IT WAS STRANGE how a life could change in the blink of an eye. How someone’s perception of things could alter in a nanosecond due to one look or word depending on the mood or the timing, or even the person they were with. And sometimes, when that happened, there was no explaining why. It just…happened.

Well, that was what Logan Mitchell had been telling himself for the past month, ever since he and Tate had returned home from New Buffalo, where he’d had one of those life-changing moments.

Yes, life-changing. That was about the only way he could sum it up. Or mind-altering. Maybe even some kind of physical metamorphosis? And that wasn’t even him being dramatic, Logan thought, as he heard the shower in the en suite turn on.

No. This was apparently what happened after one was blindsided by a realization he’d never thought he would entertain in his life. A realization brought into sharp clarity by the man behind that bathroom door.

William Tate Morrison.

God, just his name alone made Logan’s body undergo an immediate reaction. Whether it be a ridiculous smile on his face at the mention of it, or the urge to slide his damn hand between his legs because he wanted to groan it out loud. The person who belonged to that name had managed to completely alter what Logan had always assumed would be the trajectory of his life. And this past trip to the cabin had been the biggest shift of all.

It was a cosmic fucking shift of epic proportions that had turned his entire world, and him, on his ass. And all because of one little word that had popped into his head and would not leave—marriage.

As if that wasn’t alarming enough, every time he found himself alone in his office lately, he was about two steps away from doodling his and Tate’s name on a notepad with 4 Ever underneath, surrounded by a heart.

Shit, he was really starting to worry over his state of mind, because for the life of him he couldn’t work out what the hell had caused this sudden change in him. And there had to be a reason for it. Right?

“Logan?” Tate’s voice filtered into the bedroom where he’d left him around ten minutes ago, and Logan tried to shove aside his current thoughts and replace them with more neutral ones, because that was another thing he was getting really great at. Not hiding the fact that his brain was twenty million miles away. He hadn’t missed Tate’s questioning looks lately, but luckily they’d had so much else going on in the past month that he’d been able to hide this particular bit of crazy under all of the other. “You better not have fallen back asleep out there.”

Logan stretched under the sheets as the door opened and steam billowed into their bedroom, and just like that, any worry he’d been having vanished at the sight of Tate wrapped in a navy-blue towel and nothing else.

Shoving aside the sheet, Logan was on his feet and crossing over to where Tate was rubbing his damp curls, and when Logan stopped opposite him, Tate paused to greet him. “Mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Logan said, placing a hand on Tate’s chest as he kissed him. “You’re up before me. Something important happening today that I should know about?” He was only joking, of course, because while he’d been lying in bed thinking about the giant distraction that wouldn’t leave his head, there was a much more immediate life-changing event that was already here. A huge change that had already been signed and set in motion. Brought to fruition. And that was about to happen right now. Today.

Tate’s lips split into a wide grin that was downright contagious. “Hmm… I don’t know. Maybe. But if you don’t take your hands off me and get your fine ass in the shower, we’ll never find out, will we?”

Logan flirted his fingers down the light dusting of Tate’s treasure trail. “You should’ve woken me. That way we’d both be finished with our shower and be on our way already.”

“Sure we would’ve,” Tate said as he resumed rubbing the towel over the back of his head. “If I’d woken you, we would still be in the shower and would more than likely miss our appointment. Don’t even pretend otherwise.”

Logan’s fingers slipped behind the towel, which he gripped and then asked, “Since when have you ever cared about being on time?”

“Since today. Plus, you’ve been sleeping like shit lately, so I figured I’d give you an extra ten minutes where you weren’t tossing and turning.”

Well, hell, Logan thought. Guess Tate was paying closer attention than he’d thought. “Just a lot going on with work renovations and—”

“I figured. But you need to find a way to start unwinding at night.” Tate brought two fingers up and gently pushed them to the middle of Logan’s forehead. “Turn off that big brain of yours.”

If only it was that easy. “I can try and do that,” Logan said, and then he tugged the towel from Tate’s hips and lowered his gaze down his naked body. “As long as you promise to help by turning on something else that’s big of mine instead.”

“I’m sure I could work something out,” Tate told him, and when Logan dropped the material and reached for him, Tate took a step back and added, “Later.” He then pointed to the shower and said, “Go. We have to be across town in an hour.”

Logan arched an eyebrow at the order but finally gave in. “Fine. I’m going. But for the record, this better be the only time you ever tell me to go away while standing in front of me hard and naked, or I might develop a complex.”

“I’m hard because you’re naked. How is that giving you a complex? Now get in the shower. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Logan gave in to the urge to give Tate one more thorough perusal, and then, without another word, headed into the bathroom. As the door shut behind Tate and the steam from the shower started to fill the stall, Logan looked at the glass doors, and yeah, had to hold back that absurd urge from earlier.

