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I finished my coffee and suggested I take a look at the back storage room before too many customers came in.

I'd warned him earlier I might need to turn the power off at the mains, so he thought the earlier the better.

So I collected my gear from my truck and dumped it in the storage room. Wasting no time, I climbed into the roof cavity to see if I could locate an obvious problem for the light shortage in the storeroom.

The space was like all ceiling cavities—dusty, dirty, and full of spider webs. It was also home to one crispy mouse and chewed-through wires. It'd be an easy fix.

I stuck my head through the access hole and called out to Logan. I showed him the culprit, and he turned his nose up and stifled a strange
eeeeep
sound at the sight of the blackened mouse. He held out the wastebasket for me to drop it into and shuddered from head to foot when it fell into the bin. I chuckled at him, and he glared at me. "You'll

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be washing your hands before you touch me again, mister."

I grinned down at him, and he rolled his eyes, then quickly changed the subject. "So what do you need?"

I already had my flashlight, so I asked him to hand up the reel of blue cable, my needle-nose pliers, and asked him to turn the power off.

He looked at me nervously. "Will you be okay?"

I smiled at him through the hole in the ceiling, and I didn't even roll my eyes. "Yes, I'll be fine."

"How will you know when the power's off?"

I stifled a laugh. "Um, because it will be dark."

He glared at me through the hole, put his hands on his hips, and raised one eyebrow. "Right then, smartass."

I laughed, and he turned on his heel and disappeared from my view. But I heard him mumbling as he walked off.

"I can hear you through the ceiling," I called out.

"Good," he shot back, from what sounded like in the front room. "Then I won't have to ask if you're okay if I do this?" he said, just as he flicked the main power.

I smiled, even though he couldn't see me. "Good," I replied in the dark. "Then I won't have to tell you I'm fine."

I flipped on my flashlight and had started replacing the damaged wires when I heard the bell on the front door indicating a customer. Then a female, English-accented voice said, "Logan? Why are the lights out?"

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"Well, dear sister," he answered, letting me know who he was talking to, "the lights are out so the electrician fixing the lighting problem doesn't end up like the mouse who ate the wires."

"A mouse chewed through the wiring?" Beth asked.

"Yes, it got electrocuted," Logan told her. "Ugh. It was disgusting." I smiled to myself.

"Is there a lot of damage?" Beth asked, alarmed.

"And just how much is a Sunday call-out charge going to cost me?"

"He's already paid me," I called out.

There was silence for a long moment, until Logan

explained, "He can hear through the ceiling, apparently."

"Oh," Beth said. Then she whisper-shouted, "Lord blimey, Logan, you could have told me."

I chuckled. They sounded alike; their English

accents matched.

"I'm almost done," I told them. And not a moment later, I asked Logan to turn the power back on. "Okay, flick the switch in the storage room."

And presto!

There was light.

I collected my gear and stepped down the ladder to face a waiting Logan and his sister, Beth. She was tall and slim with long brown hair. They looked alike, even though

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she didn't wear glasses.

I brushed a spider web from my shoulder and

dusted off my hands before extending one out to introduce myself to Logan's sister.

Logan spoke first. "Beth, this is Brent Kelly. Brent, this is my sister, Beth."

We shook hands, and I gave her my best smile. "Hi.

Nice to finally meet you. Logan talks about you all the time."

And I could see the moment in her eyes when the

penny dropped. "You're Brent?"

I nodded. "Sure am."

Logan cleared his throat. "Beth, Brent's an

electrician, and he offered to take a look at the problem."

She looked me up and down. "Yes, I can see that.

Thank you," she said rather curtly. Her British accent had more bite than Logan's. I realized then, though I had no clue why, but Logan's sister didn't like me.

The bell at the door rang, signaling a customer.

Logan looked at me then at his sister and reluctantly left us alone to greet whoever had just walked into the store. I started to pack up my gear.

"He thinks very highly of you," Beth said somewhat dismissively, as though to her the idea made no sense.

I smiled regardless. "I happen to think very highly

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of him too."

"How did you meet?" she asked, point blank.

I sighed, wondering what her angle was. "I took a shoebox full of receipts and records into my new

accountant."

She nodded like she finally understood. "So after he's got you the best tax deal possible, you'll just dump him?"

"What?" I stared at her disbelievingly. I shook my head. "No…"

I couldn't believe this woman. She didn't know

me—at all. I'd just fixed her lighting problem in her store—

for free—and yet she proceeded to judge me for an asshole.

She gave a loud sigh, as though her own rudeness

bothered her. "Look," she started, "you seem like a nice guy but forgive me for being protective of him. I've always had to look out for him since he was little from people like—" She stopped short.

"From people like me?" I finished for her. "You don't even know me."

Beth looked over her shoulder, ensuring Logan was

out of earshot. "Logan's sweet, but he gets taken advantage of." Then she finished quietly with, "I can tell he's taken with you. I just don't want to see him hurt."

"Neither do I," I told her truthfully. "But you should

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give him more credit. And for what it's worth, I'm rather taken with him, too."

Beth stared at me. I think she was trying to gauge the sincerity of my words, or maybe they'd surprised her.

Logan walked hesitantly into the storage room. He could obviously feel the tension in the room because he glanced between us. "Everything okay?"

I gave him a smile. "Sure." I picked up my tools.

"But I have to get going. I told Tim we'd hang out this afternoon."

