AS IT TURNED out, Tate had rented the Founder’s Room, a private function room that could be booked for small gatherings or larger, more corporate affairs, and today/tonight, it was all theirs.

Their bags had been taken off to their individual suites. Logan had been informed they were staying in the Italian Suite, and they were all now relaxing in front of a fireplace with several bottles of wine on the table, a port bottle that Logan had wanted to try, and a couple of sideboards packed with apple slices, grapes, fine and hard cheese, and fluffy homemade breadsticks.

There were a couple of small tables that sat four over by the windows, where Lena and Mason had just taken up a seat after finally arriving, along with Shelly and Josh. And over at the other table were Robbie and Rachel, who were talking about what color one of them—Logan wasn’t sure who—should color their hair. Cole was over on one of the two leather couches talking to Priest, and Logan had taken up a spot as close to Tate as publicly acceptable on the other couch.

Now that everyone had arrived, the sommelier, a middle-aged gentleman with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair who introduced himself as Dave, came out with a tray full of empty wine glasses and instructed them each to take two. Then he went back to the private bar around the corner of the room and quickly returned with four port snifters.

After handing those to Cole, Priest, Tate, and himself, Logan settled back in his seat and begrudgingly admitted that an afternoon/evening at a winery where he didn’t have to drive anywhere was really the perfect birthday present.

If he were into birthdays…which he was not.

“Okay, everyone, if I could get your attention. First, let me start off by saying welcome to the Lynley Winery Bed & Breakfast. We’re delighted that you’ve chosen to come and taste a few of our wines and, I see, some of our ports, as well as spend the night on our property. We have several tours that are offered daily, should you wish to take one tomorrow before you head home. And if I may be so bold as to recommend my own personal favorite, that would be the cellar tour, which will take you down under the property to where we keep all of the wine bottles and barrels.”

Logan leaned into Tate. “Maybe you and I could go and get lost down there now. Think anyone would miss us?”

Tate bumped his shoulder into Logan’s. “Behave, would you, birthday boy.”

“I will if you promise to stop calling me that.”

“Looks like I’ll have to keep you in line, then, because that is your name until tomorrow.”

Logan rolled his eyes, but then settled back into his spot and returned his attention to the man now holding up the first wine bottle.

“Tonight we’ll be starting with our ice wine. It has a tropical feel to it, and is for someone who likes something sweet on their palate.”

“Ohh, that sounds delicious,” Shelly said, and Robbie turned around to tell her, “I’ve had some amazing ice wines. This one sounds to die for from the description on the menu.”

“How about you just take that bottle over there?” Cole said, pointing toward the table where Robbie, Shelly, and Lena sat.

Rachel and Mason both turned their noses up, and Mason covered the top of his glass. “I’ll pass, thanks. We’ve got a few of those at Exquisite, and they’re a little too sweet for me.”

“Me too,” Rachel said, as she looked over the menu card in front of her. “But I’d love to try the Cuvée White. Does it really taste like buttered popcorn?”

Tate screwed his nose up in disgust. “Okay, you don’t even have the excuse that you’re pregnant for that oddball choice.”

“As far as we all know, anyway,” Logan said, aiming his eyes in Cole’s direction.

“Do you really think we’d come to a winery if Rachel were pregnant?” Cole asked.

“Can you please stop saying the P-word?” Shelly raised her glass and took a sip. “The children were all left home tonight for a reason. Except for Logan, but we needed him for the free food. Hmm, I just might need another bottle of that.”

“Certainly, ma’am,” Dave said as he hurried off to the bar area, and Shelly looked over to Logan. “So you turned, what? Forty-five this week?”

As Rachel laughed, and Shelly gave Logan a flirty wink.

“Fuck you, Dr. Monroe,” Logan said, and aimed a fake smile her way.

“Aww.” Shelly slipped off her chair and dug into her handbag for a small box before crossing over to Logan. “You wish you could’ve been lucky enough to experience that, Mitchell.”

Shelly handed him a beautifully wrapped box and kissed him on the cheek. “Happy birthday, you pain in the ass.” She turned to Tate with a devious smile on her face. “I mean, with an ego the size of his, I figure that nickname would be accurate, right? He’s got to have the equipment to match. My condolences.”

“Shelly,” Josh said.

“What?” she said, glancing at her husband before turning back to look down at Tate. “Did I offend you?”

Tate started laughing. “Not at all.”

“I figured,” she said, and then gestured to the box with her head as she took another sip of her wine. “Open it.”

“Geez,” Logan said, and looked around her toward Josh. “She always this bossy?”

“You don’t need to ask him. I’m right here.”