There would be no hearts left on the clear panes of their shower this morning. No 4 Evers underneath it either. But damn if he wasn’t tempted by that bossy fucker who’d just ordered him in there like a petulant child.

Christ, he was totally sunk when it came to William Tate Morrison.

* * *

TATE TOSSED THE towel across the chair that sat in the corner of their bedroom and snagged a pair of briefs and faded jeans out of the closet. The sound of the running water had a grin playing on his lips as he pictured Logan grumbling the entire way through his shower. But not even his sexy ass was going to send Tate off course today. They had too much to do, and he was so damn amped up about where they were headed this morning that he was surprised he hadn’t spent the night the same way Logan had—tossing and turning.

Poor guy. Logan had so much on his plate right now, between the renovations at work and their own lives, that Tate was glad they were at least going to be able to cross one thing off that list today.

Ever since they’d returned from their weekend at the cabin, it felt as though their life had been in overdrive. Ironic, really, considering the two of them had come to the conclusion they wanted to scale back on things while away on that very trip. The thing was, though, they weren’t busy separately—they were busy rearranging their lives. It just somehow happened that once they’d started that ball rolling, it had picked up momentum and tumbled along much quicker than either of them ever expected. In a good way. But an insanely fast way, Tate thought, as he pulled out a white t-shirt to tug over his head before grabbing a grey linen button-up and shrugging it on, leaving it to hang open.

With his boots and socks in hand, he made his way out of the bedroom and into the living room of the condo that was currently littered wall to wall with sturdy moving boxes that were either halfway full or sitting empty ready to be packed. There was a giant roll of bubble wrap propped up by the kitchen island, and across the black marble counter were rolls of tape, a pair of scissors, and a couple of Stanley knives. Oh, and the four empty beer bottles they’d left there after they’d finished their initial rounds of prepacking the night before.

Tate wandered over to one of the recliners and dropped his boots on the floor before hunting down his cell phone, which he’d left by the coffee machine last night to charge. He had a quick call he needed to make this morning, but before he did, he checked for any messages he might have missed. When the only one he saw was from his father confirming the time for tomorrow’s dinner with Jill, he grimaced.

Dad: Six o’clock work for you guys? If so, see you then. Let me know if you need to change anything.

Tate swallowed around the lump in his throat as he read the text three more times than necessary. Yeah, okay. He was kind of guilty of having put that off. But they’d been busy, and, well, he’d discovered he needed a little more time to wrap his head around the idea of sitting down and stomaching a meal in that house again with Jill.

It was probably stupid, but even though his father had gone out of his way these last few years to make that place as welcoming as possible, the idea of seeing his sister there definitely impacted the sense of security he’d come to enjoy under that roof again.

Knowing he could no longer put it off, Tate shot back a quick reply to let his father know that that was fine, and made a promise to himself that he meant it. Then he put the phone down to grab Logan’s traveler’s mug and fill it for him so he’d have some when they were finally ready to go. He also grabbed two breakfast bars and a glass of juice for himself, before he picked his phone back up and scrolled through the contacts for the number he was looking for. Once he had it on his screen, he listened for the shower to make sure it was still running, took a bite of his bar, and then hit call.

Taking up a seat in the recliner, Tate lounged back and rested his ankle on his knee as he waited for the person at the other end to pick up. It didn’t take long, and then Cole’s voice was coming through the speaker.

“Hey, Tate. You’re up early for a Saturday. I thought only people with kids didn’t sleep in on the weekend.”

Tate laughed as he heard the sound of small voices in the background. “Hey yourself. And you would be right any other weekend.”

“Oh, that’s right. It’s the big day over there today, isn’t it?”

“Big weekend in general,” Tate said, and took a sip of his juice. “I don’t think we have a minute to spare over the next two days.”

“That’s what Logan was telling me. You guys are going to be exhausted come Monday.”

Tate thought of the next forty-eight hours and didn’t disagree. “Don’t be surprised if he calls in.”

“Yeah, right,” Cole said. “Josh is taking us on a walk-through of where our new offices are going to be. Do you really think Logan is going to sit out on that while Priest and I get first dibs on the choices available?”

Hell no, he didn’t. There wasn’t a chance Logan would miss that. He would likely be there roping off his section before anyone else even arrived. “Yeah, you might have a point.”

“Trust me, he’s been eyeing the specs ever since we started discussing the idea. He’ll be there. Even if it’s only to say ‘that’s mine’ and then leave.”

Tate chuckled over how accurate that statement was. If there was one thing Logan never had trouble expressing, it was what he considered his. Something Tate was intimately familiar with. He took another bite of his bar and then shoved that thought aside, determined not to get sidetracked. “How’s the Madison clan this morning?”

