“Quite a storm we had last night,” Tucker said to break the awkward little silence that
had fallen between them. “I wasn’t sure my Jeep would make it here this morning.” He turned to
smile at Logan politely and his face froze. Logan was gazing at him like a predatory cat—like
Tucker was a juicy meal and he hadn’t eaten in a month. He felt his cock twitch in his pants, and
he glanced quickly away.
It had been almost six long years since they had been together in the same room alone
like this, and Logan still made him as nervous as a teenage girl on her first date. His cock was
suddenly so hard he felt like it might rip right through his pants, and he was glad for his long
overcoat that helped hide it. What the fuck was wrong with Tucker thinking about how good-
looking Logan was or what color his damn eyes were, for Christ’s sake? He had to get a grip on
He took the chair across from Logan, sternly telling himself to cool it. He sank too far
down into its luxurious depths almost at once. He pulled out and perched on the edge of the
chair, glancing over at Logan irritably, as if he were somehow the cause. Logan gazed back at
him serenely, though the fact that his gaze was roaming up and down Tucker’s body hadn’t been
lost on Tucker at all. As a matter of fact, it was making him almost unbearably hot.
Sweating a little, he thought about taking off the coat now that he was sitting down. He
shrugged out of it, glancing over at Logan. “Warm in here. Mind if I take this off?”
“No, not at all. I want you to be comfortable.”
Tucker glanced at him sharply to see if he was teasing him. The words were perfectly
proper, but Logan had always had a knack for keeping him off-balance. He pulled out the essays
from his briefcase and then dug for his pen. Damn it, he felt like he was coming off as an idiot
here, awkward and inexperienced, when he wanted to be smooth and professional—typical when
he was around Logan, just like in the old days. He felt himself blushing hotly as he realized he
couldn’t find his pen.
“Do you, uh…I don’t suppose you have a pen I could use?”
Logan didn’t comment, but he did quirk up one imperious eyebrow and then nodded.
Logan rose with a languid grace and rummaged through a piece of furniture by the bed before
coming up with a pen.
Tucker’s complexion had always been the white, milk-fed kind that showed his every
strong emotion clearly by staining his cheeks bright pink, and he felt like they must be blazing
now. Once, long ago, Logan had told him it was an endearing trait. Trying to pretend he hadn’t
been checking out Logan’s rather spectacular ass in his well-fitting jeans as he bent over the
drawer, Tucker quickly returned his gaze to the notebook in his hand, glancing up when Logan
stood over him.
“Thanks,” Tucker said tersely, taking the pen and numbering each paper. “I didn’t get a
chance to do this before I arrived. I think that numbering them would be the easiest way, don’t
you? That way you won’t be swayed by names or anything. Not that you would be…I mean, I’m
sure you don’t know any of our kids. And even if you did, I didn’t mean to imply…that is, I’m
sure you wouldn’t…” Tucker knew he was babbling but couldn’t seem to stop. Finally, he thrust
the small stack of essays out toward Logan, who was staring calmly back at him.
“Do I make you nervous, Aubrey?” he asked softly.
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