FALL. IT HAD always been Tate’s favorite time of the year, and as he stood in his father’s backyard that Sunday afternoon under the large maple tree, he realized it still was. He was bundled up in his beanie and coat, the chilly November wind whipping around his legs, kicking up the red and orange leaves that blanketed the grass out back, and he remembered doing this particular chore as a child.

Back then, he’d grumbled about it, even though it was a way for him to earn a couple of extra dollars before the holiday season. But as he stood there with a rake in hand on this particular Sunday, he couldn’t wipe the grin from his face, because standing up on his father’s porch with a coffee in hand was the one person who made any day, any chore—hell, anyfuckingthing in my life—better because he was a part of it. Logan Mitchell. My fiancé.

As that new title of Logan’s ran through Tate’s mind, he rested his palm on top of the wooden handle and took a moment to study the attractive man leaning against one of the columns of his childhood home.

It had been a week since they’d gotten back from the Lynley Winery, and the two of them had left that bed and breakfast with a secret they were enjoying settling into more and more each day.

Fiancé.

Engaged.

Married.

Husband.

They were words Tate had never dreamed would be a reality between him and Logan, but now that they were, he couldn’t stop the way they sent a wave of pleasure through him, and he was getting antsy wanting to tell others.

As if Logan could read his mind—or more likely my ridiculous grin—his full lips tilted into a knowing smile, and just as he had for the past week, Tate caught himself thinking of that night. That moment Logan had agreed to be his.

Logan.

Always and forever…Logan.

* * *

CONTRARY TO SOME people’s opinions, change can be easy, Logan thought, as he eyed Tate in the far back corner of his father’s yard raking up leaves, because there was nothing he wanted more than to legally bind himself to that gorgeous man down there.

In boots, faded jeans, and a matching jacket and beanie, Tate looked at home pushing leaves into piles, and when he spotted Logan up on the porch, he stopped and gave Logan a look that had him leaning against the column for support.

Damn, but I love that smile. He looks so…satisfied, Logan thought, and he liked that. Yep, that smug expression makes my heart skip and trip all over itself because he’s mine. Mine to make happy. Mine to love. My responsibility. Now and forever…

The sound of the back door opening had Logan glancing over his shoulder to see Will coming outside holding two mugs. As he came up beside Logan and looked down at his son, Tate held his index finger up, indicating just a minute more, and Will nodded and placed one of the mugs down on the railing.

“He used to throw a fit when I made him do that as a kid,” Will said, and took a sip of his coffee. “Would spend the entire time bitchin’ and moanin’ that it wasn’t fair he had to rake the yard and Jill didn’t. And instead of it taking him thirty minutes, he’d be out there a couple of hours, complaining the whole way through.”

Logan chuckled imagining a young, obstinate Tate. “You mean he’s always been a stubborn pain in the ass? Nooo, you lie.”

Will’s eyes cut to him and a sly smirk curled his lips. “Uh huh. Not sure where he gets that from.”

Logan arched an eyebrow and then looked back to the man under discussion. This was the first time he’d spoken to Will since, well, since that horrible night when they’d talked on the phone. And even though Will hadn’t outright asked if everything was okay between him and Tate, Logan knew Tate’s dad was curious as to what had happened. He could tell by the way Will had been watching them extra closely throughout lunch today.

“So…” Will said, as he leaned against the rail. “How are you?”

Fucking amazing, was what Logan wanted to say. It was the truth, too, even though that wasn’t what Will was referring to.

Logan had been floating around on cloud nine for the past week. But both he and Tate had decided to keep their news to themselves a little longer. They wanted to enjoy it before involving everyone else, because they knew once that cat was out of the bag, there’d be no way to stuff it back in.

“I’m doing good, Will. Much better than since we last talked.”

Will cocked his head to the side and pinned Logan with the same direct look his son possessed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Logan said before turning away. “While we’re here, though, I wanted to thank you for…you know…”

“I know,” Will said, and clapped him on the back, and when he left his hand there on Logan’s shoulder and squeezed, offering comfort without words, Logan gathered his courage and met Will’s stare head-on. “You two seem to have worked things out.”

Logan barely managed to curb the impulse to blurt out, Yes, I’m going to marry your son, but he did. It wouldn’t be long until Will would know just how worked out things were. Actually, that was why they were there today, to invite Will to their house for Thanksgiving.

They’d decided it would be a good idea to have both of their families together for the first time so they could announce their engagement. What better way to let everyone in our life know than all at once, right? Even though the idea of such a public spectacle made Logan a little jittery, if he were honest.

As Tate picked up the rake and headed in their direction, Logan said, “Everything between us is great. You don’t need to worry. I promise.”

Will let go of him and took another sip of his coffee as he too watched Tate’s approach. “I was never worried about that, son. As long as you were both breathing, it was never going to be too late for you.”

And that, Logan thought, sums us up perfectly now, doesn’t it? “I agree,” he said. “He’s meant to be mine, Will. I knew that from the minute I met him.”

Logan wasn’t sure how such a possessive comment would go over with Tate’s father, but that was how he felt, and he wasn’t about to temper his emotions.

“He knew it too,” Will said, catching Logan totally off guard. “I always thought he was happy, you know, before you? But God.” He gave Logan a crooked smile. “The way he lights up when he talks about you? Or when you walk into a room? That’s love. That’s happiness. That connection you two share is incredibly special. Plus, you make him act like a clumsy teenager when you look at him.” Will chuckled. “So, I’m pretty sure he knows who he belongs to. But that works both ways, you know.”

