Page 213 of Sin Bin

Logan grinned broadly.

“If you’d come earlier, I could have showed you how to make Ossobuco. I’ve got a batch simmering in the oven—”

“You made Ossobuco?” Logan asked excitedly.

Hunter chuckled. “I did.”

Logan pumped his fist. “Yes!”

Hunter was an amazing cook, which came in handy when he entertained. His mother was Italian. Both she and her mother had taught Hunter everything they knew about cooking. By the time he was fifteen, he’d mastered many of their signature family recipes. His Ossobuco alla Milanese was one of Logan’s favorite dishes.

Hunter led him through the south wing of the house to a rear terrace that opened onto an impeccably landscaped Japanese garden. The view from the terrace was spectacular. The rugged outline of the Rocky Mountains was visible in the distance.

As they started down a long curved path, Hunter glanced at Logan. “She’s amazing, by the way. Beauty and brains out the wazoo.”

“I know.” Logan smiled.

“We had a riveting discussion about the most recent discoveries in astronomy. She has some fascinating theories about the black holes that were found near the center of the galaxy.” Hunter grinned, clapping a hand to the back of Logan’s head. “You’ve got yourself a real keeper there.”

Logan’s chest swelled with pride and love. “Believe me, I know how lucky I am.”

“Damn right you are. And don’t you forget it.”

They passed the garden and koi pond to reach the Japanese teahouse. The wooden structure was totally authentic with a low-slung overhanging roof, shoji sliding paper screens and tatami mats covering the floor inside. Hunter frequently hosted tea ceremonies for the Japanese businessmen and diplomats he entertained. The teahouse was also where he came to meditate, especially before big games.

When he slipped inside, Logan hesitated at the threshold. He always felt like he should bow before entering the muted space.

He stood awkwardly by the door like a dirty sinner, watching as Hunter soundlessly crossed the room to light candles and incense. On his left bicep was a Japanese kanji tattoo with a ninja sword symbolizing bravery and valor.

He glanced over his shoulder at Logan. “You waiting for an invitation?”

Logan swallowed and stepped through the door. The space was full of soft diffused light that added an air of tranquility. As fragrant smoke from the incense sticks wafted toward him, he plucked at the collar of his sweatshirt. “Kinda warm in here, isn’t it?”

“Take off your shirt if you’re hot.”

Logan grinned crookedly. “You’re just looking for an excuse to see my ripped chest.”

Hunter snorted. “I see your swinging dick in the locker room every day. That’s more than enough for me.”

Logan laughed and pulled off his sweatshirt, tossing it somewhere behind him.

Hunter shot him a reproachful look.

“Sorry.” Feeling like a chastened toddler, Logan went over and picked up his shirt. He made an exaggerated show of folding it neatly and placing it on a small bamboo bench in the corner before he turned to smirk at Hunter. “Happy?”

Hunter gave him a philosophical smile. “An orderly environment fosters an orderly mind.”

Logan chuckled. “Whatever you say, Confucius.”

Hunter turned, studying Logan with those shrewd eyes that always saw way too fucking much.

“What?”

“Just trying to see where your head’s at today.” Hunter’s tone gentled. “How’re you feeling?”

Logan shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”

“You guess?”

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