“GOOD MORNING, TIFFANY,” Logan said, as he stepped off the elevator Monday morning and crossed the lobby of Mitchell & Madison.

“Good morning, Mr. Mitchell,” Tiffany said, aiming a smile in his direction, and as Logan was about to return it, the loud sound of a drill started up. His feet faltered and he aimed his eyes up at the ceiling as if he could glare the noisy offender to death.

Damn renovations. The hammering and drilling had been nonstop for a couple of weeks now, and Logan had been close to bringing a bottle of ibuprofen to hand out to their colleagues at this morning’s meeting.

As he stopped in front of Tiffany’s desk, he sighed and rubbed at his temple. “That can’t go on all day, right?”

“I wish. They were at it when I got here, and I don’t see it stopping anytime soon.”

Shit, he could already feel the headache starting to throb at the base of his skull.

“On the plus side, we’re only here for three days this week, right?”

“Two for me,” Logan said, since he planned to take Wednesday off to help Tate at the bar.

“Here.” Tiffany reached under the counter, and when she held out her hand, Logan saw a small packet with earplugs in it. “These should help.”

Logan took them from her but had a feeling nothing would block out that noise other than leaving for the day. “Thanks, I’ll give them a go. Has Cole shown up yet?”

“Nope, you beat him in this morning.”

“Smart man. He’s probably avoiding this wonderful greeting to the week.”

Tiffany scrunched her nose up. “Probably. When he arrives, should I tell him you’re looking for him?”

Logan rapped his knuckles on the top of the counter and nodded as he began to walk away. “If you could, that’d be great. I assume Sherry’s here?”

“Yes, sir.”

Logan stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Tiffany. “Okay, Mr. Mitchell I can deal with. Sir makes me feel ancient.”

She laughed, and when she was about to speak, the drilling started up again, and she winced instead. Logan gave a quick wave and then hurried off through the double doors, hoping the inside of the offices would provide some kind of sound barrier—they didn’t. If anything, it sounded louder.

He headed toward his office—well, what would be his office for at least a few more weeks—and when he got inside, he hung up his coat and walked over to his desk. The jackhammering had ceased for the moment, and when Logan sat down, he shut his eyes and enjoyed the silence he knew would be short-lived, his mind drifting to earlier that morning and breakfast with Tate.

They’d been discussing the things they needed to get at the store tonight for Thanksgiving, and Logan got caught up thinking about how different his life was turning out to be.

Instead of being the confirmed bachelor, the man married to his job and loving it, he realized he was now the man looking at the clock and counting down the hours until he got to go home to the one waiting for him, Tate—soon to be my husband. He also found himself looking forward to things he never dreamed would become highlights in his life. Family time with Cole, Rachel, and the kids, surrounded by people both he and Tate loved. Will. Tate’s sister and nephews. That full family circle. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d have, but realized he cherished more than he could imagine.

Life sure was full of surprises, that was something he was coming to learn, and he’d be damned if Tate wasn’t the best surprise he never saw coming.

When a knock sounded on his door, Logan opened his eyes to find Cole pushing it open.

“Morning,” Cole said as he wandered inside, briefcase in hand.

Logan made a show of looking at his watch. “Get held up this morning?”

“I did, yes. Lena took the kiddos last night for a play date with their cousins, and I was making the most of my alone time with my wife.”

“Good for you, brother.”

“Yes…it was,” Cole said as he took a seat. “So, did you and Tate have a good weekend?”

“We did, yes. Spent yesterday with his dad, since you were otherwise occupied.” Logan smiled. “Actually, we had to talk to him anyway.”

“Oh? Is everything okay?”

Logan sat up in his chair and nodded. “Everything’s fine. But there’s also something I need to ask you.”

Cole frowned, and his blond eyebrows drew together. “Yes?”

“It’s nothing bad. Stop looking so serious.”

“I’m not. This is my listening face.”

Logan laughed. “Suddenly, I feel sorry for the teenage version of your children.”

Cole sighed. “Do you have something to ask me or not?”

“Oh, right: Thanksgiving this year. Do you think Rachel would mind if we had it at our place?”

“Are you kidding me? She’d be thrilled.” Cole chuckled as he crossed one of his legs over the other. “That way she doesn’t have to clean like a madwoman for the next few days.”

“Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Please. As if you ever have anything other than an immaculate house. You don’t have kids or an animal—”

“Which is just the way I like it.”

“Yes. We’re all well aware of your aversion to things that could potentially mess up your wardrobe.”

Logan grabbed the red stress ball off his desk and tossed it in the air. “Whatever, asshole. I pay good money for these threads. I don’t need grubby little hands or fur all over it.”

“Uh huh. So, Thanksgiving at Wicker Park. How fancy.”

“It will be if your wife still agrees to help cook it. If not, it will just be pizza and beer at Wicker Park.”

“Ah, I see. So basically, we’re just changing locations.”

Logan caught the ball and nodded. “Pretty much—and adding a few people. Tate and I thought it might be nice to make this the first time we had his father over with all of us, and, umm, there’s one other thing…” Logan paused, knowing that this likely wasn’t going to go over well, but at the same time knew he had to tell Cole that: “Evelyn’s coming, too.”

Cole’s smile dropped immediately, and as Logan’s words seemed to compute, his expression morphed to one of disbelief. Logan was about to say something reassuring—at least, he thought he was, but Cole got to his feet, his annoyance written all over his face.

“Cole, wait a second.”

“You must be crazy if you think I’m going to have Thanksgiving with that woman,” he said, his eyes narrowing.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either. But she’s in town, and—”

“Logan, I won’t have my wife and children spend the holidays with my father’s mistress.”

Stunned at Cole’s outburst, Logan’s mouth fell open. He hadn’t even thought of it like that.

“I can’t believe you thought I’d be okay with this.”

“It’s not like you haven’t met her before,” Logan pointed out as he slowly got to his feet.

“That’s different. Her coming in here and me having to be polite is completely different than sitting down and eating dinner with the woman who had a kid with my father.”

“Hey, fuck you,” Logan said, his temper now rising. It wasn’t like this was going to be a walk in the park for him either.

Cole turned on his heel and was well on his way to leaving the office when Logan remembered the main reason he’d said yes to Evelyn, and why he wanted his family together in the first place.

“Cole,” Logan said as he came around the desk.

“Leave it, Logan.”

“Would you wait a goddamn minute?”

Cole froze with his hand on the doorknob, and Logan took in a deep breath. It hadn’t even occurred to him how difficult this might be for Cole, being face to face with Evelyn, but it should have. Second to Tate, there was no one more important in Logan’s life than his brother, and if he had to get on his knees and beg Cole to be there for this announcement, then beg he would. “I know this has got to be…difficult.”

Cole’s shoulder’s stiffened, but Logan wasn’t deterred as he moved beside him and leaned against the wall by the door.

“Evelyn’s not my favorite person either. But just think, if it wasn’t for her, you wouldn’t have me,” Logan said, and flashed Cole a winning smile. “And you love me.”

Cole dropped his hand by his side. “I hope you have a more convincing argument up your sleeve than that.”

Logan shrugged and slipped his hands into his pockets. “Umm, only that Thanksgiving wouldn’t be the same without you guys there. Please don’t make me beg.”

Cole rolled his eyes, but his lips curved. “Oh, I don’t know. That might be good for your character.”

Logan placed a hand on Cole’s arm and said with the utmost seriousness, “I want you there. Promise me you’ll come.”

Cole sighed and then nodded. “Fine. We’ll be there. But don’t expect me to play nice with her.”

“Huh, I don’t even know if I can play nice with her. It’ll be interesting, that’s for sure.”

Cole brought a hand up to rub at his chin, and as he did, he said, “I’m sorry for what I said back there. You caught me off guard.”

“I know.”

“It was just a knee-jerk reaction.”

“I know.”

“I wouldn’t trade you for— Well, I won’t say anything. I’m sure something could tempt me.”

Logan punched Cole in the arm, and as they both laughed, the tension in the room finally dissipated. “I shouldn’t have just assumed you’d be okay with it. I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay,” Cole said. “We’ll work it out, I’m sure.”

“Yes, well, I told her to bring a lot of alcohol, so that should help. And Tate is amazing in—”

“Tense family situations?”

“Yes. Sad that that’s a thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Cole said, and then shrugged. “But all families have their baggage.”

“This is true. So, uh, back to what we were talking about. You don’t think Rachel will mind that there are a couple of extra people coming?”

