“Is it about Elijah and Logan?” McKenna asked, always in reporter mode. “And the new arrangement?”
“Yes.” She waved a hand, pushed her empty glass to the edge of the table, hoping the waiter would see it as the white flag she meant it to be. “But that’s all I’m gonna say.”
“What—”
“Please,” Sam pleaded, meeting each of their probing stares. “I promise it’s not bad, but I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”
“You know you can tell us anything, right?” Mercedes noted, leaning in. “We don’t judge.”
Sam smiled softly. “I do know that. And I will tell you. Once I’m allowed to.”
“Allowed?” Sierra snorted, her eyes twinkling. “Since when does Samantha McCoy let anyone tell her she’s not allowed to do something?”
Sam relaxed a little. “Trust me, this iswayharder for me than you think.”
That was enough to settle her friends, and they spent the rest of lunch dancing around the subject but never overstepping. And yes, she was proud of herself for not blurting it out because, boy, this was harder than she’d thought.
***
“I told you, Luke, I’m sticking closeto the house this weekend,” Logan informed his brother during his drive home from work on Friday evening.
It was his third attempt at politely declining his brother’s invitation to join him and a few of the husbands at Devotion. Although he understood the appeal of the fetish club his brother owned, Logan saw no reason to go unless Sam was with him, and he’d told Luke as much.
“Just you and Eli?”
“Yes,” he said, ensuring his brother heard his frustration.
“Things cool with the two of you?”
“Of course.” He wanted to know why Luke would ask something like that, but he refrained from questioning him. The last thing Logan wanted was to get into a conversation with Luke, especially one that involved the topic of his newfound interest in Elijah. His brother was adept at dragging the truth out the same way a dentist extracted teeth—with precision and determination—and he damn sure didn’t want to go into the details. Not now. Maybe not ever.
“Fine. I hope your old ass goes to bed early,” Luke grumbled good-naturedly.
“I’m sure I will,” he lied, ending the call with a promise to catch up the following weekend when the women were back from their trip.
Logan pulled into the driveway, looking forward to some downtime for the next two days. He was also looking forward to spending some time with Elijah. They rarely had a chance to catch up, just the two of them. He happened to find Elijah’s job fascinating, and he wouldn’t mind hearing how things were going.
Even as he thought about the safe subject of work, Logan could practically hear Elijah’s request to analyze what had happened in the cabin.
He sighed.
Perhaps he should use their alone time to discuss what had happened, hash it out once and for all, and figure out what that meant for them and their future. God knows it weighed heavily on all of them, and Logan would accept that he was the reason they’d stalled out. And he would gladly take the blame. While he was usually the one who wanted to talk, to get Sam’s take on the sexual aspects of their relationship, this wasn’t something he cared to delve into. As far as he was concerned, talking was overrated when it came to things you had no control over, but maybe it would help.
Or he could simply pursue the man and see what transpired. Seriously, what was there to talk about? They’d both copped to enjoying the encounter, so dissecting it to pieces seemed like a complete waste of time. Logan had been serious when he told Elijah he didn’t want to follow a convoluted script based on too much talking and planning. He had enough of that at work, and his biggest pet peeve was meetings to prep for more meetings.
“Let it be. If it plays out, it plays out,” he muttered as he pulled into the garage and turned off the engine. That would be his motto for the weekend, he decided as he climbed out of the car.
He opened the back door, walked into the house, and solidified that action plan in his mind. He vowed not to think too long or too hard on anything that pertained to Elijah and the strange—albeit ridiculously appealing—things that had happened between them that night in Colorado.
As he neared the kitchen, he was greeted by a sweet yet spicy aroma, his stomach rumbling in response. He set his laptop bag on the washing machine as he passed through the laundry room, then followed the delicious scent, wondering what Elijah was preparing tonight. It was rare for him to cook, considering he spent so much time at work—a good majority of it traveling—so Logan was looking forward to whatever was on the menu.
Logan stopped in the kitchen, his gaze settling on the man standing at the stove. He couldn’t see what he was preparing, but it didn’t matter when his gaze snagged on the rigid muscles that cut a path down the man’s bare back, accentuating his broad shoulders and trim waist. Wearing only a pair of shorts, Elijah’s sleek, golden skin was stretched taut over lean muscle, and every move he made had his back muscles shifting and bunching in a way that captured Logan’s attention.
Definitely curious, that little voice in his head reiterated.
“Just in time,” Elijah said, not bothering to look back.
Let it be, Logan repeated in his head, forcing his feet to carry him over to where Elijah stood.