“And there’s your answer.” Josh chuckled. “You know Shel.”

“That I do,” Logan said as he looked up at the blonde who had, once upon a time, been his lifeline through a trauma he’d never imagined he’d have to deal with. And seeing her here like this was always such a kick, knowing how serious she was when it came to her job. “Okay, okay. Am I going to regret this?”

“No. It’s just a little something I saw, and thought of you.”

When she grinned at Tate, Logan let out a groan. “Yeah, I’m totally going to regret this.”

After he pulled the silver ribbon off the box and dropped it in Tate’s lap, Logan slipped off the lid and looked inside. There, nestled in black satin, were two sterling silver rectangular cuff links with something engraved on them. He reached inside, and when he pulled them out and read them, he groaned and glanced up at Shelly, who blew him a kiss.

“Imagine wearing those in a courtroom. You’d totally distract your opposing counsel. They’d be so curious.”

“Or they’d ask me on a date.”

“What do they say?” Tate asked, and Logan handed them over.

As soon as Tate was done reading them, he started laughing and held them up to read out loud the first one: “Mine’s twelve inches.” And then the second: “But I don’t use it as a rule.”

“You can thank me later after you start winning all your cases,” she said as she headed back to her seat.

“Yes, because that’s been such a problem for me lately,” Logan said. “Winning cases.”

“See?” Shelly said. “There’s that big…ego.”

Just as she sat back down, Dave came back with her bottle of wine and uncorked the Cuvée White for Rachel. He then came back around to where he’d put two bottles of red and picked up the first.

“Okay, who’d like to try the Sangiovese 2007 Reserve? It’s a rich, bold flavor of mocha and figs, very nice for the sophisticated palate.”

Logan glanced at Tate. “Better count you out, then, huh?”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Aren’t you the one who told me you didn’t know anything about all that fancy wine stuff?”

“Maybe,” Tate said, his eyes alight with humor.

“Then you better go and sit over there at the kiddies’ table,” Logan said, indicating in Robbie and Rachel’s direction with a tilt of his head. “This stuff is for the adults.”

Tate took hold of Logan’s chin and kissed his smart-talking lips. “You really want me to go and sit next to Robbie instead of you?” As Tate scraped his teeth over Logan’s bottom lip, he groaned.

Cole coughed from somewhere behind them, and when Logan waved him off, his brother said, “Uhh, do you two need a room?”

Tate’s eyes sparkled, and Logan wondered how long they had to wait before it was considered appropriate to leave. “No. Your voice was enough to dampen even my rampant desire, brother.”

“I’m so glad to hear it,” Cole said as Logan reluctantly turned away from Tate to face Dave, who was holding up the wine bottle and looking down at the two of them.

“Would you both like to try a glass?”

Logan smiled and then reached for his and Tate’s glasses. “We would, thank you.”

Dave poured two servings and then went around the room to fill glasses for Cole, Priest, Mason, and Josh.

As it turned out, the Sangiovese 2007 Reserve was by far the crowd favorite, and by the end of that second bottle, Tate had ordered a case for The Popped Cherry and Mason a case for Exquisite.

And if things kept up like this, Logan had a feeling there’d be many more winery trips in their future—only without the entourage, if he had any say.

* * *

SOMETIME LATER, EVERYONE was well on their way to being relaxed, and Tate was pleased to see that Logan had forgotten somewhere along the way to be annoyed about the whole birthday shindig.

They’d all moved out to the balcony for a little bit and taken up seats around a fire pit. There were a couple of outdoor heaters also, so even as the night took over from the day and the chill tried to chase them back inside, the alcohol and heaters were warming them all enough for now to enjoy themselves a little longer on the privacy of the deck.

Mason and Lena had said their goodnights around ten minutes ago, both tired after working all day, but the rest of them lounged around chatting about anything and everything—how Logan and Tate were finally settling into their new home, how Priest was getting ready to move into their old condo—and then Rachel decided to drop the mother of all bombs into the casual and friendly conversation just to make things…interesting.

“Okay, Priest. Since you’re the new guy and all, I think it’s time to fess up. Did you leave a girlfriend back in L.A.?” she asked, and then giggled. “Get it? Priest? Confess?”

Rachel had pretty much finished that bottle of buttered popcorn wine alone, since she was the only one who actually liked it, and it had left her more outgoing than usual. And, Tate had to admit, ridiculously amusing.

Cole wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek, and when she blushed like a schoolgirl and leaned in to deepen it, Logan held his port snifter out to Tate and said, “Can you please refill this before I lose my buzz? My eyesight is starting to come back, and I don’t really like what I’m seeing.”

