Page 8 of Breakfast Included

He made a quick run to the bathroom—which was accessed through Tate’s bedroom. Reno tried not to look, but his gaze was drawn to the unmade bed that sat in the center. It was big and comfortable-looking, and the imprint of Tate’s body on the mattress and pillow sent a shiver of longing through Reno. He pressed his lips together and dragged his eyes away as he rushed into the bathroom, the whole time trying not to think about Tate in there, naked in the shower, and touching things Tate had touched. He looked at himself in the mirror and shook his head.

“It’s like you’re sixteen all over again,” he whispered to his reflection.

With a huff and another shake of his head, he returned to the couch where he very deliberately sat far enough from Tate that he wouldn’t brush up against all that milky, naked skin. Could the man not put a shirt on while they ate?

“Thank you for this,” he said after taking a sip of perfectly brewed fresh coffee.

“Anytime,” Tate said nonchalantly, as though he didn’t realize the implication of “anytime”.

There wouldn’t be a second time.

Reno picked up his fork and shoveled a mouthful of omelet into his mouth so he didn’t have to speak, but . . .

“Oh my god.” He groaned. “This issogood.”

Tate only nodded at him, and a grin tugged at his lips as he chewed.

The man’s smile was going to kill him. Reno frowned as he ate. He wasn’t impressed that he’d been stranded at the resort overnight and had agreed to stay with Tate, but part of him couldn’t deny how happy he was at getting to spend that time with him.

Not that anything would come of it, but the man was still as mouthwateringly hot as ever. More so now that he was all grown up and filled out and so damn smart. God, he loved an intelligent man. But even living in the same city, basically, they had never run into each other. Which meant their lives were much too different to align. Running into Tate now didn’t mean they were fated to be together from here on out. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t make the best of it and live out a little of his lifelong fantasy where Tate Boylan was concerned.

Except the road had surely been cleared by now, so he needed to pack his fantasies away and get a move on back to real life.

“Figured we may as well make the best of the situation,” Tate said casually, as though he’d read Reno’s mind.

Reno flushed and scrambled for any topic to change the direction of his thoughts.

“Do you make breakfast for all the boys?” he quipped and then immediately wished he could take the words back. He stared at his meal like it was the most amazing thing on the planet while fighting the urge to squirm. Even without looking, he felt the heavy weight of Tate’s gaze on him as the silence stretched.

“Only the ones I like,” Tate said softly with a smile in his voice.

Reno looked over at him. Tate’s hazel eyes shone bright with delight and trapped him in their depths. Reno dropped his gaze to Tate’s bare torso and licked his lips. Tate had twisted slightly toward him, and his gaze was drawn to Tate’s toned muscles and pecs, dusted with a soft pelt of red fur. Reno’s fingers itched to tangle in those fine hairs.

Had Tate moved closer? Reno swallowed and promptly choked.

“Shit. Sorry.” Tate patted his hand against Reno’s back.

“I’m fine,” Reno croaked and held a hand up. “Thank you.”

He didn’t look at Tate again but could feel his gaze lingering on him a moment before he turned back to finishing his own meal. His back tingled with the memory of Tate’s hand touching him, and he imagined what it would feel like if he hadn’t had the layer of his T-shirt between their skin.

“We should head over to the hotel and see what the status on the road is,” Reno said when they were done and the dishes washed and put away. That was what he needed to focus on, not reviving his teenage crush.

Tate nodded. “Sure,” he said, but his voice sounded distant.

Reno gasped when he stepped outside a few minutes later, taking in the scene before him. It had been dark when they arrived at the cabin the night before. The dim pathway lights only reached a few feet into the night and caught on nearby snow-flocked trees. But in the light of day, the view that greeted him was breathtaking. He could only imagine how much more incredible it would have been if the skies were clear blue and the sun’s rays were highlighting the treetops.

The snow was falling lightly, and the evergreens that surrounded the cabins were loaded down with fresh snow. It looked like a living postcard. But what really froze Reno in his tracks was the slow-moving river that meandered not too far away behind Tate’s cabin. Water-smoothed boulders poked above the surface and were capped in thick white blankets. Ice spread out a good two or three feet from the banks, and a small set of critter tracks zigzagged off toward the woods. The water was so clear he could see the rocks below the surface, where the ice hadn’t hidden the depths from view.

“I know, right,” Tate said at his side with reverence in his voice andfinallyfully dressed.

“I had no idea the cabins back here were so picturesque,” Reno replied, awestruck.

“Maybe we’ll come back here someday.”

If only. . . Reno didn’t know how to respond to that. After today, after he returned home, he doubted he’d ever see Tate again. His throat tightened mysteriously, and he turned toward the recently shoveled path that led back to the hotel.

“Let’s go see what the update is,” Reno said, his voice sounding rough around the edges.

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