Seth told himself again that he needed to stop talking.
He’d been nattering on during the entire drive to Connor’s school, Logan mumbling agreements every so often as Seth sermonized about global warming, the abysmal state of world politics, and a recent scandal involving one of the judges on a baking show. As if Logan cared in the least about baking shows!
Although he had made that cake.
As Seth exited the freeway, his belly flip-flopped, a sweet spike of warmth filling him. That adorably lopsided, delicious cake that had been Mrs. Derwood’s favorite. That Logan had baked it for him filled Seth with such gratitude and affection, which was insane since it had all been for show.
It was only part of the deal. Nothing more.
It felt like more, though. Just like last night had. Seth’s bottom was sore, but in a pleasing way that gave him a forbidden thrill every time he shifted on the heated seat. It had been so long since he’d experienced sex like that. He’d been abstinent for over a year, but even before that with Brandon, the fire had petered out long before.
With Logan, he’d felt consumed. Mastered and taken care of, known in a way that made him want to weep with pleasure and gratitude. Logan had called him baby, and Seth had felt loved, even though he knew it was impossible. But he could fool himself in the moment.
Then he’d gone and ruined it all by kissing Logan. Logan had been kind not to shove him away. Kinder than Seth deserved after breaching their agreement. Logan had said no kissing, and Seth had to remember that none of this was real.
The whole idea had been to engage in casual sex to get him over his hang-ups. Not to saddle Logan with his family issues and have a sort of breakdown. Seth should have been ashamed of how he’d unloaded all of it on Logan and then begged for sex.
Yet when he remembered the hot growl of Logan’s voice in his ear, it thrilled him.
“Baby, you take my dick like you were born for it.”
“It’s coming up on the right,” Logan said in the here and now.
“Okay!” Seth replied far too loudly, his voice pitched up and cheeks feverish. He made the turn onto the curving drive to Rencliffe, the bare trees standing sentinel, fresh snow clinging to their branches, the sun peeking out from clouds.
The drive had been plowed and salted, and when they reached the gothic buildings, the closest lot was full of vehicles and parents picking up their sons.
Seth parked and climbed out of his SUV, walking in silence next to Logan, their boots crunching in the snow. Seth stopped short. “Oh, wait. Would you rather I stayed in the car?”
“Nah. Connor will probably be nicer if you’re here.” Logan’s hands were in the pockets of his leather jacket as they walked on, and Seth thought he should really be wearing a hat.
Before he could stop himself, he asked, “You brought winter gear, right?” I sound like a nag. “Just don’t want you to be cold this weekend,” he added lamely.
“Yep,” Logan said. He lifted his chin. “There he is.”
Connor waited under a vast stone arch, his arms crossed and shoulders hunched. He wore a bright red ski jacket that was too short in the sleeves with a striped scarf that looked handmade. A stuffed duffel bag sat by his boots. As Seth waved, a pretty woman appeared, saying something to Connor.
She called, “Good afternoon, Mr. Derwood! Happy holidays.”
“Hey,” Logan replied. “Thanks. Um, you too, Ms. Patel.”
She smiled at Seth, clearly waiting for an introduction. There was an awkward silence for several moments until she said, “Hello, Mr…?”
“Oh! This is my—” Logan cut off, floundering. “Seth.”
“Seth Marston.” Seth stuck out his hand. “I’m a friend of Logan’s.”
“Mira Patel.” Her hand was soft, but the grip strong. To Logan she said, “Could we have a quick word?”
Logan gave Connor a sharp glance, frowning, then nodded and followed her inside the school. Seth smiled at Connor. “You must be glad school’s finished.” Then he remembered Connor had been threatened with expulsion. “For the holidays, I mean. I’m sure your exams went very well.”
Connor shrugged, his arms still crossed. He needed a hat too, his ears red from the cold. Seth adjusted his own beanie, wondering if it would be weird to offer it.
“Did everything go well?” Seth asked tentatively. Please don’t let this boy be expelled. Seth could imagine how devastating it would be. And what on earth would Logan do? Seth had promised he and Connor could stay until the new year but had been too swept up in—well, in Logan and the amendment to their deal—to really think about what exactly Logan would do come January. Or even how he and Logan and Connor would spend Christmas.
He felt queasy at the uncertainty of it all and prayed Angela would come through with some kind of job connection. And in the meantime, he had to focus on getting through the weekend retreat.
Connor rolled his eyes. “Yeah. I got an A on every exam.”
“That’s wonderful! Congratulations. Logan will be so proud. I’m proud too, although I know I just met you.”
