“Mmm.” Hayden hummed, pure satisfaction.
Tate smiled over at the dark-haired beauty on the floor next to him, proud of those three letters making up one truncated sound. He’d worked hard.
“We’re good at that,” he stated.
“We are.” Her throat bobbed with a husky, sexy laugh She turned her head to face him, and he was struck momentarily speechless by the unwavering eye contact. “I had complete faith in you.”
Goose bumps prickled her arms and she shivered. He rolled to the side and rubbed her biceps with his hand in an attempt to warm her.
“How about some hot cocoa or tea?”
“I’d never turn down cocoa. Do you have marshmallows?”
“What am I, a barbarian? I have homemade marshmallows from Blossom Bakery.”
“I love those.” Her expression was a lot like her last O face, which made him grin.
He offered a hand and helped her sit up.
“Wow. I’m zapped.” She put a hand to her hair. “I must be a mess.”
“You are a mess. A complete and utter, distracting, hot mess.”
“That...was a compliment, I assume?” She narrowed one eye.
“Yes.” He kissed her succinctly. “What time are you going to Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow?” He knew some families ate earlier in the day—hell, his own mother set the table at 11:00 a.m.
“I’m—” She shook her head in a rare show of discomfort. “I’m not going anywhere for Thanksgiving. My family...we’re sort of distant.” The arms she’d wrapped around herself tightened.
“If you don’t have anywhere to be in the morning then you should stay the night here.”
“You want me to stay?”
“I do. Yes. And then I want to do what we just did three or four more times.”
“Four!” she said on a laugh. “Four times before tomorrow morning?”
“Preferably.”
He’d hardly know himself right now if he were an outside observer. He was beyond what should be comfortable with Hayden this soon.
After he’d learned of his actual birth parents and twin brother, Tate had vowed to deal with it like he had any other moment of adversity. Just plow through with certainty and confidence that it would work out in the end. He’d underestimated the emotional toll of finding out his entire existence was a lie.
His relationship with his adoptive parents had become strained—a totally new dynamic for them—and then Claire had ended the engagement. Tate began thinking that closeness wasn’t something he was meant to have on a long-term basis.
He was having trouble categorizing Hayden, though. He liked being close to her. He liked her honesty and wit. He just plain liked her. Way more than he should.
Tate had played safe his entire life. Had laid out each step after the last in a predictable, cautious way. What good had playing it safe done him? He’d lost everything unexpectedly.
A part of him argued that he should be smart about this thing with Hayden—that he shouldn’t get in too deep—and in response he raised a middle finger. He was trying a new tack. He was embracing danger and unpredictability for a change.
He needed to shake off the caution from his past. Needed to feel alive. And since no one made him feel more alive than Hayden Green, he needed her.
They both dressed, pausing to send satisfied smiles over at each other in between zipping and buckling. She tugged on her boots and pulled a hair tie from her pocket. In two seconds, and barely trying, she’d fashioned a ponytail.
“Impressive.” Everything about her.
He took her hand and walked with her downstairs. Five minutes later he served her at his kitchen table, setting a mug piled high with sticky, square marshmallows in front of her.
She cradled the mug before navigating a sip of the cocoa around the melting marshmallows. “Mmm.”
“When you made that sound earlier, I liked it then, too.”
“Yes, well, you earned it.”
Confidence straightened his shoulders at the comment and again when she looked around the room. He admired it with her—the stylish gas fireplace, the wide open windows with nothing but dark woods beyond. His carefully chosen furnishings, earthy in both materials and color.
“I’d love to have this much space.” She tilted her head back to admire the overhead lighting. “Not that I don’t love living above my studio. But this...” She let out a wistful sigh. “This is beautiful.”
“Does that mean you’re staying?”
“I didn’t bring any clothes.” She pressed a finger to his lips when he opened his mouth to argue. “You’re going to say I don’t need them.”
“Damn straight.” Movement outside caught his attention and he pulled her finger from his lips. “Look.”
A deer poked its head from the trees, cocking its ears to listen. Hayden let out a soft gasp of surprise.
“This is why I tucked my house into the woods. So? You staying?”
“You think a deer is enough to get me to agree?”
“I was hoping that and the promise of sex four more times before morning might seal the deal.”
She chuckled, but didn’t answer him.
“Tell me about your twin brother.” She lifted her mug.
“Not the smoothest segue.”
“Go big or go home. Except I’m not going home. Not yet, anyway.”
“Tease.” It was easy to be with her, even when she asked questions about his newfound family.
“It has to be mind-boggling to have a twin. To have that connection with someone. Do you see aspects of yourself when you look at him?”
He had to think about how to answer that. Not because he was choosing his words, but because he hadn’t really thought of Reid and himself in that way. What was it like to look at Reid, whom Tate had shared a womb with, for God’s sake?
“We both gesture with our hands when we talk. Not wildly or anything, but subtly. We do this—” he pressed his index finger and thumb together like he was popping a balloon with a pin “—when we want to make a point. I never paid attention to that until Reid did it. And then I noticed I did it, too. That I’ve always done it.”
