IT WAS THE end of the week, and a beautiful Friday morning, as Tate floored his Mustang up I-90 and the two of them relaxed into the drive that would take them to their cabin for the weekend.

The sun was out, the sky was clear, and Logan couldn’t think of another place in the world he’d rather be than sitting beside Tate with his window rolled down and the Killers blasting from the stereo.

They’d stopped for a quick bite and coffee, but neither wanted to linger before hitting the road, both eager to get to their home away from the city.

Logan looked across to see Tate with one of his arms resting on the open window and the other hand casually holding the steering wheel. In his ripped jeans, he looked so cool and relaxed that Logan wanted to tell him to pull over so he could shove him in the back seat and unzip those jeans. As the thought entered his mind, Logan placed his hand on Tate’s thigh, and when he automatically put his over the top and shifted it up his leg to rest between his thighs, Logan thought, Fuck it.

He angled his body so he could lean over and kiss Tate’s cheek, and then he inhaled, and the scent of their shampoo and soap wafted around, making Logan want to nuzzle his nose behind Tate’s ear. “You smell fucking amazing.”

Tate added pressure to the top of Logan’s hand as he spread his legs a little wider. “Considering we showered together, I’d say I smell exactly the same as you.”

“Mhmm, I remember,” Logan said. “But you still smell amazing. I think it’s just you. Your skin. The way the soap reacts to it.”

“Maybe it’s pheromones. Maybe my body’s reacting to you being so close.”

“I’m not sure there is such a thing. But,” Logan said, and squeezed his hand around the cock he could feel swelling behind the denim, causing Tate to groan in the back of his throat, “your body is definitely reacting to me.”

“I think you need to go back to your side of the car,” Tate said, just as Logan nipped at his earlobe and tightened his grip. “Like…shit, Logan. Now.”

Logan chuckled but relented. If there was one thing he was overly cautious about when it came to Tate, it was driving. Ever since his accident, any time they were in a vehicle that was moving, Logan wanted all attention on the task at hand. Even if that does mean I’m now sitting here with a serious case of blue balls.

Deciding to distract himself, Logan reached for the volume and turned the music down. Talking was a good idea. If they talked, he wouldn’t just sit there and stare at Tate for the next forty or fifty minutes thinking of all the ways he was going to enjoy that strong body as soon as they reached their destination.

Tate must’ve been of the same mindset, because he glanced over for a second, blew out a sigh, and then pressed the heel of his hand against his obvious arousal. “So,” he said. “You never did tell me what happened yesterday with Priestley and the prosecutor.”

“And you want me to tell you now?”

Tate laughed at his put-out tone. “Don’t worry. The second we’re out of the car and inside the cabin, you can do whatever you want to me. But for now, this seems like a safe enough topic.”

Well, when he puts it like that… Logan rubbed a hand over his chin as he thought about yesterday. “They offered eleven months. They won’t budge off that, though.”

“Eleven months in jail?”

“Yeah. Since there’s no time served, it would be the full eleven months, too.”

Tate nodded. “Okay. And what did Robbie’s cousin— Sorry, I can’t think of her name.”

“Vanessa.”

“Right. What did Vanessa say to that?”

Logan shook his head, remembering Priestley’s frustration, not to mention his own. “She said the same thing she’s been saying from the get-go.”

“That she’s innocent?” Tate said.

“Yep.” Logan sighed and looked out the window. This case troubled him on all levels. There was the Robbie factor. The Nonna factor. And then Vanessa herself. She was a sweet kid. She didn’t deserve this. And the really shitty part of it all was both Logan and Priestley believed she was one hundred percent innocent. “I understand her position, believe me. And there’s no way I’m advocating she lie. But in this instance, telling the truth is going to ruin her life.”

When Tate’s hand found his leg, Logan turned to see him looking at him for several heartbeats, then he was back facing the road.

“You’re doing everything you can for her. Taking her case pro bono. You have Priestley, who you say is the best, first-chairing it. Logan, there’s nothing else you can do now other than counsel her. You’ve told her the options; now she has to make her own choice. That burden doesn’t fall on you.”

