LOGAN STOOD IN front of the large windows of the master bedroom and stared out at the snow-covered property and pond ahead.

The night was perfect. It was peaceful. Calm. And as the flurries fell a little harder and caught in the floodlights around their place, Logan thought…enchanting.

All through his shower, he had been trying to get his heart to stop racing, but every time he thought about Tate being somewhere in this house waiting for him to come and claim him, it started to thump all over again.

This is really happening, Logan thought, as he shut his eyes and told himself to breathe. With his tuxedo on, and his hair in place, he opened his eyes and looked at the piece of paper in his hand. It was the note that had been left on the bedside table, and he ran his thumb over the words there. The ones he must’ve read a hundred times over already: Marry me tonight. I dare you.

Logan smiled as he folded it over and slipped it in his pocket. Then he walked to the door with one thought in his mind: Try and stop me. He knocked on the door twice, and when it was pushed open to reveal Rachel, Logan’s breath caught.

She looked beautiful. In an ice-blue dress that molded to every curve of her body, she had finished the ensemble with a white faux-fur wrap around her shoulders. Her hair was pinned half up, half down and was swept over one of her shoulders in cascades of curls. She looked like a raven-haired version of her daughter’s favorite ice princess.

“Oh, Logan,” she said as she brought a hand to her chest, her eyes roving all over him, and when they finally climbed back up to meet his, they were shiny as she blinked. “I can’t believe this is happening. You’re really getting married.”

“So I’m told,” Logan said, as he reached for one of her hands. “By the way, you little schemer. I know you helped Tate do whatever is about to happen here. Don’t think I’ll forget that.” Rachel grinned like a loon as Logan leaned down to kiss her temple and say, “Or thank you, every single time I see you.”

She laughed as he straightened, and when she ran a hand down his lapel, she said, “You look… Logan, you look devastatingly handsome tonight.”

“You think?” he asked, looking down at himself.

“Yes. Tate’s going to have a difficult time remembering how to make his legs work when he sees you.”

Logan felt his cheeks heat, and Rachel grinned.

“Well, that’s something I’ve never seen you do.” When Logan frowned, Rachel chuckled and brushed a finger down his cheek. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” Logan said, and pulled his head away.

“Yes, you are. And it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Rachel stepped aside, and as Logan went to walk by, she said in a sugary voice, “He makes you a little bit stupid, Logan Mitchell. And that makes me ridiculously happy.”

That made Logan’s cheeks impossibly warmer, and had Rachel grinning even more as she slipped her arm through his and said, “If you’re ready, I need you to come with me, please.”

Logan nodded and took in a deep breath. “Lead the way, Mrs. Madison.”

As she walked him down the main hallway, the soft glow of lights became visible as they passed by the shut door of the guest room, and when they stepped into the cabin’s living room, Logan’s feet came to an abrupt stop.

The sight that greeted him just about took what little breath he had left in him. The room had been completely reimagined, and in place of the dining table and Italian leather furniture that usually filled the space was an aisle of white linen and rose petals, flanked by candelabra and white roses. There were three on either side, and the candles at the top of each flickered and cast an intimate glow, lighting the way to the open balcony doors—and standing out there, under the awning with twinkling lights and more candelabra, was Cole.

Now dressed in a sharp black suit, Logan’s brother waited patiently while Logan and Rachel walked out to him. Cole kissed his wife’s cheek and said, “I’ll take it from here if you want to go and stand with Jackie and the kids over there.”

Rachel turned to look up at Logan. “Relish this moment. You have fought hard for it, and deserve every second of it.”

As she left him standing there, Logan didn’t even turn to see where she was going. He was too busy looking at Cole and the elegance of everything surrounding them.

“This place looks…”

“Incredible?”

“Yes,” Logan whispered, feeling as though that was how he should talk when faced with something so breathtaking.

“Tate thought of it all. He wanted tonight to be something you would always remember. And now,” Cole said with a warm smile as he looked over Logan’s shoulder, taking it all in, “I need you to come and stand beside me so we can begin.”

