thought it would be the perfect time to talk to him for a minute on his own, because the last couple of times I’d seen him here at the house, he’d been distracted. A little off. But he hadn’t called to talk to me about it like he normally would, and when I asked him if he was okay, he said he was fine.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Tate.

“You were a lot to deal with,” Tate said. “I was processing. Plus, I already told you you’re my biggest distraction. Have been since I met you, apparently.”

“Apparently,” Logan said, and squeezed Tate’s thigh. Then, wanting to hear the rest of Jill’s explanation, he directed his focus back to her and her husband.

“Diana had been talking about reconnecting with him,” she said. “Wanting to maybe try again—”

Logan couldn’t help the sound of disbelief that left him at that comment. And it took everything he had to bite his tongue, because Tate was all mine by that stage. No damn question about it.

“So when I walked in and saw you and Tate together, I didn’t understand what I was seeing. I mean, I understood, but couldn’t process what I was seeing. And then I…” She seemed to struggle to find the right word. “Then I acted like a total bitch.”

Well, that we can agree on. “Yeah, you did.”

Jill smiled at him, a wide grin that stretched across her mouth and transformed her features. And for the first time since he’d met her, he saw the striking resemblance between brother and sister.

“I can’t go back and change what I’ve done. I know that.” Jill angled her face toward Tate and became serious. “I also know my relationship with you will never be the same. But ever since the day I left you in the hospital, I have thought of nothing other than how to fix what I knew I had broken. How to approach you. How to possibly say sorry for everything I did and said to you. And the more time that passed, the harder it became, until…well, until I literally ran into you at Mariano’s that day and my heart just about stopped.”

She looked back at her husband then, and Sam rubbed a hand up her back and nodded. When she turned back to face Tate and Logan, she had tears in her eyes. “I saw you standing there with those two little children—your niece and nephew, right, Logan?”

Logan swallowed. “That’s right.”

She nodded and bit her lip. “And I thought, What have you done? You stupid, selfish, ignorant woman. What have you done? How had I let my brother, my own brother, slip away from me? Possibly have children I didn’t know about? How had I deprived him from my own children? This wonderful man,” she said, looking at Tate. “What kind of human being am I?”

She shook her head and wiped her eyes. “A pretty horrible one, I realized. And even the hurt and anger in Tate’s eyes that day was nothing compared to the disgust I felt for myself. When I got home that night, I broke down and told Sam everything.”

She sat back down beside her husband, and he took her hand in his. “He’d been trying to convince me to reach out for years. But I’d gotten myself into a dark place with it all where I just couldn’t work out a way to begin the conversation…”

Logan felt Tate move on the seat beside him, and watched him bring a hand up to rub his face. He was clearly feeling the emotions that were running high in the room. So Logan raised his arm and put it across the back of the chair, letting Tate settle into his side, appreciating the need to find comfort in the other right then. This conversation wasn’t an easy one.

“What could I possibly say that would ever make you want to talk to me again?” Jill asked. “And all I could think that night was, what if I never see him again? What if he doesn’t call? But…then you did.”

Logan stroked the back of Tate’s neck, trying to ease the rigid posture he could see there, as Tate slowly nodded and said, “You can thank Logan for that.”

“I think there’s a lot I have to thank him for,” Jill said. “I’m hoping he’ll give me the chance.”

* * *

TATE LOOKED AT Logan’s profile and wished for a split second he had the ability to read his mind, or, for that matter, his facial expression. But right then he had no idea what was running through Logan’s head.

There were so many emotions floating in the air that it was hard to decipher which one belonged to whom. But one thing Tate did know was that Jill had definitely given Logan something to think about, because if Logan wasn’t convinced she was sincere? If he thought for one second she was anything other than genuine? Then he would have no trouble telling her so, getting up, and leaving.

But Logan wasn’t doing that. He was listening. He was hearing her out. And right now, Tate knew he was analyzing everything he’d just heard and trying to decide if he wanted to trust her.