“Not at all. You do remember the close to orgasmic reaction my wife had to your double oven range, don’t you? I’ll ask her, but I’m positive she will be fine, as long as we’re all there to assist.”

“Good point. Tell her to email me everything she needs. We’re going to take care of it tonight.”

Cole’s eyebrow winged up. “Look at you being all domestic.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Any other bombs you want to drop this morning?”

Yes, there was, but that wasn’t only his to tell, so Logan shook his head just as the drilling started up again.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Cole groaned and looked at the ceiling. “I was hoping that was done with last week.”

“Apparently not. It seems you’re not the only one who was in the mood to drill something this morning.”

Cole cast a really? look his way. “You were dying to use that some way or another, weren’t you?”

“Yep,” Logan said, and flashed Cole an unrepentant grin. “And unlike you, I don’t have court at all today, so after the morning meeting, I think I’m going to take my laptop and head down to the bar for some peace and quiet.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s the only reason you’re going there. Last time I checked, your big, beautiful house was nice and quiet too.”

“True. But all this talk of drilling and suddenly I want to go where I can spend a few hours pretending to work while I stare at Tate’s ass.”

“That sounds more accurate.”

Logan shrugged. “Hey, I tried.”

“Sure you did. So, I’ll see you in the conference room in thirty?”

“I’ll be there,” Logan said. “Is Priest going to make it?”

“No. He called. His flight got held up this morning, so he won’t be in until later.”

“Oh, I haven’t checked my messages. This is his last trip for a while, though, right?”

“That’s what he said. He just had to wrap up a few things with his old firm.”

Logan nodded. “No doubt he’ll still have to go out there, since some of his biggest clients are in L.A.…”

“Right, but not anytime soon,” Cole said. “Stop being a nosey bastard. Wendy logged his travel time and expenses. It’s work-related.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t.”

“I think it’s nice to have someone who isn’t so—”

“Needy?” Logan suggested.

“Well, I wasn’t going to describe you so harshly, but since you’ve been nothing but irritating already today…yes. Oh, and don’t forget: Morty Hawthorne is coming to town the first week of December.”

“I know. Dinner on the eighth. I told Tate to keep it open.”

“Okay, good.”

“It’s hard to believe he’s been on board with us since we started.”

“I know,” Cole said, then reached for the handle and opened the door. “Hard to believe he was our first client. Took a chance on two hotshot newbies who had—”

“More fire under their asses than brains in their heads,” Logan finished.

Cole started to laugh at Logan’s imitation of one of their most beloved and loyal clients. “Hopefully that has since reversed.”

“Or just become more balanced.”

“For one of us, anyway.”

Logan aimed a choice finger Cole’s way and then gestured to the open door with his head. “Okay, I’m done with you. Get out.”

Cole walked through the door and headed down the hallway, and as Logan watched him go, he heard him say, “Going…”

* * *

“JILL? HEY, HOW you doing today?” Tate said into the phone he had cradled between his shoulder and ear while he unlocked the front door to The Popped Cherry.

It had just turned ten, and Logan had called a little earlier to ask if he could meet Tate there for a couple of “peaceful” hours before opening. Peaceful as in, anywhere without what felt like a jackhammer drilling through Logan’s skull—or so Tate had been told. He understood that; the racket that came from a renovation was enough to make anyone’s brain want to explode. And when you were trying to concentrate on all the paperwork Logan did in a day, peace and quiet would be the preferable option.

“I’m good, Tate. How are you?” Jill asked. “And Logan?”

As Tate stepped inside and shut the door, he shrugged out of his coat and headed down the stairs that led to the main floor. “We’re great. Was just calling to check in and see how you were doing.”

Tate had promised himself he wouldn’t let months go without contacting Jill, so he’d made it a point to give her a buzz this morning. Things had started to feel easier between them a couple of weeks back, when he and Logan had gone to her house for a get-together. But he’d been so preoccupied with Logan and everything going on between them that he hadn’t really put in as much of an effort with his sister as he probably should’ve.

“We’re good, really good,” Jill said. “I was just getting ready to run out for a few last-minute things before we hit the road. You remember Sam’s family is from Dubuque, we go there for Thanksgiving each year.”

