AHH, WHAT A difference a day can make, Logan thought, as he cast a surreptitious glance in Tate’s direction the following evening from where he sat in his car in Will Morrison’s driveway. He’d just pulled up and parked behind an enormous Dodge pickup truck, and while they both knew they had to get out and head inside, Logan wasn’t at all surprised that the two of them were…lingering. “Well, this feels familiar.”

Logan tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he peered out the windshield and up to the wraparound porch of Will’s house.

“Yeah,” Tate said with a grimace—no further explanation needed. They were both more than aware that for the first time since they’d made the trek to meet Tate’s family, they were back to sitting in a car outside of Tate’s childhood home with a sense of unease in the air.

But that was the past. That was a long time ago. Since then they’d been back here to the scene of that horrible nightmare and been invited inside by the man who owned the place and welcomed into his life. And today, Logan had to believe, would be different than the first.

He sat back in his seat and reached across the car to run his fingers over Tate’s forehead. “Stop scowling. We’re not on trial. We’re going to dinner.”

“Ugh, I know.” When Logan went to remove his arm, Tate took hold of his hand and entwined their fingers. “I just hate the thought of rehashing all this past shit. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen tonight.”

Logan studied the worry lines etched around Tate’s lips. “Well, yeah. That’s what this is about. Clearing the air, right? It’s what you want. But…you don’t have to do it right now if you aren’t ready. I can turn the car around and we can reschedule for some other time.”

Tate sighed and let out a shaky breath, and Logan gave him a moment.

When Tate had first asked him about tonight, he’d done so only days after his initial sit-down with Jill, and Logan had sensed that his initial agreement to it all was something Tate hadn’t overly thought about until after saying yes. Because instead of scheduling the dinner within the following week, as Logan would’ve assumed, Tate had been dragging his feet on it.

He’d let weeks pass until a month was gone and he had several messages on his phone from his sister wondering if he’d changed his mind. But he hadn’t. That wasn’t Tate’s way. He’d been deliberating over it. Weighing all the pros and cons while trying to work out how everything would eventually play out. And Logan wasn’t about to rush him.

Knowing Tate, he had more than likely been trying to wrap his head around what tonight would mean to the both of them, and Logan had been more than willing to let him take his time and do it when he was ready. In fact, he’d been grateful for the opportunity to analyze his own feelings about the matter. And he had many when it came to the reappearance of Jill.

Feelings. Questions. Suspicions. First and foremost, why hadn’t she reached out before now? She claimed she had a tense relationship with her father, but come on. If you wanted to see someone, you made a fucking effort, right?

“Okay. Let’s get this over with,” Tate said, the sound of his seatbelt unbuckling pulling Logan from his thoughts.

“Okay. Let’s.”

They got out of the car and met up in front of it, where Logan took Tate’s hand in his and brought him in close. “Hang on a minute. Let’s see if I can think of a good excuse to get you out of there if you want to leave.”

When Tate merely eyed him, his grim expression not changing, Logan became more determined than ever to pull a smile from him.

“How about you say: Logan, I’m a little stiff from all this recent packing with you. I think it’s time we headed home.”

Tate’s lips twitched. “I’m just supposed to work that into a conversation?”

“Hey, if you can’t work the word stiff into a conversation with me, we have bigger issues to deal with than dinner with your sister.”

And just like that, Tate’s gorgeous smile lit his entire face. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Maybe,” Logan said, and then leaned in to kiss Tate’s mouth. “But you’re smiling, and that’s exactly what I wanted.”

“And you always get what you want.”

“Well, yes. This you already know.” In a final show of support, Logan brought their hands up to kiss Tate’s knuckles, and then, without another word, the two of them headed for the house.

* * *

TATE DIDN’T BOTHER knocking, since he knew his father would’ve left the door unlocked for them, and as they walked inside, he told himself for the hundredth time that everything was going to be okay. Yeah, now if I could just believe it.

Logan’s hand around his was a comfort, though, as was the warmth of him as he stuck close behind Tate while they made their way down the narrow hall. He could hear the sound of voices as they neared the entryway to the kitchen, and just before he stepped through, he glanced over his shoulder one last time to Logan, who nodded and gave him a gentle shove.

Right, it’s go time.

Tate squared his shoulders and, without another second of hesitation, walked out into the open space. His father was standing on one side of the kitchen island, facing the other two occupants of the room, who had their backs to him and Logan. They hadn’t yet noticed their arrival, but when Logan sidled up beside him, Tate’s father’s eyes finally rose and came to a halt on them.