Tate studied Logan’s set jaw, serious mouth, and cautious eyes as he sat there all protective, ready to fight to the end for him. That fierce loyalty was so intrinsic in Logan it was almost palpable. Like a shield that wrapped around anyone he loved, and God forbid you mess with that man’s property. He’d fuck your shit up.

“I’m willing to be open about it if Tate is,” Logan finally said.

Cautious to the very end, Tate thought, as Jill gave a slow nod. “That’s all I can ask for,” she said.

“Agreed,” Logan said. “I would never stand in the way of you getting to know your brother again.” Then he turned to Tate. “I want that for him.”

Tate reached across then to touch Logan’s cheek, and kissed him. “Thank you.”

And before Logan could respond, the sound of the back door opening had his gaze shifting, and Tate turning, to see his father coming outside with three beer bottles in one hand, and a tumbler in the other.

Yeah… Not at all suspicious timing there, Dad.

“How you kids getting along out here?” Will asked.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “We’re all still alive.”

For now, Tate thought.

“Well, that’s a good start,” his dad said, with an awkward smile.

“I would say so.” Logan lowered his eyes to the tumbler. “But that sure would help.”

“Right. Right.” Will handed Logan the glass and Tate a beer. Then he crossed over to Jill and Sam and handed them both bottles before asking, “And you two? Doing okay?”

Jill looked up at their father and nodded. “Yeah, Dad, we’re good. We cleared the air for now. You can relax.”

Tate watched his father’s shoulders loosen, and then he moved over to the fire pit and rubbed his hands together to warm them, and Tate had to wonder how long the thaw would last.

“In that case,” their dad said, “drink up and come inside. It’s time for dinner.”

A COUPLE OF hours later, a pot roast and several drinks had everyone slightly more comfortable in their skin as they sat around the living room trying to find some common ground.

Their father was a great buffer, Tate thought. He was doing an admirable job of directing the conversation to safe topics, and even though Tate knew he had his own issues he needed to sort out with Jill, he clearly wasn’t going to tackle them tonight. He was busy making sure everything remained copacetic between the other four in the room.

Tate told them all about the new house, and Logan complained about packing. They learned that Jill now ran a daycare and Sam still worked in construction. But as conversation continued and Jill began talking about the little house they had lived in ever since they’d been married—something happened.

It wasn’t conscious. And it certainly wasn’t expected. But as Jill retold a renovation nightmare on what not to do when installing your own garden tub, an overwhelming sense of loss hit Tate. So much so that it just about knocked the air out of his lungs. The living room they were all seated in began to feel as though it were closing in on him, and as he tried to focus, he found that he couldn’t.

Jesus, what the hell is the matter with me?

But as he sat there on the couch beside Logan, Jill’s words started to jumble together until he lost track of them, too busy wondering why this particular topic was causing such a reaction in him.

Maybe it was because he remembered walking through that place when she’d first found it, that the idea they were still there, still the same as they ever were, when he was so completely different, brought to the forefront just how changed his life was.

He had no fucking idea. But as Jill continued to talk, Tate’s mind began to reel and his heart started to race, until he felt as though his entire equilibrium was off balance…

“Oh, and Cooper and Jonathon. They’re so big now—”

At the mention of his nephews’ names, that was it. Tate shot up out of his chair so fast that Logan spilled the drink he held in his hand.

“Shit, Tate,” he said, grabbing for a napkin on the coffee table to wipe the bottom of the glass. But before anything else could be said, Tate booked it out of the room.

Fuck. Fuck. I need some space. Some fucking air, he thought, as he shoved open the front door and headed out onto the porch. As the screen slapped shut behind him, Tate tugged at the collar of his shirt, suddenly feeling suffocated. When he finally got in a gulp of air, he braced his hands on the railing, let it out on a rush, and shut his eyes.

The stillness of the night mocked him as the blood pounded in his head, and when he heard the door open and shut behind him, he didn’t have it in him to turn and see who it was. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he was ready to see anyone just then.