“It does if we lose. If she says no to this deal, which it looks like she will, then this immediately goes to trial. And with what the police have as evidence, it’d be a miracle if she walked out of there free.”

Tate ran a hand through his hair. “When will you know what she wants?”

“The deal’s off the table in forty-eight hours. That means Priest will know sometime tomorrow if he has to prepare for court on Monday.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Logan said. “You know, this is why I didn’t go into criminal law.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because of cases like this,” Logan said. “People think it’s hard to get up and defend someone who is without a doubt a deplorable human being. But you know what’s worse?” When Tate looked his way, Logan shrugged and said, “Defending the innocent.” He shook his head and then rested it back on the seat. “When you know someone is innocent deep inside your bones and she’s as young as Vanessa? Nothing puts more pressure, or is harder, on a lawyer than walking into that courtroom with the deck stacked against him, hoping that somehow he’s going to pull a wild card and come out the winner. That’s the worst position to be in, and if she comes back and tells Priest she doesn’t want to take that deal, then that’s what he’s going to be walking into.”

* * *

TATE WISHED THEY were already at the cabin as Logan’s words came to a close. He wanted to touch him in that moment, tell him it would all work out. But really, he didn’t know that. He hoped this Priest guy was as good as Logan said, but what if he wasn’t? What if Robbie’s cousin ended up going to jail for fifteen or more years? That was a heavy burden to carry. And he could understand exactly what Logan was saying. “How does Priestley feel about it?”

“I don’t know. The guy’s a vault,” Logan said, and then turned his head on the headrest and removed his sunglasses. “But if it was me up there on trial, I’d want him sitting first chair.”

Tate took in Logan’s serious expression and wanted to ease him if he could. So he gave him a crooked smile and said, “That’s good to know, considering how much trouble you like to get into.” Logan arched an eyebrow, and Tate reached over and ran a finger down the line of his jaw. “She’s lucky to have you two. But are you sure you should be here with me this weekend?”

Logan grabbed his hand and nodded. “Of course. This is Priest’s case now. Plus, there’s nowhere else I should ever be if you need time away with me. And that’s what you asked for this weekend.”

Sweet. It was something Logan claimed he wasn’t. But when he said things like that, there was no denying it. As Logan absently kissed the back of his hand, Tate smiled and said, “I can’t wait to get up there. The weather is meant to be perfect for the next three days.”

“I saw that this morning. High seventies, mid eighties. I’m loving this weather.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my tan,” Tate said, and a slow, sensual smile crossed Logan’s lips.

“You should definitely work on it. And be sure to do so in a way that won’t leave any lines on this gorgeous skin of yours.”

Tate scoffed. “In other words, stay naked all weekend?”

“I’m not seeing a problem with that.”

Neither am I, Tate thought, as Logan’s eyes traveled a fiery path down his t-shirt and blue jeans.

“In fact, I think you should start as soon as we arrive,” Logan said. “You won’t want to miss an opportunity in case the clouds roll in.”

Tate looked out the windshield at the cloudless sky, then back to the man sitting across from him. “Yeah, I can see that’ll be a real worry.”

Logan shrugged and said, “You never know.”

Tate laughed and relaxed back into his seat as he pushed his foot a little harder on the gas, suddenly wanting to get to the cabin as soon as possible.

AS TATE TOOK the turn onto their street, lush greenery flanked either side of them as he slowed the Mustang to a crawl and they wove their way through the quiet neighborhood.

What he loved most about coming up there was the feeling of solitude it afforded the both of them. It’d been years since Logan had first brought him there after he’d asked for some “space,” and in all that time Tate had never been so aware of how much he must’ve hurt Logan that day. Never had he looked back at it after they’d worked things out and he’d apologized. Until today, Tate thought.

It seemed as though memories from when they’d first gotten together were flooding back into their lives from all sides lately. But that was to be expected, he supposed, after meeting up with Jill and seeing Robbie again for the first time in years.