Jesus, why am I so damn nervous? It wasn’t like his father was going to cause a commotion over them. But that didn’t mean the other two in the room would be as—

“Tate, Logan,” his dad said, a broad grin lighting his face. “You’re here.”

He came around the island and headed over toward them, but Tate was too focused on the other two in the room, who’d now turned to face them.

Jill had opted for casual today, in jeans and a crimson lightweight knit top. Her hair, the same color as his own, fell in soft waves over her shoulders, and she had a half-smile on her face, as though she wasn’t quite sure what kind of reception she’d get from them. Sam, her husband, hadn’t changed a bit. Sporting his usual faded jeans, flannel over a tee, and work boots scuffed around the edges, he looked exactly how Tate remembered him. A real man’s man. And when he reached for Jill’s hand in a sign of support, much as Logan had Tate’s outside, Tate couldn’t help but wonder for the umpteenth time just how this was going to go down.

When his father stopped in front of them, Tate finally tore his attention away from the silent onlookers and focused on the warm greeting he was getting instead.

What did he say again? Oh, right, just that we’re finally here. Get with the program, Morrison. “Yeah,” Tate said, kicking his ass in gear. “And we’re not even late.”

His father gave a chuckle, his eyes going to Logan. “I bet that had more to do with you than him, am I right?”

“You might be,” Logan said as he released Tate’s hand and reached out to shake his father’s. “How you doing tonight, Will?”

“Good. Good,” Will said, but then his lips pulled tight and he kind of…winced.

Great, Tate thought. So things are already awkward. That’s just great. Lowering his voice, he asked, “Did they say something to you, Dad?”

“What? No. No. Nothing like that. It’s just a little tense. But we knew it would be, right?”

“I guess.”

“It’s going to be fine,” his dad said, and then turned back to Logan. “Why don’t you come on over, son, so Tate can finally introduce you the way he should’ve been able to that first time around.”

At his father’s words, Tate looked to Logan, and was jarred out of his thoughts in an instant. He’d been so wrapped up in his own head that he hadn’t really thought about how this would be affecting the man beside him. But when he stared into Logan’s eyes, he was stunned to find them glistening. Tate wasn’t even sure that Logan was aware of it himself, but what his father had just said had clearly rocked Logan to his core.

Logan visibly swallowed. “I’d like that.”

Will clapped Logan’s shoulder and then nodded. “Good,” he said before turning on his heel. “Come on, then, Tate. Let’s get the hard part out of the way.”

Tate studied Logan for a second without a word, and then Logan blinked, and that vulnerability that had snuck through to the surface vanished behind the usual confidence that lit those eyes.

What is going through his head? Tate really wanted to ask him, but now wasn’t the time. So he filed it away and vowed to come back to that as they headed across the tile to where Jill and Sam stood waiting for them.

It was time for show and tell.

* * *

EARLIER, WHEN THEY’D been driving over in the car, several thoughts had been floating around Logan’s head in regard to how tonight would go. But never had he expected Will Morrison to stun him with a shock straight to the heart.

Shit. He’d been poised to be the quiet onlooker in the background tonight. The one not to let his emotions get to him as they went through the motions of dealing with whatever Jill did or didn’t do. He’d wanted to be that pillar of strength for Tate. That rock, should he need him. But one sentence from Tate’s father and suddenly Logan’s legs felt as though they’d been kicked out from under him.

Never in a million years would he have suspected that Will Morrison would be the first man to ever say something remotely fatherly to him and actually mean it. But there it was. Just out there, like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to have said. And for someone whose own father had never bothered to acknowledge him, let alone introduce him to anyone, including his own brother, those simple words had meant everything to Logan.

“Jill, Sam. I believe there’s someone you have yet to meet,” Will said as he moved up to stand beside his daughter.

It was interesting, but not all that surprising, that after everything that had happened between the Morrisons, it was Tate who Will had reconnected with. The two of them were practically cut from the same mold. Tate not only resembled his father, but over the years Logan had also come to realize he possessed the man’s capacity for acceptance, directness, and love.

The man standing on the other side of Jill, her husband, Sam, looked much the same as he had the one and only time Logan had ever seen him. Rugged was the word that came to mind. He was a big guy, easily six two or three, and broad-shouldered. The exact opposite to himself, Logan thought, and wondered what Sam made of him standing there in his designer jeans, light pink button-up shirt, and speckled grey and white cardigan.

Tate cleared his throat, and if Logan hadn’t been so preoccupied, he might’ve realized how uncomfortable everyone appeared as they faced off with one another.

“Jill, Sam,” Tate said, much as his father had, and then he turned toward Logan, and the serious expression on his face morphed into one full of pride. “This is Logan. My boyfriend.”