As the initial wave of anxiety eased and the soft footfalls of sandals met his ears, he knew before she came up beside him that it was Jill who had followed him outside, and Tate wondered how much convincing of Logan she’d had to do to let her be the one to come find him.

When she came to a stop beside him, he opened his eyes to see her hands resting on the rail by his, but he didn’t turn to greet her. Instead, the two of them stood there staring out from their childhood home for the first time in four years.

It was surreal.

“Tate,” Jill said so softly he almost missed it. But then she placed a hand on his arm, and he felt his eyes dampen.

Damn it.

“Tate. I want you to know the kids, Cooper and Jonathon, they’ve missed you terribly. They have no idea what happened.”

Tate flinched at the mention of his nephews’ names and steeled himself against the fist that took a tight hold of his heart. He actually brought a hand up to rub it against his chest, it ached so damn much.

This right here. This pain? This loss? It was what he’d been dreading tonight.

His nephews. Those innocent boys. They had become ghosts to him. Buried somewhere inside himself, along with the mother he’d never see again. And somewhere in the darkest corners of his mind, he was aware that was why he’d gravitated so heavily to Lila. Thomas, he was a trigger Tate hadn’t allowed himself too close to. And while he’d spoken to Logan about Jill and the boys in the past, he’d never quite allowed himself to go there. He hadn’t been able to.

The wetness in his eyes wasn’t going away anytime soon. So, with a clenched jaw, he finally faced Jill. “How? How do they not know?”

She brought a hand to her mouth, and as tears rolled down her cheeks, Tate knew he was close to losing the same battle.

“They think you went away, overseas for work for a little while.”

“Fuck, Jill,” he said, and looked away from her, unable now to stop his tears. She stepped in closer to him, but Tate couldn’t bear the proximity and backed up.

“I know. There’s so much I have to answer for. Sometimes I don’t know how I look at myself in the mirror.” When Tate said nothing, she whispered, “I want to make this right. They miss you and would love to see you. But I wasn’t going to bring them here. Not tonight. This was not a conversation for children.”

Tate knew that, and agreed one hundred percent.

“But,” Jill said, and then stopped, fiddling with her hands. “What about next weekend?”

Tate gave her an incredulous look, and when he tried to speak, he barely recognized the gravelly tone to his voice. “No. I—”

“Please,” she said. “Before you say no, just think about it. We’re having a small get-together with some old friends. Some of your old friends. People we grew up with.”

Tate ran a palm over his face and shook his head. “I don’t think so. From past experience, it’s the people I grew up with that seem to have the worst reactions.”

Jill had the good sense to look ashamed, but then she said something that brought Tate up short. “Just because your family reacted one way, doesn’t mean you should write others off without giving them a chance. These people were your friends, and you disappeared from their lives.”

“And why do you think that is?” Tate said, defensive and annoyed that she had stumbled onto something he’d never really taken the time to examine closely.

“I know why. I’m just saying that I bet they’d love to see you again.”

Tate spun away from her and once again braced his arms on the railing. He didn’t want to talk about this. Not anymore.

“You and Logan should come. Think about it. The boys, they’d love it.”

Tate swallowed around the lump that seemed to have lodged in his throat. “I’ll think about it. But I’m not promising anything.”

“Okay then.” He heard Jill’s footsteps as she headed back to the front door, but before she opened it, she asked, “You ready to come back inside yet?”

“Nah. You go ahead. I’m gonna take a few more minutes out here, then I’ll come in.”

“You’re not going to smoke, are you?”

The question was so out of the blue and indicative of the years between them that had been missed that Tate stumbled over his response. Then he turned around and said, “No. I quit.”

“You did?”

Tate nodded. “Four years ago.”

A smile crossed Jill’s lips, and she indicated with a thumb over her shoulder to inside the house. “That’s another thing I have to thank him for, right?”

“Right.”

“I like him. He’s a straight shooter.”

“That he is.”

“Okay, I’ll see you back inside.”

“See you.”

And as Jill disappeared inside their father’s house, she left him alone with the night and his thoughts, both of which Tate wished he could’ve escaped right then.