“So you make the same gestures even though you haven’t been around each other for decades.”
“Apparently. It’s surreal. I always thought I was an only child and then I meet this stranger and a few dinners later it’s like I’ve known him my whole life.”
“I guess in a way, you have.” Hayden rested her hand on Tate’s thigh.
“He invited me to London for Christmas.” Tate took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that invitation. “Where my parents live.”
“That’s exciting,” she said, but there was caution in her tone.
“I didn’t give him an answer yet, but Reid and Drew—his pregnant fiancée—are going.”
“You’re going to be an uncle.” Her face brightened. “Lucky. I’m an only child. No hope of being an aunt unless I’m made honorary aunt by one of my friends.”
And to think he used to be an only child, too. “It’s...overwhelming to have this all happening at once.”
“I’m sure it is. I bet your adoptive parents are having a hard time letting you navigate the holidays now that they have to share you.”
“You have no idea.” He rubbed his temple, a headache forming behind his fingers. His mother had cried when he’d told her he wouldn’t be home for Thanksgiving or Christmas, and his father had demanded he consider someone other than himself. Tate hadn’t argued, simply explaining that he was doing what he had to do. A breath later his father was apologizing and his mother had stopped crying. Tate still felt the sting from their reactions, though. He’d had an almost consuming need to give in to what they wanted. In the end he’d stood his ground.
“I’m sorry. Just tell me to shut up. I didn’t mean to encroach on your—”
“I was kidnapped,” he interrupted, and Hayden’s jaw went slack. She didn’t know the whole truth, and he needed her to see the full picture. If only to understand why he was making the decisions he was making “At age three. I was taken from my and my brother’s birthday party in London, and our parents never found me again. My adoptive parents assumed the agency they were adopting me from was legitimate until that agency extorted money from them. They suspected something was off, but they wanted a child so badly.”
His budding headache took root and throbbed like a truth bomb ready to detonate.
“The Duncans were told my birth parents were dead—they were given falsified death certificates filled out with fake names. Eventually, my real birth parents believed I was dead. They buried an empty casket five years after my disappearance.”
“Oh, Tate.” Sympathy flooded Hayden’s dark eyes.
He continued, monotone. Might as well share it all. “My adoptive parents paid the so-called agency’s exorbitant fees without asking too many questions. My mother said she never would’ve imagined I was kidnapped. She had an inkling that the agency was unscrupulous, but if money was the only thing standing in the way of bringing me home...”
He shook his head. It wasn’t their fault. Not really. But he couldn’t help blaming them for not acting on their instincts. Had Marion explored that inkling he might’ve been raised in London rather than California. He might’ve been returned to his rightful home, to his actual birth parents who were no more than strangers to him now.
And you wouldn’t have been raised by the Duncans. Which meant never knowing the family he loved dearly. Never setting foot on Spright Island to build a community that he treasured. Never meeting the people who lived here—Hayden included.
He wasn’t sure which thought was more chill-inducing.
Spooked, the deer became suddenly alert, before turning and darting off into the trees, his white tail a visible exclamation point in the dark. Had his parents been equally afraid of digging for the truth?
“Then a month ago I was in a coffee shop in Seattle, and this guy in front of me in line starts babbling about how I was his twin brother.”
Hayden’s hand formed a fist and she seemed to keep herself in check. Like she wanted to touch him but didn’t know if she should. “You must’ve been...”
“Terrified,” Tate finished for her. “I called my mom after, expecting her to laugh it off. She didn’t. And the next night when I had dinner with Claire, I drank a stupid amount of wine and told her everything I just told you, and...”
“She left you.”
“Not that night, but eventually. Yes.” He gave Hayden a sad smile. “Now’s your chance.”
But she didn’t heed his warning, stand up and put on her coat. She gripped the back of his neck and kissed him soft and long. Achingly gentle. He returned her kiss, tasting on her lips the newfound courage she’d uncovered.
She made him feel strong, confident. All the ways he used to be that had gone missing recently. He felt as if he’d been tossed overboard into a churning sea of uncertainty and was only now clawing his way onto dry land.
“Most complicated one-night stand ever,” she said, rubbing her thumb along his bottom lip.
“Is that enough for you?” God knew it was all he had to give. He couldn’t rely on the future any longer. Certainty was a myth.
She tilted her head and watched him. “I’m not opposed to two nights.”
He smiled. “How about we take it one night at a time?” He was already mentally undressing her, wanting more of the earlier taste she gave him.
She unbuttoned a button on his shirt and then the one under it. “One night at a time.”
He covered her lips with a kiss, the sweetness from the marshmallow on her tongue. One night at a time was as unchartered as territory came for him. Completely opposite of how he’d operated before.
He had no idea where they would end up. One night at a time broke every rule he had, every guideline he’d followed previously. Which was exactly what he needed.
Different. New. Exciting.
In a word: Hayden.