AND THERE IT is, Tate thought, as one of his curls fell forward and Logan automatically moved to brush it back from his forehead. For a man who claimed he wasn’t sweet and said the wrong things, Logan always managed to take the wind right out of Tate’s sails in moments like these. He wasn’t even sure Logan was aware of what he was doing. But the look of absolute devotion in his eyes as he fingered the strand of hair put into words everything he was unable to say out loud. And Tate loved that this was a side of Logan that was all his.
Logan drew up short as his eyes landed on the man waiting for him in his office. He was tall and lean, which was emphasized by the charcoal slim-cut trousers he was wearing and the lightweight black turtleneck. But what really caught Logan’s eyes were the black-and-blue crocodile monk-strap shoes that matched the messenger bag the man was holding. There was no way in hell he knew this guy, Logan thought, as he walked inside and shut the door. Because he’d never forget someone who wore shoes like—