* * *

RACHEL HAD KNOCKED on the guest door a couple of minutes ago to let them know Logan was in place, and as Tate stood in the hallway now with his father, he shut his eyes and counted back from ten waiting…waiting…and there it was.

The Kyte version of was the perfect song for them tonight. It was the song that had once been a lifeline between Tate and the man now waiting for him—and once again it would lead him back to Logan. To the very place he was supposed to be.

As the music filled the living room and swept through him, Tate looked to his father for support, and when Will crooked his elbow out, Tate slipped his arm through. Never had he been more grateful to have his father in his life.

Tate nodded, no more words needing to be exchanged, and then the two of them walked out from the hallway and into the living room.

When they came to a stop at the beginning of the aisle, Tate’s hand tightened around his father’s arm as he finally got his first look at Logan since that morning—and what he saw just about took his breath away.

Logan stood on the balcony amongst all of the candles and lights with snow falling behind him, and dressed as he was in his immaculate tuxedo with his black hair and stubble all perfectly styled, he looked magnificent. Like a prince, Tate thought. Rachel had been right. This was like some kind of fairytale.

“You okay?” Will whispered in his ear, but Tate couldn’t tear his eyes off the intense blue ones now locked on his. “Okay, then let’s get you to your guy.”

Tate wasn’t about to argue with that, and as the tune Logan had once hummed to him night after night followed him down the aisle, he realized that wasn’t the first time Logan had shocked his heart back to life.

No, he’d done it once before, the day he’d walked into Tate’s life.

Tate walked with his father down the short aisle to where Logan stood, and when he got there, he finally noticed Rachel and the kids standing off to one side with Jackie.

Will came to a stop, and Tate was glad for his lead, because he wasn’t sure he would’ve been able to follow proper etiquette right then. Luckily for him, others were there to offer guidance, because all he could see was Logan.

“Who gives this man away tonight?” Cole asked.

Tate wasn’t paying attention. His eyes were fixed on Logan’s, and the electricity crackling between them was palpable. Logan’s eyes were smoldering as they roved over Tate, taking in every single thing he could now that they were standing so close. His cheeks were flushed and he looked as though he were fighting back the urge to reach out and touch Tate. The intensity of his emotions were rolling off Logan in waves, and it made Tate’s body hum with awareness.

“I do. William Morrison.” Will looked to Logan, but he was still zeroed in on Tate. “Take care of my boy, Logan.”

As if his name finally registered with him, Logan blinked those blue eyes of his, severing their connection, and he finally looked to Will and nodded before he said, “You know I will.”

* * *

LOGAN WAS FINDING it difficult to do anything other than stare at Tate, and had been ever since the music had started up and Tate and his father had stepped out into view.

Tate was dressed in a classic tuxedo, much like Logan, and his broad shoulders filled the jacket out beautifully. And his curls…sweet Lord, those curls looked so soft that Logan wanted to get closer to Tate just so he could run his hands through them.

The hauntingly beautiful melody that Tate had walked down the aisle to had Logan’s heart just about stopping as he remembered sitting by Tate’s hospital bed, willing him to open his eyes, and now here Tate was—more alive than ever before, looking at Logan as though he could give him the world. And he damn well planned to try.

Cole said something, but Logan didn’t hear what it was. He was so intent on Tate that he was barely aware anyone else was on that balcony with them. It wasn’t until Will said his name that Logan blinked and registered that he was being spoken to.

Logan repeated Will’s question over in his mind and then nodded before saying, “You know I will.”

Will released Tate’s arm and moved aside, and Logan stepped forward to take his place. As he turned so he was facing Cole, his arm brushed up against Tate’s and their fingers grazed one another. Logan closed his eyes from the sheer pleasure that tiny touch brought him, and he heard Tate’s breath catch.

Logan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and when he noticed Tate’s eyes were closed as if he were just as affected by finally being beside one another, Logan took his hand, entwined their fingers, and said by his ear, “I accept your dare, Mr. Morrison. It’s time. Let’s get married.”