The surly veneer cracked a bit, and Connor smiled slightly. “Thanks.”
“We’ll have to celebrate this weekend in Lake Placid. What’s your favorite treat?”
“Dunno.”
“Well, we’ll think of something. Thank you again for agreeing to this. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”
“Sure.” Connor shrugged, but gave Seth a bigger smile.
So perhaps he liked feeling useful. Who didn’t? Seth vowed to find ways to encourage it. As Logan returned, Seth exclaimed, “Connor tells me he aced his exams!”
Logan grinned—a real smile that lit up his worn face. “I know. He can come back in the new year. Good job.” He clapped a hand on Connor’s shoulder and said exactly what Seth was silently urging him to. “I’m real proud.”
“I told you I could do it,” Connor said, but without heat.
“You did,” Logan agreed.
It was possibly the friendliest exchange between them that Seth had witnessed. He hoped it boded well for the weekend. “We’d better get going. The bus leaves the office at two.”
Angela had allowed everyone attending the retreat—which was nearly all staff except those who had unchangeable travel plans—to leave work at noon to collect their families and luggage. As they drove into Albany, Seth peppered Connor with questions about his schoolwork, and Connor seemed willing enough to answer, warming up to the topic of computer science.
“You still like robots?” Logan asked.
“Yeah,” Connor answered warily. In the rear-view mirror, Seth could see his gaze narrow and shoulders hunch. “It’s not just kid stuff, you know.”
Logan opened his mouth as if to bite back a response, then snapped his jaw shut. When he spoke, his voice was even. “Yeah, I remember that amazing robot you built.”
“That wasn’t from scratch or anything. I had instructions from the internet.” Still, Connor seemed pleased.
“You got it to wake up your mom one morning, and she screamed so loud I dropped the coffee pot.”
The tentative peace was shattered, Connor visibly retreating into his shell. “Surprised you were even there that morning.”
Logan opened and closed his mouth again, pressing his lips together. This time, he stared out the window and said nothing more, probably thinking silence was better than an argument.
Seth flipped on the radio, and “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” filled the SUV. Cringing, he jabbed the button on the wheel with his thumb, changing the station until he found one playing regular music. It was “Highway to Hell” by AC/DC, a song that had been forbidden to him growing up.
He sincerely hoped they were on a highway to a far better destination this weekend.
At the Great Adirondack Lodge, Santa had come early. The man himself greeted the BRK Sync buses, passing out Lindt balls with a hearty “Ho-ho-ho!” In the early dusk, Lake Placid was a winter wonderland, its quaint, shop-lined main street aglow with holiday lights and wreaths, the snowbanks still fluffy and white and not splashed with mud and grime yet.
The lodge sat at the foot of the main street on the icy shores of Mirror Lake, the actual Lake Placid apparently nearby, but outside of its namesake town. The Olympic center was across the street, and Logan motioned to it.
“Pop would love to come here. The US beat Russia in hockey at the 1980 Olympics. One of his favorite moments in life.”
“Oh!” Seth said. “Yes, I’ve heard of that. We should take a look tomorrow. What do you say, Connor?”
Through a mouthful of chocolate, Connor mumbled, “Whatever.”
He’d sat in the back with some other kids on the two-and-a-half-hour bus trip. Logan had offered Seth the window seat, and he’d stared out at the snowy landscape, trying not to think about the occasional touch of Logan’s thigh against his, and how their shoulders brushed, the leather of Logan’s jacket smelling rich and enticing. Logan had leaned back and closed his eyes, although he hadn’t seemed to actually sleep.
Not that Seth had been sneaking glances at him or anything.
They trooped into the lodge, where a hotel staff member went through the list and handed out room keys. It took a while, and Seth was aware of the curious glances from his colleagues as he stood next to Logan. Connor had his face buried in his phone again, and Jenna was busy bouncing crying baby Noah while Jun wrangled Ian.
A shiver zipped down Seth’s spine as Logan leaned in, his strong hand finding the back of Seth’s neck above the collar of his unzipped parka. Logan whispered right in Seth’s ear, his lips almost brushing.
“People are real curious, huh?”
Seth nodded, not trusting himself to speak without squeaking.
Logan chuckled. “Pretend I’m saying something funny.”
Of course, in Seth’s mind he’d heard the echo from that day they’d run into Brandon, and he laughed slightly hysterically as he tried very hard not to think of Logan saying anything dirty. Now more people were looking at them, and Seth caught Angela’s eye across the crowd. A grin splitting her face, she waved and winked.
It’s all an act. All part of the deal. Now play along!
