“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.
Eleven
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 decoration
s, 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 Seattl
e 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.
Twelve
Reid and Drew had flown to London two days ago. There was a reason Tate didn’t sync his flight with his twin’s: he wanted to keep his stay in the UK as brief as possible. With the excuse of work—partially true—he’d instead booked his and Hayden’s international flight to arrive at 11:15 a.m. December 23. That gave them the day to hide away to rest, and then they could emerge for cocktail hour and dinner before ducking away again to sleep. Then all he’d have to endure was Christmas Eve and Christmas Day before flying home the next morning. Which, thanks to an eight-hour time difference, would land them in Seattle just two hours after they left England.
He’d booked first-class business tickets on the flight out, not because he was planning on working but because they were the best seats the airline had to offer. Hayden was doing him a solid by joining him—he wanted to make sure she felt special.
When Hayden sat in her seat next to a bulky armrest-slash-desk, her eyebrows were so high on her forehead it was almost comical. “Tate.”
She took in the cabin around her, which consisted of thirty business-class “pods,” each with its own private, wraparound seat dividers. There was a divider that could separate his and Hayden’s seats as well, but he’d lowered it the second they found their seats.
“Sorry, this was the nicest seat the airline had.”
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