He shot his sister a warning glance then looked at me. "Okay," he said with a tight smile. "Tell him I said

'hello'. And thank you so much for fixing the lights. I'm sure Beth's very grateful." He gave his sister a pointed stare, prompting her to reply.

"Oh, yes, I am. Thank you," she said. "Really, thank you. And I'm sorry about before. I'm sure you can

understand."

And the shitty thing was I did understand. Logan

himself had told me he had a rough time at school and college, and that must have been hard for his sister to witness. I gave her a nod, and then I picked up the reel of cable and walked over to Logan. "It really was no bother at all," I told him. Seeing the store was empty of customers, save Beth standing behind us, I leaned in and kissed his

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cheek. His eyes darted to his sister, and a deep blush covered his pale cheeks. I smiled. "Call me tonight?"

He nodded, and I left without even looking to see

the expression on Beth's face. But as I walked out the front door, and before it could close behind me, I heard Logan snap at his sister. "What the hell did you say to him?"

* * * *

I was on my second beer and losing disgracefully at pool when Tim eyed me cautiously. "Wassup, Brent? I take it meeting the sister didn't go too well. You've been a moody pain in the ass since you got home."

I sighed. He had the tact of a wrecking ball. "No, it didn't go too well."

"Why not?"

I shrugged. "She doesn't like me."

Tim frowned as though the concept was ludicrous.

"What the hell's her problem?"

I snorted. "I'm not good enough."

"You're what?"

I shrugged again. "She thinks I'm not good enough,"

I said again. "Well, that's what she implied. That I'm only out to hurt him because
someone like me
couldn't possibly like
someone like him
."

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"That's bullshit."

I looked at Tim, knowing he'd answer me honestly.

"Are we that different?"

Tim put his beer down. "You know what? Who

gives a fuck what anyone else thinks? What anyone else thinks doesn't matter. As long as you're both happy, it's no one else's business." And then he grinned at me. "And I can see how much you like him."

I nodded and gave a bit of a smile. I'd avoided any kind of permanent relationship, any kind of emotional attachment, refusing to see anyone twice for more than a fuck. But Logan was different. I knew it in my bones. I looked at Tim and said, "I told him about my parents."

Tim blinked. Only he would understand the

significance of me telling Logan about my family. "Well, shit…"

I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, I know."

Just then two hands slapped down on my shoulders

from behind me. "Look, the prodigal son has returned."

Marty.

I turned to face him. "Hey," I said. "How's it going?"

"Good, good," he replied. "Saul's just getting drinks.

Who's winning at pool?"

"I am on fire!" Tim crowed, and the usual jokes,

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teasing, and general not-overly-intelligent conversations between us began.

We had a few more games of pool and a few more

beers and basically spent the afternoon laughing. Until Marty asked the loaded question. "So," he drawled out,

"when do we meet him?"

"Who?"

He rolled his eyes. "The new man. The guy who's kept your company for the last three weekends in a row.

That we know nothing about."

"Maybe he's imaginary," Saul joked.

"Nah," Tim chimed in. "I've met him."

"You have?" Marty asked, surprised. "What's he like?"

Tim grinned. "He's a nice guy. He's smart, funny, English. You know," Tim said with a laugh. "If I was gay…"

I rolled my eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Shut the fuck up." He laughed, and the other two just smiled and waited for me to tell them something.

I smiled nervously, surprised that Tim hadn't told them
something
before now, but obviously he hadn't. I took a deep breath. "His name is Logan. And I'm not sure he's ready to meet you guys."

"Oh, why not?" Marty asked, half joking, half not.

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"We don't bite. Much." Then he looked at me, somewhat seriously, and said, "Nah, man, that's great. I'm happy for ya."

I nodded at his ability to lie. He wasn't happy at all.

"Thanks."

"So," Marty added, "he must be good in bed to keep you interested."

I considered telling him to fuck off, and then I

considered bragging and telling him he was the best I'd ever had, but all I did was sigh instead. "It's more than that."

"Holy shit," Saul mumbled. He looked in total disbelief at Tim, who grinned and nodded.

Tim held his beer up and turned to face a room of

complete strangers. "And it's official!" Tim announced loudly to the entire bar. "Brent Kelly is off the market."

I glared at him, completely embarrassed. "Yeah, thanks, asswipe."

I looked at Marty and Saul. Marty's eyes were wide.

"Is he your
boyfriend
?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, I guess he is." I smiled at them. "He's different than anyone else I've met.

He's quiet and smart. He's got the sexiest accent." God, I was gushing like a school girl.

Saul grinned at me while Marty looked a little…

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well, peeved.

I'd told him before I wasn't interested in him like that, but he just didn't seem to get it. I clinked my beer bottle to his, trying to lighten the mood and wanting to show him we were still good. "Come on, set the balls up," I said, nodding toward the pool table. "You and me."

He took a pull of his beer and nodded. And the four of us played pool for a while, had a few more beers, and talked utter crap. By the time we left, Marty seemed okay with me, thankfully. I wanted my friends to like Logan. I wanted them to get along.

So when they asked me to bring Logan along for

drinks on Friday night, I told them I'd ask.

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CHAPTER 10

I'd had a few beers playing pool and was

appropriately buzzed and was lying on my bed when Logan phoned that night, like he said he would. He apologized again and again for the way Beth had behaved. He

explained how her protectiveness comes off as bitchiness, and she really didn't mean any harm.

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