He did, he and Logan laughing at nothing and acting like they were engrossed in some secret conversation. Connor shot them the odd frown and eye roll, but Seth supposed that played right into their ruse, as most teenagers were embarrassed by their parents.
For a moment, as the hotel woman called out, “Marston family!” Seth let himself imagine what it would be like if Logan really was his fiancé and Connor their son. He had to catch his breath at the swift punch of longing and cursed himself for being a fool.
Their room was on the third floor of the lodge, and they rode the elevator in silence, Connor’s thumbs still flying over his phone screen. Once inside the room, he suddenly came to life.
“I get my own bed!” Connor launched himself at the bed by the window, throwing his duffel on top and then sprawling on the mattress. A little saying from childhood came to mind, and Seth half-expected Connor to add, “No take-backs!”
Standing in the entryway, there was a bar fridge, microwave, and coffee machine to the right, then a bathroom, and beyond that, the beds were to the right in the room, a long dresser with TV atop to the left.
Seth and Logan eyed the near bed uneasily. It was a queen, at least, but still. Seth shifted and cleared his throat. “I’m sure we can get them to bring up a cot.”
Connor looked over his shoulder where he was sprawled on his belly, screwing up his face. “Wouldn’t that seem weird if you guys are supposed to be getting married?”
“Well…” Seth was going to say no one had to know, but considering his luck, Angela herself would be in the hallway as the cot was wheeled in. “Good point.”
Connor glared at Logan. “What, you think it’s catching or something? I’ve slept in the same bed with Jayden. It’s no big deal.” He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Seth isn’t going to try anything.”
Logan unzipped his leather jacket and opened the mirrored closet in the narrow entryway. “Obviously. It’s fine,” he said gruffly. “Of course we can sleep there.”
It was interesting to Seth that after using the other F-word when they first met, now Connor was implying Logan was the one with homophobic issues. Seth gave the kid the benefit of the doubt that he’d been thoughtless that first night, lashing out blindly. He just wished Connor would stop attacking Logan. He wanted to scold him, but would that be overstepping? Surely it would.
“Better get changed for dinner. It starts early.”
Logan and Connor stared at him. Logan glanced down at his jeans and Henley. “Changed into what?” Alarm creased his handsome face. “Was I supposed to bring something fancy?”
“No, no. I’m sure the dress code is casual.” He was wearing his usual dress shirt and tie with slacks. “I’ll probably be the one overdressed. I should change.”
He bustled around, unzipping his small suitcase and hanging up the clothes he’d brought. Logan sat on the bed and flipped on the TV, going through the channels while Connor was back into a game. Seth had brought a forest-green cashmere sweater that he thought would look good over dark jeans. Yes, that would do nicely.
He almost took the clothes into the bathroom to change but decided that would seem ridiculously prudish and likely strange to Connor. Not that Connor had so much as blinked, entirely engrossed in his game and paying Seth no mind. After taking off his tie, Seth began unbuttoning his shirt.
Logan was watching.
Butterflies flapped in Seth’s stomach. It was from the corner of his eye, but yes, Logan was definitely watching. Seth pretended he hadn’t noticed, trying not to fumble with the buttons. He sucked in and peeled off his shirt, puffing out his chest a bit. Hoping he didn’t look like a fool.
Standing in his boxers, Seth hung up his shirt, looping the tie over the neck of the hanger. He could feel the heat of Logan’s gaze on his bare skin like a caress. Without meaning to, he thought of the night before, being on his hands and knees for Logan, being filled by him.
He remembered the rough caresses of Logan’s hands on his flanks, his hips, his thighs. His…
Cock.
Oh good lord, Seth was getting hard. He bit the inside of his cheek, still facing into the closet. Thinking of his old cat Agatha did the trick, the ache of missing her flushing out the burst of lust. He finished dressing quickly and escaped into the bathroom to splash cold water on his cheeks.
Dinner was a buffet of comfort food—definitely not fancy. Which was actually a relief, and Seth dug into the mac and cheese with gusto. He, Logan, and Connor sat with Jenna, Jun, and the boys, and Jenna kept up most of the dinner conversation.
Matt and Becky were at the next table, and Matt gave Seth a thumbs-up and mouthed, “Caper, caper, caper!” Seth promptly spilled gravy on his sweater and excused himself to the bathroom to blot at it with a paper towel.
When he re-entered the corridor off the hotel restaurant, Jenna was there bouncing a fussy Noah. She groaned. “I just want to eat all the carbs and go to sleep. Kids are exhausting.”
