Page 8 of Born Daddy

“Weren’t you scared?” He shuddered. “I’d be so terrified they’d know I was full of shit within five minutes of meeting me.” His eyes snapped up. “I’m not saying you’re full of shit, or…what I mean is…”

He and Rogan would probably never see each other again after their unusual get-together, but that didn’t mean he needed to insult the guy.

“That’s okay, Tate. Believe me, I worried they’d think I was full of shit too.”

They shared an easy laugh.

After hearing more details of the undercover operation—and how Rogan and his team had brought down the gang, ending in a deadly shootout—an hour and two more cups of coffee each had gone by. The server had begun giving them the side-eye as the early dinner crowd started filtering in.

Rogan glanced her way, then stretched his arms above his head. “I think we’re getting the silent bum’s rush.”

Tate chewed his lip. He’d never heard that expression until he’d gotten with Cam. Was that something Cam and his buddies had started saying in high school, one of those meaningless shared sayings that originates with close friends, then becomes a part of a person’s imprint as they carry on through life?

A sudden compulsion to know about those early years gripped him. Maybe that’s where the answer lay as to how Cam had become such a monster.

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Tate licked his lips. Hanging out and talking with Rogan had been the most normal thing he’d done since Cam had been gunned down at his final crime scene. The thought of going back to his numb existence after they said goodbye terrified him.

“So…” Tate squirmed in his seat. “If you ever are, you know, wanting to grab coffee again sometime, I’d be up for it.”

Rogan regarded him with intent, his brow barely creased, his eyes only somewhat narrowed. But the expression was telling enough that Tate knew Rogan was running the pros and cons of getting together again through his mind. At last, he gave a barely perceptible nod.

“I’d like that. I think it would be good for us both. Maybe once a week? I’m always available on Sundays.”

Tate had been hoping for more interaction than that, but he’d take what he could get. “Sure. Sundays.”

Rogan inclined his head. “Although, I finish at the Academy early on Wednesdays. Maybe for this week at least, we could meet twice?”

Tate let out a long exhale. He wouldn’t have to be alone for a whole week. A few days would be easy, he could totally do that.

“As long as it’s no trouble.”

Rogan offered him a warm smile. “Not at all. Let’s get out of here, okay?”

Tate smiled back. “Sure.”

After Rogan had paid the bill, despite Tate’s protests, they made their way to Rogan’s truck. As they strolled through the parking, lot the awkwardness of earlier returned. Tate figured he should make his goodbyes now but wanted to make sure he had the plans for Wednesday nailed down first. That had always been one his biggest struggles. Worrying over every little thing. He’d obsess about the next meeting if Rogan didn’t spell it all out.

He probably won’t understand.

Tate struggled with what to say, running casual questions through his head with no success. Rogan beat him to it.

“Let’s exchange numbers, just in case…” Rogan paused, shifting on his feet. “Listen. I want you to look me in the eye while I say this.”

Tate complied, his heart thudding, his mind racing as he wondered what Rogan might be about to tell him.

“Call me whenever you need to, Tate. Even if you just want to talk, or if something happens—like a reporter or someone messes with you. Got it? Promise me.”

Tate swallowed hard. “I promise.”

Rogan gave him a sharp nod. “Good. Let’s get a move on and we can figure out where to meet again while I drive you home.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I was just going to take the bus again.”

Rogan pressed his lips in a thin line. “That doesn’t work for me.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t like the idea of someone recognizing you and either bullying, or even hurting you.” Rogan gave him a sheepish smile. “Sorry. Not trying to be bossy, but indulge me? Hazards of my job, I suppose. I’m always considering the worst-case scenario then working out how to avoid it.”

“That’s okay. I don’t mind.” If only Rogan knew how little he minded.

“Great.” Rogan’s smile widened. “Shall we?”

He clicked the fob to unlock the truck and Tate made his way to the passenger side. As he climbed into the large vehicle, Tate realized that a portion of the unrelenting tension that had been keeping him prisoner had eased a bit. Taking a chance and approaching Rogan had been the right thing to do.

Maybe he’d survive the horror of having been Cam’s boy after all.

---