“The Madison clan is—” There was a loud clang and then the phone was muffled as Cole said, “Thomas, how many times have I told you not to ride that scooter in here?” There was a high-pitched “sorry,” and then Cole was back. “The Madison clan is trying to make their father old before his time. Sorry about that.”

“No problem,” Tate said, and smoothed a hand along his leg to rest it on his knee. “But speaking of getting older… While Logan’s not around, I wanted to ask you about his birthday.”

Cole laughed so loudly at that Tate couldn’t help but join in. “You’re a brave man saying that in the same vicinity as him.”

“He’s in the shower. My life is safe.”

“For now,” Cole said. “But have you forgotten who we’re talking about? Logan doesn’t do birthdays. Well, his own, that is.”

Tate hadn’t forgotten at all. He’d been battling about birthday celebrations with Logan for as long as they’d been together. Logan claimed he didn’t want to celebrate a day that merely signified he was getting one day closer to grey hair and a retirement home. Tate, however, knew there were other, more personal, reasons behind Logan’s adamant refusal to celebrate the day he was born. And after the first year, when he’d put up such a fight about it, Tate had let him off the hook.

Well, not this year. He wanted to do something special for Logan, and he was determined.

“Too bad,” Tate said. “He’s getting one this year whether he wants it or not.”

“Uhh…I don’t know if you’re brave or stupid,” Cole said around a laugh.

“Probably a bit of both. But I’m hoping you will be too.”

“Wait. You want me to help you plan a birthday get-together? For Logan?”

Tate’s lips twitched at Cole’s tone. “I was hoping.”

“You do know I have two young children to support and take care of, right? Why would you want to risk the life of their father?”

“Oh, come on,” Tate said. “It won’t be that bad. I mean, what’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I thought I just told you. My children could wind up fatherless. Why would you want to do that to them, Tate?”

Tate couldn’t stop his laughter at Cole’s serious tone. “Okay, well, how about you help me plan it and we’ll tell Logan that it was all me?”

There was a pause, and then Cole said, “You have great faith in how much he loves you. You know that, right?”

The comment was said in jest, but Tate did have great faith in how much Logan loved him. And he knew that even if Logan got annoyed over this, he’d eventually come around and see that Tate was doing it to celebrate him, not for any other reason.

“I do. Plus, he can never stay mad at me for too long.” Tate heard movement coming from the bedroom and got to his feet to put his empty glass in the sink, knowing he had to wrap things up before the man they were discussing emerged. “So, you in?”

Cole sighed. “I suppose. It’s your funeral. Just be sure to write down what kind of memorial service you’d like. I feel it’s the least I can do.”

“You’re really worried. Maybe he’ll surprise us,” Tate said.

“Oh, you poor, delusional man.”

“I’ll call when I work out more details.”

“Okay. Rachel will be all over this when she finds out also. So make sure you keep her name out of it too. I would like my children raised with a mother.”

“Mum’s the word.”

“God help us all,” Cole said. “Have a good weekend. Try not to run yourselves ragged.”

“Will do. See you guys soon.”

“See you, Tate.”

Just as Tate ended the call, Logan came out of the bedroom wearing pressed khaki slacks and a white and burgundy checkered shirt that was neatly tucked in at his trim waist, which was surrounded by a caramel-colored belt to match his leather shoes.

Never an item out of place, Tate thought, as Logan fastened his watch exactly where its rightful spot was on his left wrist.

When he came to a stop in the kitchen, Logan looked at him from behind his glasses and said, “Look at that. I have five minutes to spare.”

Tate brushed his lips across Logan’s, and when he went to pull away, Logan stepped forward and slid his hand around his waist beneath Tate’s loose shirt.

“Where do you think you’re going? I said I have five minutes to spare. Not seconds.”

Tate ran his eyes over the handsome face in front of him and said, “You need to eat something before we head out. We have a long day ahead of us. I put your coffee in your mug, and there’s a breakfast bar on the counter. You can bring it with us.”

Logan’s eyes drifted beyond Tate’s shoulder to the items and then came back to fasten on his. And the way they softened made Tate’s heart warm.

“Thank you. Did you eat?” Logan asked.

“Juice and a bar just a second ago.” Tate then stepped around Logan and headed for the side table in the cluttered foyer. “Let me grab my wallet and keys and we’ll get going, yeah?”

“Okay. Oh, and Tate?”

Tate looked over his shoulder to where Logan was now unwrapping his breakfast bar. “Yeah?”

“I’m super fucking excited about today. I just wanted you to know that in case I hadn’t said it with everything kind of crazy around here.”

Tate shoved his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans as Logan headed over to him with his mug in hand and a grin on his face.

Yeah, there’s no question about the love here, Tate thought, and reached for Logan’s hand. Let’s hope he remembers that when he wants to kick my ass next month. And with a smile over that thought, Tate led the two of them out the door of their condo and toward their first appointment of the weekend.