Seth whispered, “Don’t complain about motherhood too loudly with Angela around. Actually, that’s not fair. She had good advice for Logan last night.”
Jenna stepped closer. “How did it go? You barely answered my nosy texts.” Since Friday was her temporary day off from the office, this was the first chance Seth had had to speak with her privately.
He whispered, “Really well, I think? Seemed to, at least. She was all smiles.”
“And Logan performed?”
It was an innocent question, but Seth’s brain immediately supplied the memory of Logan performing extremely admirably in Seth’s bed. The echo of grunts and moans and slapping skin filled his head, and he swore his butt twinged. “Uh-huh!”
Jenna groaned. “Oh no. What did he do? What aren’t you telling me?”
“Nothing!”
“You’re a terrible liar, Seth.”
He rubbed his face. “I know! That’s why I should never have agreed to any of this!” But the thought of not getting to know Logan the past week or two was a gut-punch, shocking in its sudden severity. Seth exhaled shakily. “But I’m glad I did. Logan’s been terrific. Really.”
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Yeah? Okay, good. You guys seem to be faking it really well. I almost believe all the longing glances between you two.”
It truly shouldn’t have hurt—but, oh, it did. Seth told himself it was ridiculous, yet his heart ached anyway, and he could only manage a strangled half-smile. He hadn’t even realized he and Logan had been glancing at each other during dinner, and especially not with longing.
Part of him wanted to insist that it wasn’t fake at all, that the sex he and Logan were having had to mean something. Of course he couldn’t say that to Jenna since she had no idea her brother was anything but straight. At least not that Seth was aware, and there was definitely no good way to casually probe to see if she had an inkling.
Jenna touched his arm. “It seems like you guys have become friends? I’m so happy about that. You’re both wonderful people, you know that?”
His smile this time was genuine. “So are you.” He hugged her briefly, careful not to squish Noah, who had settled. “And yes, I’d like to think we’ve become friends through this deal. Logan’s so hard on himself. He and Connor both.”
“Hopefully this weekend will be good for them. And you.” She glanced around. “We’d better get back. Angela’s probably going to make a ‘BRK is one big happy family’ speech any minute.”
Sure enough, Angela did just that. Seth clapped in the right places and nodded and smiled as he tried not to look at Logan. It was a relief when they could escape back to their room after a performance by a local choir.
“Santa Claus is Coming to Town” was stuck on a loop in Seth’s head as he changed into his flannel pajamas. He was aware of Logan’s gaze and looked up as he finished the buttons on his top. Logan stood by the side of the bed in his black boxer briefs.
And nothing else.
“Oh,” Seth murmured without meaning to. Connor was in the bathroom, so it was just the two of them for the moment. Seth looked down at his plaid PJs. He felt stupidly prim and overdressed.
“I should probably…” Logan unzipped his duffel and pulled out a plain gray T-shirt. He pulled it on, covering his sexy, hairy chest. “Ugly, I know.”
Seth jolted, realizing he was staring, and that Logan meant the scars. “No. Not at all. That wasn’t…”
Connor re-emerged, wearing an oversized T-shirt and boxers. He yawned widely as he shuffled by, pimple ointment dotted over his face. He huddled under the covers and didn’t bother saying goodnight.
In their bed, Logan crawled over to the left side, which was against the wall separating the bedroom area from the bathroom. Seth stretched out on the edge of the mattress, in danger of rolling off and cracking his head on the side table. He reached up and snapped out the light, murmuring, “’Night.”
“Sleep well,” Logan whispered from behind him. Only inches separated them, and Seth imagined he could feel the heat of Logan’s muscular body.
He could still feel it an hour later, sleep stubbornly elusive. As gently as possible, Seth rolled over, facing Logan. In the white glow of the digital clock on the side table, he could see the lines and shadows of Logan’s face, and the rise and fall of his shoulder as he breathed softly.
When Logan opened his eyes, Seth had to bite back a gasp, his heart skipping. They stared at each other, and Seth’s body responded, his breath shallow, blood flooding south as he got shamefully hard. He reminded himself Connor was in the other bed and that even if he wasn’t, this connection with Logan wasn’t real.
They stared at each other, only inches apart. It would be so easy to lean a bit closer, to kiss Logan again and breathe him in, just for a minute before they slept. He could feel the heat from Logan’s body and wanted to climb into his skin…
Seth rolled away, squeezing his eyes shut as he curled on the very edge of the bed. He swore he could sense Logan watching him, and willed himself to think of something else—anything else!—so he could sleep and this night would be mercifully over.