Page 7 of Unmistakably Us

He was glutted on swallowing his pride; he seemed to be doing it so much of late, but it worked. Michael let his chest deflate, smiled their dad’s smile—his smile—and slapped Logan’s bicep. “No worries, brother, I’m just a bit edgy today. It was more me than you. Now, let’s get this finished up so we can go for a beer, what do you say?”

Michael called everyone brother, the men he was close to anyway, but it still struck Logan every time it was directed toward him.

“Sure thing.” Logan’s enthusiasm wasn’t as fake as he half expected it to be. There was a certain calm to the precision of working on an aircraft that put him in a good place, centered his focus. Which is exactly what he needed. He was a tunnel-vision kind of guy, so sometimes, all he could do was change tunnels.

John had moved closer, presumably to try to defuse the situation if needed, and then he hovered around like a buffer. Logan covertly slid his gaze to the side to check out the older man.

John was shrewd and smart. While he seemed to always give Logan the benefit of the doubt, he also never seemed to stop looking for a reason not to. It was disturbing the way he silently eyed him and Michael from a distance. Almost as if he could see what no one else could. What Logan felt was plain as the fucking midday sun.

Shit, I see it, and I’ve made every effort to hide it.They looked like fucking brothers. Each of their maternal DNA had been overpowered by the tainted side. Different mothers be damned since both of them took after their father in the looks department.

But that dimple in Michael’s chin? That was all Lucinda. It made him both sad and infuriated every time Michael shaved and it was visible.

Yeah, dude, you’re emotionally healthy as fuck.

Michael broke into his thoughts with a slap to the back. Logan couldn’t stop his natural reaction and stiffened before he gained control of his body.

“You did good today, Logan. At the rate you’re going, you’ll leave us and the pittance the old man over there is paying you, to go work for one of those corporate jet services in no time. Just remember us little people when you do.” Michael kept his hand on his shoulder as he guided him away from the plane.

It was uncomfortable to be touched in a way he had never realized he craved by a brother he wasn’t sure he even wanted to know.

It was also disconcerting. Any time a male relative had complimented him and slapped him on the back, it was because Logan had something they needed or they were about to lose their temper and take it out on him. Or in the case of his Uncle Russ, well, he needed an accomplice in case he got caught.

Uncle Russ had used him more than once to blame a petty crime on. He sold the sob story about him being on disability but taking in the son of his dead murderer of a brother like a champ. Crying to the cops about how he tried to raise him right and he could barely feed him and himself but he did the best he could, blah, blah, blah. Boo-fucking-hoo. Uncle Russ was no more disabled than I was.

Of course, small town living at its finest. Uncle Russ deserved a fucking trophy case full of Oscars. After the cops would leave with a “you’re doing the best you can” to Russ, and “next time I won’t let you off so easy” to Logan, Russ would cane the shit out of him for getting caught.

A trip down that particular memory lane was not what Logan needed tonight. He needed a drink and a dirty blonde, a very flexible dirty blonde. One who was about to take the stage at Pole Position.

“I appreciate the offer, man, but I have plans tonight.” Logan disengaged himself from the hold that was freaking him out and causing his emotions to go bipolar and hustled toward the hangar door.

He was almost free, but John halted his escape. “Hot date tonight?”

Three simple words in the form of a question, but with suspicion woven around them. Logan was sure January wouldn’t have mentioned his frequent visits to the club to John. Augusta maybe, sisters and all, but not John. He had shown some interest in her when she came by the hangar or when they’d been at gatherings, but not more than friendly interest. Certainly not to the point to raise John’s attention.

Logan decided it was his own guilt making him hear something that wasn’t there. He’d been thinking some pretty dirty shit about her all day long. The overarching theme of the day had to do with her pretty face smashed into a pillow. Her elegant hands tied in a perfect but simple square knot at the small of her back. And him watching her ass ripple as he pounded her from behind using the knot to aid his advance and retreat.

Eventually he could see the rope above her elbows and elsewhere. The intricacy of the knotted fiber against her pale skin would be a work of art. Erotic art. The teeth of his zipper started abrading the sensitive skin as his cock swelled. The piercing was causing friction as his problem grew.

When he adjusted his cock and experienced slight relief from the bite of the metal teeth and abrasive cotton fibers, he realized he was lost in thought, and John and Michael were waiting for an answer.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell or tell then kiss. Either way…rain check?”

This time, he made it to the door before he had to explain further.

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