Page 35 of Breakfast Included

“It was Rog I helped with his luggage when I was checking out,” Tate began.

“And he didn’t politely ask the elevator to take us to my floor,” Rog continued. “So of course, it didn’t move, and we were stuck.”

“Because you led us into the haunted elevator!” Tate finished with a laugh and shake of his head.

Reno’s attention ping-ponged between the two as they shared the story that had kept Tate longer, when Reno had believed the worst-case scenario and thought Tate had left him again.

“I had a feeling you two might be back,” Rog said with a note of excitement in his voice. He reached into his messenger bag, pulled out a hardcover book, and laid it on the table between them.

The cover featured a winter scene with a cabin surrounded by snowcapped trees. A setting sun painted the sky with lavenders and pinks above the mountain top, and a silhouetted male couple stood hand in hand, facing the view. The title readThe Whispering Aspenby RH Woolwood.

Reno gasped. He’d read RH Woolwood novels. The author penned beautiful love stories with gay couples, and more than once, Reno had imagined he and Tate were the main characters, finding their way to happily ever after. He looked up at Rog. “This is you!”

Rog nodded, looking pleased with himself. He tapped a finger on the book. “And this is your love story. Highly fictionalized, of course. I had limited time with one of my sources.”

“That’s why you asked so many questions about us,” Tate said with awe.

Rog winked and gestured to the book again. “Read the dedication.”

Tate leaned forward and opened the book. He turned to the dedication page and read aloud.

“For Tate and Reno. Love will always find a way.”

Tate fell silent, eyes downcast as his throat worked. Reno reached out for his hand, laced their fingers, and gave him a squeeze of reassurance. Reno didn’t even know this man, and his own throat was tight with emotion.

“This is a beautiful gift,” Reno said softly.

“Thank you, Rog,” Tate said, his voice hoarse. He lifted his gaze, and his eyes were wet with unshed tears. “I don’t know what to say.”

Rog smiled warmly and placed a hand on Tate’s shoulder. “I expect to see the two of you back here next year. With rings on your fingers.”

With that, Rog offered a slight bow and made his departure.

“We’ll read it together,” Reno said after a long minute. “In bed. Out loud. We can take turns reading it to each other.”

Tate’s smile was crooked, his expression heartfelt. “I would love that.”

“Come on.” Reno put his napkin on the table and stood up. “Let’s take a walk.”

Tate tucked the book from Rog carefully under his jacket, and Reno reached for his hand. They walked along the river path and followed it around the resort grounds as they had the previous year. The snow had stopped, the clouds broke, and the shining sun sparkled on fresh blankets of snow like tiny diamonds. Reno couldn’t imagine a more perfect afternoon to stroll through a winter wonderland. Or a more perfect partner to share it with.

Reno snuck a peek at Tate, who had been quiet since they’d left the restaurant. Whatever he was thinking must have been good because his expression was blissful.

“What?”

Tate startled and turned to him with wide, overly innocent eyes. “What, what?”

Reno grinned. His man was up to something. “You seem lost in thought, and you’re looking at me intently now. I don’t know if I should squirm because I’m in trouble or pull you behind a tree because I’m so turned on.”

Tate’s smile radiated pure love. A smile that always made Reno’s toes curl and stomach flip and heart race.

“I love you,” Tate said, his voice heavy with reverence.

“I love you too.”

Tate glanced over Reno’s shoulder and rocked on his heels. Was he nervous about something?

“Let’s catch a ride,” Tate said and gave Reno’s hand a tug for him to follow.

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