Page 2 of Living at 40

Mason walks to me first, hugging me with a firm back slap like I’m one of the guys. Next, he gives a wrist-flip wave at Anna before slipping his hands into the pockets of his shorts. He never touches her, and I’ve always thought it strange. Anna jokes he only touches women he can grope, and as he considers Anna a sister with his best friend mister, he doesn’t reach for her.

That sensation of something off about Mason ripples over me and reminds me why he should not be a candidate for baby-making. Not that I’m considering baby-making with any of the clowns joining us, but I am growing older, as my mother likes to point out, and the selection of available men in my life is slim.

Mason swipes his fingers through that luscious hair, disturbing the curls along his neck and over his ears. The motion strikes me as anxious, but I can’t imagine what Mason and his playboy good looks would ever be nervous about.

A holler of greeting notifies us another friend has entered the house, and Anna and I look at one another.

“Zack,” we call out together. Zack Weller is not eligible for the three men list Anna suggested as he’s currently married, even though we all hope he divorces. It’s not a nice thought, but his wife really is a bitch. As Zack is an intelligent man, there would be merit to him as a potential sperm donor. He’d offer brains over brawn though he’s equally as attractive as Mason in a more business-suit porn, preppy weekender kind of way.

As I glance up from my spot near the island, I watch as Zack enters the kitchen area with another man to his right.

“I didn’t know Zack was bringing a friend.” As I speak to Anna, my eyes narrow.

“A friend?” Anna chuckles. “That’s Logan.”

Logan Anders?

“What?” I choke. Logan does not look like the man standing beside Zack. For one, this man’s dark hair is professionally cut and almost styled. The Logan I remember, who had a babyish face as a young man, now sports facial hair which is more than scruff but less than a beard shaved to perfection. He smiles over at Ben, and two damn dimples the size of lighthouse beams blind me, and he’s not even looking at me. His body is not what I remember either. He’s filled out differently from the college boy who used to be overweight. He’s solid in places I can see, like his biceps bulging under a tee and thighs in tight jeans, which leads me to imagine he’s thick in other places I cannot see.

Do not consider the potential.

When the boys were in college, Logan was another friend of Ben’s who tortured me for reasons completely opposite Mason. His teasing nature wasn’t from dislike as much as it was a part of his personality, and I had the biggest crush on Logan. The biggest. I wasn’t slim myself as a child, and I considered our similar physiques a good reason for Logan and me to be considered a good match. However, he only saw me as Ben’s little sister and proved it one time to my complete mortification. He wanted beautiful, skinny women and typically got them because of his winning personality. He was funny. He knew how to flirt. He was also incredibly sweet.

When did he get so hot?

“That’s Logan?” My voice rings a little too loud and with too much startled exaggeration.

“Yes,” Anna hisses, turning to me with warning eyes to lower my voice. “He’s worked really hard to lose weight, and I think he looks great.”

Great is an understatement. He’s smokin’. He’s hotter than hot. He’s the sun only rises for me hot. Unfortunately, Logan Anders will never look at me that way. I’ll never be the sun at the center of his universe. I’ll always be Ben’s little sister. Speck.

2

[Logan]

“Who’s the hottie with the body?” I mutter to Zack Weller as we enter the kitchen of Ben’s lakeside cottage and stand side by side. It’s been years since I’ve been in this home, and I already see the improvements Anna and Ben have made to the place. Clean lines in the kitchen. Practical beach house furnishings. Removal of the old drapes to allow in loads of sunshine through the plantation blinds.

Speaking out the side of his mouth, Zack mutters, “That’s Autumn.”

Autumn? Autumn Kulis? As in Ben’s little sister?

“Speck,” I choke out as I catch her looking at me. My hands slip into the front pockets of my jeans as I try to disguise the instant boner I seem to be sporting from just looking at her.

When the hell did she get so drop-dead gorgeous?

“Logan.” Her clipped voice along with a weak wave isn’t exactly the reception I’d expect to receive from my best friend’s youngest sibling, but then again, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her. In fact, I can’t remember the last time I saw Autumn. It was sometime after all our weddings. Perhaps during someone’s parent’s funeral. When Ben told me his sister would be joining us for these two weeks, I’d pictured Autumn as she was at sixteen—a little fuller, a lot geekier, and a pain in the ass. She was always following us around, and Ben allowed it. He was just too damn nice to say no.

Thankfully, he’s that kind of friend, too.

“Come to the cottage,” he’d said when I took his call a month ago. It wasn’t a strange request but out of the ordinary. We hadn’t vacationed together in years, but this year, we had all turned forty. “It’s been too long.”

When Ben told me he was getting the four of us together, plus kids and wives, I hesitated. I’m a single dad and didn’t know how I’d fit in with the old tribe. Then I remembered Mason is forever single, and Ben wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“What’s up, Mace?” I say, reaching for my former roommate. We hug as men do, clapping one another on the back before pulling apart. Ben comes to me next. He feels thinner than I remember, but it could just be that I’m not as bulky as I once was. It’s been a rough eighteen months, but I’m proud of where my body is at. I’m healthier for it, too.

As Zack and I pulled up to the house at the same time, we’ve already said our hellos in the driveway, but the room is an additional eruption of greetings, hugs, and questions.

“Where are the kids?” Anna asks.