to source the incredible scent of dinner. Nico slapped his hand when he reached for the oven door.
From behind, Alexander chuckled. “It’s a surprise. I’ve already tried.”
“Maybe we need to try harder—” Logan shut up when Nico held up a knife.
“No sly business. You two just hang. Luci and I have this.”
Hanging would be good. Hanging would be perfect.
He curled a hand around Alexander’s upper arm and steered him across the living room, which accounted for less than a dozen feet. Not exactly a privacy bubble.
He turned toward a remarkable painted portrait of Nico, set in a thick wooden frame.
Setting sunlight stretched around them and the painting. Alexander stared at it, as though looking at Logan was difficult. The goosebumps on Alexander’s neck said he was very much aware of Logan’s gaze.
“You know,” Logan said slowly, his belly squirming, “I’d love to talk about this morning.”
“There was no this morning.”
“Exactly.”
“I had some last-minute errands for the showcase.”
Logan gave him a disbelieving look. “There’s nothing you’d do differently if you could?”
Alexander’s cheeks darkened as he struggled to face Logan. “I’m sure there might be some areas I’d pay more attention to.”
Logan lowered his voice. “I missed you this morning, Alexander.”
Alexander sighed. “I missed you too.”
Logan felt the softness in his tone. The sincerity. “Okay.”
“We’re good?” Those blue eyes shone, wary with hope.
“We will be. Once we can talk.” Logan noticed Luci unabashedly watching them. “When we’re alone.”
Alexander swallowed audibly. “Better ditch the Minnesotan accent then.”
Logan grinned and projected his voice. “I just know ya wanted to go campin’ again this Saturday.”
Alexander groaned in horror and amusement. “Why, I can’t think of anything better than catching fish with our feet.”
Logan suppressed a grin. “I’m thinking we go someplace new this time.”
Alexander’s eyes narrowed. “Color me intrigued.”
“I’d like to take you away from work, away from all this liberal agenda, away from home.”
“You want to go hunting somewhere in Dollywood, Tennesse?”
“Yep.”
“While I loved saying yes to any suggestion you make, could you ask me again on the day in question?”
Logan straightened. Saying yes to everything had been part of Alexander’s bet?
Logan hummed. “I’ve got a good car for the trip. Those Truck Nutz will be right at home on the road. Or we could take your SUV.”
“I’m not sure mine would return the same,” Alexander said drily.
“Well, don’t ya sound real enthusiastic about going though!”
Alexander laughed, bright, loud, and beautiful. “I do, don’t I?”
“Makes me wish I could take ya there right now.”
“Before eating our surprise dinner?”
“You make a good point.” Logan winked toward Nico and Luci. “It smells delicious.” He looked back at Alexander and smiled. “Settled. We’ll eat and our weekend trip will happen—”
“—some other time.” Alexander’s eyes twinkled.
“Right.”
“I’d better help set the table,” Alexander said and started to move.
“Wait.” Logan caught him at the hip. Alexander melted at Logan’s touch.
“Yes?”
Logan kissed him, and then steered Alexander toward Nico’s portrait. Settled behind Alexander, Logan breathed in his herbal shampoo and pointed at the signature on the canvas. “You did this.” Not a question but a tender realization.
“Years ago.”
“Are there more?”
“A few.”
“Can you paint me?”
Alexander jerked in his arms. “What?”
“Can you paint my likeness in a portrait?”
Alexander grumbled. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I gave up painting when my grandfather died.”
Logan stilled. “I’m sorry.”
Alexander shrugged. “I’m not that talented.”
Logan begged to differ. “This looks exactly like Nico.”
“Too much, I believe. Never was rebellious with my art like my idol Manet.”
Logan chuckled. “That’s cute. I think it’s pronounced Monet. I love the precision you put into this. That pond, lily-pad stuff looks like anyone could do it.”
Alexander turned in his arms and looked at him quizzically.
“What?” Logan asked.
“Manet was a famous artist of the nineteenth century who—”
Logan pressed the pad of his finger against Alexander’s soft lips. “Your painting is beautiful, Alexander. You don’t have to be famous for me to think so.”
Breath drizzled around Logan’s finger, warm and moist.
Alexander’s gaze softened and he kissed Logan’s finger.
Nico appeared in a burst of blue, sporting a big grin. “Dinner’s ready, lovebirds.”
Chapter Nineteen
ALEXANDER
* * *
Alexander was all butterflies. Everything Logan said and did made them flap about. But tonight, nerves tempered each flutter. They teetered on the precipice of truth and change, and Alexander wanted it, but there was no certainty of them after they talked.
In fact, the most sensible part of Alexander demanded there wouldn’t be a them. This boyfriend title was founded on lies and purposeful miscommunication. How could that last?
Games and bets aside, would Alexander’s quarter-life crisis resolve itself? Would he soon realize his lonely