I nod into Logan as he pulls back, his gaze lingering on my face, assessing, while heat floods up my neck and into my cheeks. I hate being the center of attention.
I feel the weight of his concern, the quiet steadiness in it, and I let him go reluctantly before he steps back and sits down, guiding me into the seat beside him.
“Are you okay?” His voice is soft but insistent, his eyes searching mine. “Did Johnathon—”
I shake my head quickly. “I’m fine. Really.”
The waitress returns, carrying coffee, and I can tell from the way she freezes and opens and closes her mouth that she didn’t expect the men before her. Chace smiles easily, Logan stares, and Sam glances down at his phone casually, after his cursing towards Trey, thoroughly unruffled.
“Can we have some coffees, please?” Trey calls, his arm still draped around Mac on his lap. “And for my wife, too.” He motions to me, while still having a petite blonde on his lap.
The waitress’s eyes widen again, and I can feel my cheeks heating. Sitting next to Logan, and Sam, my head lighting up like a lantern.
Logan chuckles behind me, slipping his arm around my shoulders and pressing a quick kiss to my cheek. If I wasn’t sitting already, I would have probably fallen down then and there.
“Oi, fucker. Keep your fucking lips off my wife.” Trey calls out.
Logan flips him the finger without looking.
“Baby, you cool with me slipping Mac the tongue? I gotta put that twat in his place.”
“Try it Baker, and I will bite the damn thing off.” Mac growls, before fighting off a sniffle.
“Jesus Christ,” Chace says, leaning back in his chair with a grin. “I turn up with them this morning, coming out of their suite, and now this? People are going to think we share everything.” I laugh, lifting my freshly refilled coffee. “I bet you—”
Logan’s hand slaps over my mouth before I can finish my sentence. Sam freezes, coffee halfway to his lips. Chace throws his head back, howling with laughter. I look left, blinking up at Logan, letting the moment stretch.
“Do not…finish…whatever it was you were about to say, sweetheart.”
I barely have time to blink before Trey’s knees appear at my right side, his fingers prying Logan’s hand from my mouth. A dirty grin tugs at his lips.
“Baby,” he murmurs, voice low and amused, “if you say anything with the words ‘I bet’ in front of us…that comes with a challenge. A challenge thathasto be honored. So whatever words were about to come out of those pretty lips, Logan just stopped them from becoming a possible reality.”
My mouth drops open. “What!”
“You were about to say something dirty, weren’t you?” His grin widens as he leans closer, the heat in his gaze pressing against my skin. My face probably matches my hair right now.
“I…”
“You’re welcome,” Logan breathes in my ear, smirking like he’s done the world’s greatest favor.
I take a big sip of my coffee, burning the roof of my mouth, but relishing the sting.
Trey shakes his head, flicking my nose playfully, before tugging me up from my seat and kissing me breathless.
“I think we should do something tonight to commemorate the band being back together,” Mac says, a clear note of mischief in her tone.
“What do you have in mind, Angel?” Logan asks.
“Well, for one thing—we’re in Vegas. But I would like to keep Trey out of the casinos for the time being. At least until he proves he can be… sensible.”
“Well, that’s never going to fucking happen,” Sam mutters.
I glance at him with wide eyes, and he immediately flinches, mouthing an apology.
“Eggy-top, she’s fine with the odd swear. I think I’ve even got her cussing a few times—she’s no wilting daisy,” Trey says with a quiet chuckle. “Macaroni-mascarpone, what do you have in mind, then?”
Mac rolls her eyes. “I think I want to put on some dancing shoes. Tonight.”