“Oh, believe me. I know,” Logan said as he looked down at the one whose happiness was his first and only concern. Then he sobered.

There’d been something niggling at him over the last couple of days, something worrying him, and he figured this was as good a time as any to ask about it, because if anyone was going to know the answer, it would be Will.

Logan ran over the words a few times in his head, and then watched as Tate placed the rake against the side of the house and brushed his hands off on his jeans.

“Will?”

“Yeah, Logan?”

“Can I… Do you mind if I ask you something about Tate and Jill?”

Will’s lips tightened as he kept an eye on Tate, but he gave a quick nod. “Of course. What’s bothering you?”

How to ask without sounding rude… Oh hell, just ask him. You only want to know to protect his son.

“Do you think it’s a good thing?” When Will brought his eyes back to Logan’s, they had narrowed, and Logan wondered if maybe he’d overstepped. “You know, her being back in his life? She’s… I don’t know what I’m trying to say. You don’t think she’s going to hurt him again like she did before, do you?”

Will’s fingers tightened on the coffee mug, and Logan realized for the first time that this…this was why Will had lost contact with his daughter. Her treatment of her brother, his son—it hadn’t sat well with him at all.

“I’d like to say no, but I never thought it would take her as long as it did to come around this first time. Listen,” Will said, a frown forming between his eyebrows. “Those two were thick as thieves when they were kids. Jill adored her older brother, and Tate? He loved his little sister. I would never stand between them trying to mend fences, but…”

But what? Logan wanted to demand. But instead, he waited for whatever words of wisdom Will was going to pass along.

“Take it slow there,” he finally said. “Be careful. From what I understand, you and your brother are very close.”

Logan thought of Cole and their relationship, and yes, against all odds, they were extremely close. So close that Logan had felt guilty for keeping the engagement a secret from him. Cole was going to kick his ass. “Yes. We’re close. But I’m pretty sure they love Tate more than me.”

“Is that right?”

Logan nodded. “As soon as they met him, they loved him. Well, Cole thought he needed his head examined for having anything to do with me. But Rachel? She loved him, no questions asked.”

When Will winced, Logan immediately wanted to take back his words. He hadn’t meant to say that, not to Will. Because even though Tate’s father had questioned them in the beginning, he’d come around fast and had been amazing ever since.

Logan reached out to touch Will’s arm, and when they locked eyes, Logan said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“I know. But it’s the truth. And sometimes the truth still hurts to hear. I did question the both of you—”

“But you came around in the end,” Logan said, and then shrugged. “That’s water under the bridge between us. You’ve been more of a father to me in the past three years than I’ve ever had in my life.”

“Well, that’s something, then, isn’t it?”

Logan didn’t realize until now how important it was that he tell this man how he felt, but as they stood there, he heard himself say, “It certainly is.”

Will smiled and gave a nod of understanding. “Just go slow with Jill. I think her heart is in the right place, but like you, I don’t want to see my boy hurt again. He’s been through enough already.”

“Agreed.”

As they both looked over to Tate, who was now walking in their direction, Will crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m still working on my own relationship with Jill. There’s a lot of history there, and while I don’t think they’ll ever have what they did, maybe they can have something. And that would be better than nothing.”

It hurt Logan’s heart to hear that, but at the same time, he knew it to be true—because really, how did you ever get over something like what Tate had gone through? How did you ever trust someone who’d hurt you as badly as Jill had hurt Tate? And that had been Logan’s problem. He didn’t quite trust her yet, not enough to just jump in headfirst, and he was glad to hear he wasn’t the only one.

“Thank you,” Logan found himself saying yet again to the man beside him. “This really helped.”

“Anytime,” Will said, and Logan believed him. He could call on this man anytime for advice, and Will would be there to give it. And wasn’t that a crazy thought? Logan was going to get to call Will family for real, soon, and that made him pretty damn happy.

The sound of boots on wood had Logan looking over to see Tate climbing up the back stairs, and when he reached for the beanie and drew it off his head, Logan’s fingers itched to run through his curls.

Once Tate got to the landing, he planted a kiss on Logan’s cheek and took the cup of coffee from his father, groaning as his cold hands wrapped around the warm ceramic.

“What are you two talking about up here?” he asked, and Logan shrugged, not about to divulge all of that.

“Oh, just a certain stubborn man we both know,” Logan said, and reached out to finger one of Tate’s curls, unable to resist. “Your dad was telling me that isn’t a new trait you possess, but one you were honing even as a child.”

Tate rested his ass up against the rail. “And who do I get that from, old man?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Will said.

“Sure you don’t,” Tate said, angling his head in his father’s direction. “You can thank him for my stubbornness.”

Logan let his eyes move between father and son. “If you think I’m going to thank him for that, you’ve lost your mind.”

“Because you’re such a walk in the park,” Tate joked, cradling his mug in both hands.

“Excuse me,” Logan said. “I’m much easier to please than you are.” Tate let out a boisterous laugh, and when Logan realized what he’d said, he shook his head. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Morrison. Your father is right here, for God’s sake.”

“As if anything could shock him at this point where you’re concerned.” Tate waggled his eyebrows, and Logan knew he was thinking about the surprise they planned to deliver to everyone this coming week.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Logan said. “I still think I could shock him. But how about you try and behave yourself and ask your father what we came over here to ask him?”

Tate rested his coffee cup on the rail beside him and aimed a smile in his father’s direction, and when Will looked between the two of them, Tate said, “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”