Tate laughed, and as he reached for the bottle of cherry port they’d all gotten stuck into when they’d come out here, he felt Logan’s fingers trail up his leg. He turned back not seconds later, bottle in hand, and poured some of the Cherrivino into the snifter and then snuck a kiss from his lawyer. “You’re going to be the one who tastes like a cherry tonight.”

Logan sipped at the port and then waggled his eyebrows. “There’s a first time for everything. Want to suck on my seed?”

Fuck yes, I do, Tate thought, loving this flirtatious side of Logan even as his hand slipped higher up his leg, making it difficult for Tate to sit still. “You know I do.”

“Mhmm. Good. Then make sure you buy a couple of bottles of that for home, and one for later. It’s fucking delicious.”

And so are you, Tate thought, but then made himself turn back to the previous conversation before he lost all thread of it.

Rachel had just sat back and touched her fingers to her lips, but before a lawyer also distracted her, she turned to Priest and zeroed in on him again. She crossed her legs, rested her elbow on her knee, and said, “I’m not trying to be nosey or anything…”

“Yes, you are,” Cole said, and then laughed. “Just excuse her, she’s—”

“Curious,” Rachel interrupted. “I’m curious about the new guy to the group, that’s all. Everyone else I know about.”

“You don’t know about Robbie.” Priest’s voice was so cool and calm, you never would’ve known he’d drunk just as much as the rest of them.

“Well…” Rachel said, and then swung her gaze over to Robbie, whose face had turned the same shade as his scarlet vest. He looked as though he wanted to strangle Priest. “That’s not really true. I’ve been talking to him all night. But you,” she said, circling her finger in the air at Priest. “You are a mystery.”

“Am I?” Priest said, and Tate was close to backing Rachel up by agreeing, but he didn’t want to piss the guy off, so he stayed silent.

Rachel flashed a smile and then nodded. “Yep, totally mysterious. He used to be like that,” she said, gesturing with her thumb over her shoulder at Cole, and Logan let out a boisterous laugh.

“Ouch, brother,” Logan said, and Cole pinned him with a shut the hell up look, which only made Logan laugh louder.

Disregarding the two brothers, Rachel continued, “You have this”—she waved her hand around—“air about you.”

Priest downed the last sip of his wine and then said, cool as a cucumber, “The answer is no to the girlfriend back in L.A.”

“Like that’s a surprise.” At Robbie’s mumbled response, Priest turned in his direction, as did everyone else on the balcony. “Sorry, did I say that out loud?”

Shelly leaned over to Robbie, patted him on the thigh, and said in a stage whisper, “Yeah you did, sweet cheeks.”

“Shit,” Robbie said, and Logan singsonged, “I told you before… Thou dost protest too much.”

As Robbie glared daggers at Logan over the inside joke, Tate caught Shelly’s eyes narrow before Rachel went right back to grilling Priest.

“So no girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Wife?”

Priest screwed his nose up. “No.”

“Ohh.” Rachel held her finger up. “Boyfriend?”

Priest looked around at everybody staring at him with the best poker face Tate had ever seen, and he was around Logan and Cole weekly, so that was saying something. Then the guarded bastard turned back to Rachel and shook his head. “No.”

A frown hit her forehead, and she cocked her head as she regarded him for several beats. “Okay, I give up. Are you really a priest, then?”

Priest’s lips curled up on one side, and as he reclined in his chair, he shook his head and said, “Definitely no.”

“Ugh.” Rachel slumped back against Cole, who laughed and kissed her temple.

“Well, you tried.”

“I did,” she said, sounding utterly defeated. “He’s a fortress.”

That he fucking is, Tate thought. What did Logan call him? A vault? Tate wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders and saw Shelly look over at Priest and then back to Robbie before she aimed a cheeky wink at him and Logan. Oh shit, here comes trouble.

“Well, you know what I think?” Shelly said, and took a sip from her port glass. “Robbie’s single and you’re new in town, so maybe he could show you around. You know, since you aren’t seeing anyone.”

Robbie’s head snapped to the right so quickly that Tate was surprised he didn’t get a crick in his neck.

“I am positive he could find someone other than me to show him around,” Robbie said. “In fact, I’m thinking anyone other than me would fit the bill.”

“Really?” Shelly said. “But you’re so nice, and he’s—”

“Not,” Robbie ended for her.

Logan actually snorted as he laughed at Robbie’s reaction, and when Tate looked down at him and caught his eyes, he noticed they were slightly glazed as the birthday boy then switched gears, checked Tate out, and subjected him to an intense eye fuck.