When he turned the car onto the narrow dirt drive, it took them into the dense foliage of the property, and Tate took the small fork in the road that led them around the first and largest pond, to where the barn stood. He pulled the car to a stop and Logan got out to open the wide double doors, and as Tate pulled the car in and parked it beside Logan’s truck, he finally let out a sigh.

Now I can relax, he thought, as he shoved open the car door and climbed out to see Logan at the trunk getting out their bags. Once the car doors were locked, he came around the end to grab his black duffel, and kissed Logan hard and long until he groaned, then Tate pulled away.

“What was that for?” Logan said.

Tate slung the bag over his shoulder and took Logan’s hand. “You were there and I wanted to.”

As the two of them strolled outside, Logan licked his lips and said, “I’m still here if you want to again.”

Tate chuckled and kept walking along the path that wound around the man-made pond that sat directly behind the cabin. It was beautiful with the way the sun was reflecting off the water, and before they headed inside, he wanted to go down and enjoy it for a minute.

Dropping his bag on the grassy bank, he tugged on Logan’s hand, heading for the small pier that jutted out to the middle of the water. As they strolled out to the spot where they’d spent many afternoons eating lunch and enjoying the surrounding view, Tate smiled to himself.

Yes, this is exactly what I need this weekend. Logan, peace, and quiet.

When they got to the end of the wooden planks, Logan stepped in behind him to wrap his arms around his waist, and Tate closed his eyes as warm lips found his neck.

“I don’t see you losing your clothes, Mr. Morrison.”

Tate sighed as he leaned back into Logan’s hold. “Well, it’s hard to strip when you’re all over me.”

“Complaining?” Logan asked by his ear, as he slipped his fingers under the hem of Tate’s t-shirt.

“Not ever.”

“Hmm, good. I’d be real disappointed if you were.”

Tate turned his head, found Logan’s eyes, and said, “Then you’ll never be disappointed.”

Logan’s lips met his then for a kiss that straddled the line of being a sweet tease and a turbulent taking. Logan’s tongue went from gently tracing Tate’s lower lip to sinking inside his mouth for a thorough taste. And as Logan sucked on his tongue, he stepped around in front of Tate so he could slide a hand into the back of his hair.

Tate let out a throaty groan as their lower bodies met, and when Logan smoothed a hand around his waist and down to his ass to pull him closer, he took hold of Logan’s cheeks and savored the intoxicating taste of him.

Logan grunted, and Tate pulled back enough that he could bite down on his lower lip, causing him to curse.

“God,” Logan said, his eyes blazing as he ran them all over his face. “I can’t wait to get my hands and mouth all over you.”

Tate wanted that exact same thing, but before that, he wanted to tease the man currently kneading his ass. Have a little fun with him. After all, that was why they were up there. To relax, zone out, and enjoy one another. “Oh yeah?”

“Count on it. I plan to be in every part of you in the next hour—”

“That’s mighty presumptuous.”

“Damn right it is,” Logan said, and kissed his jaw. “My tongue,” he said, and scraped his teeth over the stubble of Tate’s cheek. “My fingers,” he said, as he thrust his erection against him. Then Logan brushed his lips over Tate’s ear and whispered, “And then my cock. All inside that tight little hole of yours in the next sixty minutes. Time it, Tate. It’s going to happen.”

He put his palms on the white t-shirt covering Logan’s chest and dug his fingers into the firm pecs below. It was a deep V-neck that went with Logan’s black jeans in a way that made him look like he should be on a magazine cover, not standing on a pier delivering promises hot enough to make Tate want to melt at his feet.

But that was where they were, and Tate shoved him back a little way, smirked at the cocksure man staring at him, and said, “I don’t know about that. You seem a little hot and bothered. Maybe you need to cool down before I take my clothes off. I’d hate you to lose it before you got your tongue, fingers, and cock inside of me.”

“Tate…” Logan said, looking over his own shoulder, clueing in to what Tate was up to. “Don’t you dare.”

But Tate winked at him and gave a nice, hard shove, laughing his ass off as Logan fell off the pier into the cool, clear water under the warmth of the late summer sun.