One night turned into two and two into three and three into more. Hayden and Tate had been saying yes to almost three weeks’ worth of nights so far.
It was December and Christmas was in full swing at SWC. Colorful lights and garland were wrapped around lampposts, retail shop doors boasted gold-and-green wreaths and holiday music was piped through speakers inside.
Hayden had decorated her small, but pretty, tree in her apartment with red and gold decorations, and the larger one in her studio with silver and blue. She even went through the trouble of hanging outdoor lights for the first time.
As loath as she was to admit it, life really was better when she wasn’t alone during the holidays.
She’d spent a lot of time at Tate’s house, in front of the fireplace and in his bed. So much time that she hadn’t been at her own apartment much, save for running upstairs to change or showering after her classes. With her schedule trimmed back for the holidays, though, she had a decent amount of free time.
She’d finished up her last class of the year ten minutes ago and was just updating her planner and checking her email when the bell over the door dinged to alert her someone was coming in.
Since she knew exactly who that someone was, she didn’t bother calling out that she was closed.
Tate looked like the billionaire Arlene had accused him of being, his expensive trousers in deep charcoal gray, his shoes black and shiny. The part of him that deviated was the ever-present dark leather jacket that hung over his muscular, round shoulders.
“Now that’s a nice scarf,” she commented about the red scarf looped around his neck. She’d purchased it for him, for no reason except she’d seen it and thought of him.
His sexy grin was missing as he stalked toward her in the empty studio, however, causing her nerves to prickle, and not pleasantly.
And since that prickle came with fear that things had changed and she didn’t know why or how, she didn’t like it at all.
Breathe. He’s allowed to have a bad day.
Plus, he was here. That’s what mattered.
“What’s up?” she asked, forcing a bright tone.
He seemed to snap out of it at the question. “Nothing. The scarf—” he lifted one side of it “—was a gift from an incredibly beautiful woman.”
He was joking, that was a good sign. “Should I be jealous?”
He kissed her hello, a long and lingering press of his lips that assuaged her fears some. Maybe she’d overreacted. It wasn’t like she was accustomed to being happy and in a relationship. Getting used to both simultaneously would take some doing.
Hayden reminded herself not to put too much pressure on the outcome. Years ago she’d decided that being on her own was A-okay. She didn’t need a family or a marriage, or even a boyfriend, to feel whole. Even so, she couldn’t deny that she was happy with Tate. She was going to enjoy it, no matter how finite.
And she was so into Tate Duncan. More than any guy she’d ever met. It’d only been three weeks, and already he was more than a friend—way more than a sex buddy. He was just plain more, and she’d left it at that in her head. Labeling what they had was dangerous. Like naming it would lead to its inevitable end sooner rather than later.
“How did the meeting go?” she asked.
Tate had stopped by a planning meeting for the New Year’s Eve gala, which consisted of a lush black-tie party with cocktails and dancing.
“Well. Ran into Nick there. He invited us to the Purple Rose for lunch.”
Nick was, hands down, Hayden’s favorite chef. He made some of freshest, most delicious meals, all using simple ingredients.
“Us?” Without her permission, her heart lifted at the reference that Tate had mentioned her to Nick.
“We’re hardly under the radar, Ms. Green.” But Tate’s smile told her that he didn’t mind they were SWC-official. “Are you available?”
“I am,” she said with a smile of her own.
An hour later they were enjoying roasted vegetable–white bean salad, a quinoa bowl and a plate of crispy Brussels sprouts drenched in a sweet Thai dressing.
“As I suspected,” Hayden said as she spooned another healthy portion of Brussels sprouts onto her plate. “Nick sold his soul to the devil in exchange for the recipe for this sauce.”
Plus it wasn’t on the menu yet. She could get used to this sort of special treatment. She hadn’t been in the market for a boyfriend, if that’s what Tate was, but having one that held the golden key to the city was the way to go.
Tate placed his fork on his table, swiping his mouth with a napkin. His gaze was unfocused, his demeanor shifting abruptly. She was reminded of the mood he’d been in when he stepped into her studio.
“I have something to ask you.” His eyebrows compressed.
Even as her heart ka-thumped a worried staccato, Hayden said, “Okay.”
“It’s a big ask.”
“Okay.”
“Reid called me this morning, asking again if I’d consider going to London for Christmas.” His Adam’s apple jumped when he swallowed, and he reached for his water glass. “I’ve decided to go.”
“That’s great.” She meant it. Meeting his birth parents was a huge leap for him.
“I want you to go with me.”
Hayden sagged in her seat, shocked down to her toes. Everything about the way he’d been behaving would have her assuming he’d dump her not...take her to London?
She couldn’t say yes to going to London with him. Even though she’d wanted to visit England for as long as she could remember.
Meeting his family was huge. And at Christmas? That was monumental.
He continued to watch her, waiting for acknowledgment, or maybe for her to shout an exuberant yes! Since she didn’t know what to say, she sort of repeated his words. “Go with you? To London?”
“Yes. There’s more.”
More than inviting her to London for Christmas to meet his birth parents? She slicked damp palms on her jeans. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but for the sake of her sanity, she had to know, or else the possibilities would stack themselves to the heavens before falling onto her and crushing her to death.
Calm down. It’s not like he’s going to propose.
But then he said, “The Singletons are under the assumption that I’m engaged. Because I was engaged. Reid knows Claire and I ended, but I asked him not to tell George and Jane that my engagement was off.”
Oh, God. Was he going to propose?
“Why not tell them?” she croaked, her mind and heart racing like they were vying for first place.
“I’m not sure.” His frown deepened. “I was concerned they’d think I wasn’t doing well, I guess? That they would assume their son’s life was unraveling because of the news. I guess I didn’t want them to worry.”
He was one of the kindest men she’d ever met. Even amidst the turmoil in his own life, he was looking out for those who loved him. Even those he had no memory of knowing.
“If you don’t have a passport, I can pay to have it expedited for you.”
“I have a passport,” she said. “What is it, exactly, that you need from me?”
He nodded, his expression an unsure mix of dread and concern. “If they assume you’re my fiancée—if they even remember I have one—all you have to do is not argue. You don’t have to pretend your name is Claire, or anything.”
“Good. I wouldn’t.” She quirked her lips and Tate’s mouth shifted into a smile.
“I don’t want to keep you from your plans, but it’d be a huge favor for me. Your travel and incidentals would be covered.”
She started to say he didn’t have to do that but with her light work schedule and shopping for the holidays she hadn’t exactly stashed away a few thou for a trip to another country.
“I’ve always wanted to go to London.”
She might be sweating the fact that Tate, who was basically a really meaningful fling, was sort of proposing to her and asking her to go to a foreign country, but she couldn’t not be there for him when he needed her. Going to celebrate Christmas with a bunch of strangers might be weird for her, but she imagined for him, it’d be downright uncomfortable.
Plus, visiting London would be a dream come true. The alternative would be going home to Seattle to endure her grandmother’s drunkenness, her mother’s scrambling after her like a servant and her father’s apathy.
Tate was still watching her carefully, as if he was deciding whether or not to sweeten the pot by offering something more. He didn’t have to. She wanted to be with him, and this was a unique situation.
“I’ll do it.”
“Yeah?” He grinned, the agony from earlier sweeping away with that smile.
Tate deserved a win, and, dammit so did she. If pretending to be his fiancée would give them both a sense of triumph, why the hell not?
But a small voice in her head whispered, so many reasons.