Christ, he really wanted to get him back to their room—like, now.

“Aww, Robbie,” Logan said as he peered around Tate’s shoulder, the alcohol definitely making his words a little lazier than before. “You don’t have to sound so horrified by the prospect. Priest’s really a good guy.”

“Sure he is.”

“You do know I’m right here, don’t you?” Priest said from across the balcony.

Robbie gritted his teeth and aimed his eyes at the man sitting as casual as you please under the curious surveillance of, well, everyone.

“Yes, trust me,” Robbie said. “We all know you’re here. Your stony silence is louder than anyone else in the room. But don’t worry; I have absolutely no problem telling you what I think of you—trust me.”

Priest shrugged as though he wasn’t fazed in the slightest, and the action only seemed to infuriate Robbie even more. “No skin off my nose,” Priest said. “You’re not my type anyway.”

“Uhh, vice versa,” Robbie said, as he tipped his chin so high in the air that Tate thought he might get a nosebleed. “I don’t like assholes.”

“Really?” Priest said, and this time got to his feet. Tate’s eyes widened slightly as he looked over to see Cole and Rachel watching on with caution, and Shelly and Josh sitting wide-eyed at the show unfolding. And when Tate went to stand to intervene, Logan placed a gentle hand on his leg, stilling him as Priest said, “And here I’d heard the exact opposite about you.”

Robbie, oblivious now to anyone else, as far as Tate could tell, marched across the space and aimed his eyes up at Priest, who merely looked down, unperturbed by Robbie’s display.

“I hate you.”

Priest tossed the napkin in his hand down on his seat, and then he gave an insolent laugh. “Oh, I know, princess. I know.” He then stepped around Robbie and walked over to where Tate sat with Logan’s hand resting on his thigh, and said in a tone that was as polite as ever, “Thanks for inviting me tonight, Tate, Mitchell. I had fun.”

“Wait a sec…” Logan said as he sat up straight and swayed a little. “You’re not staying?”

“No. I have a good friend here in town, and I’m going to catch an Uber over there now.”

“Ahh… Okay,” Logan said, and held his hand out. “Was good of you to come up here with us.”

Priest shook Logan’s hand and then looked to Tate. “Good luck with him tonight.”

Tate laughed and shook Priest’s hand firmly. “Thanks. He can still walk, and he’s still awake, so he’s not that bad.”

Priest laughed then waved to everyone as he pulled out his cell phone and headed inside with it glued to his ear.

As silence descended on the balcony, Robbie seemed to realize he was still standing in the middle of everyone, and shook his head. “Have you ever met anyone so infuriating?”

“Yes,” Rachel said, and pointed to Cole. “He was totally infuriating.”

Robbie gave her a meek smile and headed over to the doors that led inside. “I’m going to go to bed. Suddenly I feel…nauseous. Happy birth— Thanks for inviting me. This place was awesome, and most of your friends are really cool.”

Tate nodded and Logan waved, and then Robbie disappeared inside, no doubt running away in case Shelly started in on him again or Priest decided he’d forgotten something.

When Logan yawned, Tate took his cue and got to his feet. There was no way he wanted Logan to fall asleep before he got back to the room, so he stood and held a hand out.

“Ready for bed, then?”

As Logan placed his hand in his, Tate tugged him to his feet and pulled him in to kiss him lightly.

“Mhmm,” Logan said against his lips, and Tate glanced over his shoulder and grinned at the four who remained on the balcony.

“That’s my cue, guys. Thanks for being here tonight. And even though Logan was a total pain for the first half of it—”

“Hey.”

“I think we can safely say he’s thoroughly enjoyed himself, the wine, and the port.”

Logan ran a palm down Tate’s chest. “Annd soon you.”

“Take him away, for God’s sake,” Cole said.

Tate wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Yep, going now. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you then.” Cole waved and Rachel blew them both a kiss. Then Shelly stood and gave them a hug each and wished them good night, and as Tate led Logan down the hall to their room, Logan leaned up and put his lips by Tate’s ear.

“God bless Shelly and her troublemaking ways.”

Tate chuckled and stopped by their door. “Yeah. It was rather entertaining.”

“Uh, that’s one way of putting it.”

Tate inserted the keycard in the lock and then kissed Logan on the mouth. “It is. But I don’t want to talk about anyone else other than us for the rest of the night, if that’s okay with you.”

Logan ran his hands down Tate’s chest to his waist and then nipped at his lip before nodding. “That’s more than okay with me.”

“In that case, then,” Tate said as he pushed down on the handle and opened the door. “After you.”