Page 33 of Born Daddy

“I think that’s the beach I went to on a field trip once. The third grade maybe?” Tate looked Rogan’s way again. “Is it the one with the big carousel?”

Rogan let out his own relieved sigh. Tate’s voice sounded more hopeful.

He smiled. “Yeah, that’s the one. I used to love going there when I was a kid. Parents took me and my brothers and sisters there at least a couple times every summer. Of course, they had other rides back then, some great carnival type ones.”

“Really? Wow.”

Tate went back to staring ahead and Rogan wondered if he should’ve brought up family outings to a foster care kid. He resisted the urge to groan out loud. So far, he’d been failing miserably at making the day a jolly and carefree one for Tate.

But Tate surprised him again. “Can you tell me about it? Not just the beach, but what it was like having a big family, and what you guys did? Like, did you go on vacations to other places? What did your mom and dad do? Did they both work? Are you guys all still close?”

Rogan grinned and his heart no longer felt like it was being squeezed by an iron fist. Tate’s inquiries had been said with a measure of excitement, and Rogan was grateful he hadn’t ruined the mood of the day.

“Well, let’s see. Where do I start?” Rogan snuck a peek at a now-smiling Tate. “Yes, we’re all still close, but my brother Seb and I are nearer in age, so I think that’s made us closer. There’s four of us altogether.” He chuckled. “Catholic background, you know. Dad has his own hardware store that’s managed to survive the big box chains, with Mom mostly staying home. Although she loves to bake and, for a time, worked early mornings in a bakery.”

The time flew by as Rogan rattled off his history, sharing some of the adventures he’d had with his family. The family dog that had jumped on the table and eaten the cake at his aunt’s second wedding. The road trip to the Capitol they’d taken when he was eleven that had ended up being an excuse to visit the Babe Ruth museum in Baltimore. That snippet had then segued into all the games at Fenway Park he’d gone to with his Dad and brothers to see the Sox play.

The entire time he reminisced, Tate sat happily, the grin never leaving his face whether he was in rapt attention, asking a question to clarify an event or laughing at Rogan’s or another family member’s antics.

For the first time since Cam’s death, a sense of peace settled over Rogan. He shoved away his concerns over the relationship developing between him and Tate and decided to go ahead and enjoy the ride. After all, it wasn’t as if Tate was attracted to him. What did he have to worry about?

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