And yep, thank God he’s holding my hand, because the legs are threatening again.

When Tate rounded back to the other couple, it was with his head held high and a confidence that had once not been there. And the power of those words right then were so overwhelming in their enormity that time seemed to pause to applaud them.

Jill was the first to step forward and hold her hand out to Logan, and he had to admire the bold way she locked gazes with him. “It’s so nice to finally meet you, Logan.”

Logan reached for her small palm, and as his engulfed it, he inclined his head ever so slightly. “Likewise.”

As they parted ways, Sam ambled forward and thrust his hand out. “Hey there. I’m Sam,” he said in a gruff tone that matched his appearance.

Logan gave his hand a robust shake. “Logan. Nice to meet you,” was all he managed, but luckily for him, Sam then turned his attention to Tate and held his arms out wide.

“And it’s hella good to see you again, man.” As Sam moved to take hold of Tate’s outstretched hand, Tate was tugged in to a hug and a thump on the back, shocking the shit out of Logan, and apparently Tate, who took a second to loosen up and return the gesture.

When he was released, Sam shoved his hands into his pockets and said, “I don’t know about all you, but I sure as shit could do with a beer.”

Logan was positive he must’ve looked like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, because out of all the things he’d expected upon walking into this house today, it wasn’t that the flannel-wearing, truck-driving Sam would be the one to break the ice in the room.

Well, that’ll teach me to stereotype.

Will slapped his palm on the kitchen island. “Agreed. Okay. Why don’t you all head out to the back patio, and Tate? Start up the fire pit, would you?”

“Sure thing, Dad.”

Logan looked at Will. “You need any help?”

He wasn’t sure if he was asking to be helpful or merely to give himself some time to process everything that had just happened. But Logan had a feeling Will was onto him, because he shook his head.

“Nope. I’m just fine, son. You four head out and I’ll be along in a minute.”

Yeah…he’s totally onto me.

Jill continued to watch Tate carefully as though she thought he might vanish as she moved into her husband’s side and let him lead her toward the back door. Then Tate took Logan’s hand and gave him a look that said, You ready? And all Logan could think was, How did the tables turn to where I’m now the one trying to think of an excuse to make a run for it?

* * *

WITH HIS FINGERS wrapped around Logan’s, Tate directed the two of them out to the covered patio, and then he let Logan go so he could take up a seat on one of the outdoor settees while Tate got the fire started.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that Jill had taken a seat beside Sam, so close that she was practically glued to his side. And Tate knew if he was anxious, then she had to be feeling the nerves tenfold.

Not only was she coming face to face with him, but she was also dealing with Logan and their father. That was a hell of a lot of testosterone in one room. Then add in the strained relationships with all three, and shit, Tate figured she won when it came to who was the most on edge.

Once Tate had the fire going and went to take a seat, he caught Jill watching him with a longing look in her eyes, but she quickly turned away before he could offer up any kind of acknowledgment. So, without a word, he walked back to where Logan waited for him.

When he got to the chair, Tate noticed the way his lawyer had planted his ass in the farthest corner of the seat, as though he maybe thought Tate would sit at the other end. But there was no way that was about to happen tonight.

Not here. Not now. Not fucking ever.

Tate took a spot, much like his sister, so he was plastered to Logan’s side, and then he rested his palm on his thigh and planted one of his ankles on his knees and settled in.

It was time to get fucking real. But…where to start?

“So, uhh, were you guys here long before us?” Tate asked, and then wanted to roll his eyes at himself. Shit, I sound lame.

“Nah,” Sam said, looking between the two of them. “Got here about ten minutes before you guys showed up.”

Right. Okay, then. Next, anyone?

Tate glanced at Logan, who was usually the one he counted on to talk them out of any situation. But for once in his life, Logan looked completely and totally out of his depth. He was staring across the room at the two strangers opposite him and had one arm on the side of the chair. Tate noticed his fingers were gripping it in a way that could either mean he was trying to convince himself to stay, or he was thinking about using that hand to propel himself up so he could hightail it out of there, and hell, Tate sure as shit could relate to that feeling.

He smoothed his palm a little up Logan’s leg, and when that finally got his attention, Tate offered a smile he hoped was more reassuring than it felt. Then he leaned over and lowered his voice to say the one thing he hoped would break through and relax Logan. “You okay? Or is your back a little stiff from all the packing we’ve been doing lately?”

The minute his words registered, Logan’s eyes lit up with the spark Tate had wanted to see, and he knew that whatever followed tonight, as long as Logan was beside him, the two of them would get through it.