Page 32 of Breakfast Included

“Jeez, get a room,” Ricky griped, but his tone was teasing.

Tate eased his hold on Reno, who barely held back a groan of disapproval, but Tate didn’t release him. He settled a hand on Reno’s hip. The look on his face was pure love. His lips glistened from the kiss, and the corners of his mouth tipped up into a blissful smile.

“I love you too,” Reno whispered. “I’ve loved you my whole life.”

“And on that note.” Ricky clapped his hands a couple of times. “I have a game to get ready for.”

Reno tensed when Ricky walked up to Tate and stared at him for a second. Then his shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. His brother could be so intimidating to look at, especially when he played into it, but when he smiled—genuinely smiled—he could make angels sing.

He clapped Tate on the shoulder. “Be good to my little brother or, well . . . you know.”

“Oh yeah, I know.” Tate chuckled and pulled Ricky into a back-slapping hug.

Ricky stepped out of the embrace and turned to Reno. “You’re still coming to the game, right?”

Reno slid his gaze to Tate. He wanted to make up for lost time and take him home. Ring in the new year in bed. But he’d already missed one holiday with his dad, and he hadn’t seen Ricky in months.

“Whatever you want to do,” Tate said softly. “I’ll be here when you get back. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Uhm . . .” Reno looked from his brother to his dad and back at Tate.

“Ugh!Love.” Ricky threw his arms in the air and headed for the foyer. “I’ll put Tate’s name on the list. I gotta go.”

And with that, Ricky was gone. A blast of cold air rushed into the house behind him, and then it was just him, his dad, and Tate.

“This calls for a celebration!” his dad declared and spun for the kitchen.

* * *

Vancouver beatColorado 3-2 in overtime. Ricky’s team played a great game, and normally Tate would have been all caught up in the thrill and excitement of a sudden death match, but he’d spent most of the game watching Reno. The way his eyes creased at the edges when he smiled, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he took a swig of his beer, the soft, comforting way his skin felt against Tate’s. The whole night, Reno hadn’t stopped touching him—his hand in Tate’s, or on his thigh, or touching his forearm and biceps. His knee or shoulder pressed against Tate’s. It was as though Reno needed the physical connection as reassurance that Tate was there and not going anywhere.

The wait for the game to end, for Ricky to clear the locker room so they could share congratulations, and for a round of Happy New Year hugs with Reno’s dad, had been excruciating. But now, finally, Tate stood behind Reno with anticipation coursing through his veins and a hand on Reno’s hip as he waited for Reno to get his front door open.

The door gave way, and Tate tumbled inside after Reno.

Tate spun Reno around and claimed his mouth. He kissed him with every ounce of love he held for this man, grateful that Reno had accepted the gift and taken him back. No matter what it took, no matter how long, he would spend the rest of his life proving to Reno that nothing in this world mattered to him more.

“I need you,” Reno gasped between kisses and yanked at Tate’s clothing. “So bad.”

“Reno . . .” was all Tate could manage.

He toed off his shoes at the same time as he divested Reno of his jacket, while Reno followed his lead and did the same in reverse.

“This way.”

Reno led him through his house, but Tate didn’t pay any attention to the surroundings. All he could see was Reno in front of him. The way the hall light painted strands of his hair with gold. The lean, muscular curve of his shoulders and the way his back narrowed to a trim waist. The way his buttocks flexed as he walked. The enticing earthy scent of his skin.

Reno led him into a darkened room and flicked on a lamp that cast the space with a warm yellow glow. The lamp sat on a night table that stood beside a large high-set bed covered with a dark blue duvet.

Reno pulled the nightstand drawer open to reveal condoms and lube and then yanked back the covers on his bed. Tate laughed as Reno gave him a gentle shove onto the bed. Tate tugged Reno up with him, and the last of their clothes found their way to the floor.

Tate rolled them so he was on top of Reno. “How do you want me?”

“I want you like you mean it,” Reno said, his eyes bright and his cheeks and chest flushed. “Like you love me.”

Tate’s heart squeezed in his chest. “I do. More than I can say.”

“Then show me.”

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