Page 106 of Born Daddy

“No thanks, Mom,” Tate replied. “Rogan made me eat that gross marshmallow and peanut butter sandwich when we were at the island.”

Rogan mock-gasped. “I didn’t make you.”

Tate grinned at him with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Yeah, you did.”

Rogan widened his eyes at Tate. He’d threatened him with a good edging the next time they were alone if he didn’t at least try it. Tate laughed, seemingly amused at Rogan’s discomfort. Rogan knew Tate wouldn’t blurt such a thing out, not in a zillion years, but his naughty boy enjoyed pushing Rogan’s buttons. There’d been plenty of edgings and orgasm denials ever since Tate had begun exploring his inner brat.

And that was fine. Rogan had discovered that he enjoyed the push-pull, but more importantly, he felt it was healthy for Tate to learn his Daddy would always be there for him no matter what. Tate didn’t always have to be the good boy who didn’t question a thing in order to be loved.

His mom set a small bowl of dip on the table that she’d scooped out of a larger container, along with a big bowl of chips.

“I don’t know what you two are giggling about, but why don’t you take this out to Dad and Seb. I’ll set out some more when Kathy and Gerry get here. Oh, and Rebecca. I think Seb might have an announcement once she arrives.”

Rogan knew all about Seb and Rebecca’s announcement. His brother had shown him the ring.

“Sure, Mom.” Rogan stood and grabbed both bowls. “And I’ll remind Dad that chips and dip aren’t the only thing on the menu tonight.”

His mom groaned and rolled her eyes. “Yes, please. I don’t want to be eating too late when all the bugs come out.”

“I can help you, Daddy.”

Rogan glanced his mom’s way, but she didn’t show any reaction. He smiled, his heart full of how well everything had turned out and handed one of the bowls to Tate. He didn’t actually need the help, but one of the many, many attributes he’d discovered as he’d gotten to know his boy was that contributing in even the smallest of ways gave him satisfaction.

Of all the things he’d learned from Master Zane, understanding what fulfilled his boy was the hallmark of a good Daddy. Rogan had also come to accept that what worked for one boy didn’t work for another. The dynamic of the relationship he and Tate shared belonged to them—and them alone.

As they were making their way to the den, Tate paused. Rogan regarded his boy, wondering if he’d forgotten to get a drink before they’d left the kitchen.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Oh, no big deal. You said your parents winterize this place at the end of October, and don’t come back again until April.”

“Yeah. Why?”

Tate stood still, not holding Rogan’s gaze, but not purposely looking away either. He seemed lost in thought, as if he wasn’t sure he should continue.

“Tate? Tell Daddy what’s on your mind.”

Rogan’s command seemed to snap Tate out of his trance.

“I don’t want to cause trouble, but I was wondering. This is such an amazing place and…” He gave a small shrug. “I don’t know. It feels like a place for families to me. Not that it isn’t that already for you guys, but there’s never been anywhere special for me to go before.”

Rogan swallowed hard. He knew what it was Tate was afraid of saying, as if he’d be worming his way in where he didn’t belong.

“This is your family home now, too. Didn’t you hear what Mom said?”

“Yeah.” Tate worried his lower lip. “But I haven’t been part of the family for very long.”

Rogan set down the dip on the coffee table while also grabbing the chips from Tate. He pulled Tate into a hug.

“This isn’t like a workplace. We don’t operate on the principle of seniority.” Rogan snorted. “Otherwise, my dad would get his way all the time. Then we’d be eating burgers at midnight so he could watch the game, polish off a six-pack and take a long nap before starting the coals.” Rogan placed a knuckle beneath Tate’s chin, encouraging him to meet his eyes. “Whatever’s rattling around in that pretty head couldn’t be anywhere near that bad.”

Tate chuckled. “Okay, I guess not. I was just wondering why you guys don’t come here for Thanksgiving and Christmas? It would be like a Christmas card if it snowed. Or like living inside a movie.”

Tate beamed up at Rogan, his lips parted and eyes wide as if he was imagining himself in that scenario. Rogan recalled the years where they’d attempted what Tate was suggesting, and how much work it had been for his parents to transport everything they needed to celebrate as well as dragging it all back home afterward. Then there’d been the fights between him and his siblings over who’s turn it was to shovel the snow and how come Kathy got to stay inside and help in the kitchen while the rest of them had to go outside and freeze.

But Tate didn’t see that part in his mind. He only saw the joy.

“We did do that a few times when I was still a kid. I’m guessing that the cranky teenagers we became were no longer interested in hanging out with our boring parents during the holidays.” Rogan smiled down at Tate, giving him a jostle. “But I think it’s a great idea now. Especially if we all pitch in to help.”

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