Tate came to a stop midway across the main floor as her words registered with him. Wow. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised by the news; he knew Jill wasn’t close with their father anymore, but knowing that had also affected his nephew’s relationship with him made Tate’s heart ache for the old guy. They deserved to know their granddad. They deserved to know their uncles. Hmm. Maybe we could all get together at Dad’s house on Christmas Eve when we stop by. Yeah, that’s perfect.

“Jill?” he said, and ran a hand over the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Do you have plans Christmas Eve?”

“No, I don’t think so. We usually stay home and open a gift at midnight. You know, like we did when we were kids?”

Tate smiled, remembering how long Jill used to take to decide which gift she wanted to open first, whereas he just grabbed the closest—or the biggest. “I remember. Look, why don’t you bring the kids to Dad’s? Logan and I are going to be there, and I know he’d love to have them over.”

“Tate, I—”

“Jill,” he said, cutting off what he knew would be her polite decline. “I know things between you and Dad have been tense over the years, but come on. It’s time for that to change, don’t you think? If you and I can be in the same room together, then I’m pretty sure you can work shit out with Dad.”

“I don’t know…”

Tate sympathized with her indecision. There was a lot of anger, guilt, and disappointment still lingering in the air between the Morrison clan. But there was something about the holidays, something about coming together with those who loved you, that could make even the most uncomfortable situations tolerable.

“What did you recently tell me?” Tate said, as he headed behind the bar. “Don’t judge people so quickly. Give them a chance to surprise you.”

“We’re not talking about strangers here, Tate. We’re talking about Dad.”

“Yeah, we are. And if I could forgive him for the shit he said to me when I started dating Logan, then you can work out whatever it is going on with you two and move past it.” There was a pause, and though he didn’t want to ask, Tate heard himself say, “Is it because of Mom? Do you still—” Tate’s words left him then, and he figured it was probably because he didn’t really want the answer.

Letting out a sigh, he made himself just spit it out. “Do you still see her around the holidays? Spend time with her?”

“No,” Jill said immediately. “No. I haven’t seen her for years. But you know how it was after you left. Things got really…really messed up.”

Shit, Tate thought. This has to stop. The only way they were all going to have any kind of relationship was to move forward, to learn to trust one another again, and that didn’t just mean him. It also meant Jill and their father.

He leaned up against the back counter and shut his eyes, wishing life could just be fucking easy for a change. As that thought entered his mind, Tate heard the side door of the bar open and saw Logan step through it, briefcase in hand, peacoat swirling around him, and he was the most welcome sight in the world.

Yeah… It was time to move forward. Tate wanted to resolve the tension within his family once and for all, so he could concentrate on what was most important to him, and that was joining his life with Logan’s in all ways—the sooner the better.

“Okay, look,” Tate said as he wandered down the bar to where Logan was and leaned over so he could greet him with a kiss. When he raised his head, Logan gestured over his shoulder with his thumb to the booths, and then turned to head back to the one he favored. “I would love it if you and Sam brought the kids over to Dad’s for Christmas Eve. That way, I can finally spend a Christmas with them. It’s been years, Jill—it would mean a lot to me.”

Tate kept his eyes on Logan as he reached their table and then slid into the seat, and it didn’t escape his notice that Logan had situated himself so that when he looked up—yeah, just like that—he was staring directly at Tate from behind those black-framed glasses.

“Are you sure Dad won’t mind?” Jill said, and when Logan winked at him, Tate forgot what she was asking. “Tate?”

“Huh? Oh, I’m positive.” And somehow, deep down in his bones, Tate knew he was right. His father and Jill were just stubborn. Much like himself.

“Okay,” Jill said softly, and Tate thought he heard her voice crack. “I think they’d love that, and so would I.”

“Good.”

“Okay, then. If you shoot me a text with the time, we’ll be there. And Tate?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for thinking of us. The boys will be thrilled.”

“So am I. It’s been too long since we spent the holidays together. We’ll see you then.”

“See you then,” she said, and then they disconnected the call.

As Tate lowered the phone to the counter, Logan looked up from his computer and didn’t have to say a word—his expression said everything: Come and talk to me. Tell me what’s on your mind. And that was exactly what Tate had been talking about last night. Logan’s ability to make everything okay, to make his world right again, merely by being in it.