“Smart-ass.” Subtly, she shook her head, her smile tolerant. “I usually sit in the middle of coach with my knees smashed into the seat in front of me.”
She stretched her legs out, unable to touch the pod in front of her with her toes. Then her smile faded. “It’s too much.”
“Let’s revisit that claim five hours into a nine-and-a-half-hour flight.” He lifted an eyebrow. “You’ll be thanking me for copious legroom and a chair that reclines.”
“And my own TV.” She gestured at the screen in front of her. “And tray table, and—” She lifted a black bag labeled Amenity Kit and held it up to show him.
“Sleep mask, lavender spray and a Casper-brand pillow and fleece blanket.”
She laughed, an effervescent sound, and the tightness in his chest eased. There would be a lot of people and overwhelming circumstances to deal with shortly after they landed at Heathrow, but for right now, he had it easy. With Hayden.
She’d made this trip better already and it hadn’t started yet. Plus, watching her wide eyes gobble up the luxury that had become pedestrian to him was a good reminder of how far he’d come. The dose of confidence and self-assuredness would go a long way when he was a stranger in a strange land... Except it wasn’t a strange land. It was his hometown.
Would that ever sink in?
Hayden was oohing and ahhing over the lavender spray and mentioned again how fluffy the pillow was, and he had to grin.
“You’re easy to spoil, Ms. Green.”
Her cheeks pinked. “I’m acting like a total country mouse, aren’t I?”
“A little, but I’m enjoying it.” He’d never done without. Trips he’d taken with his family had always been in first class or via private flight. Seeing this experience through fresh eyes was damned refreshing. Just like the rest of her.
“I can’t help it. It’s new to me.” She narrowed her eyes in faux suspicion. “Are you making sure I’m not going to back out at the last second? Have you heard all sorts of horrifying secrets about your family? Am I in for the ride of my life?”
“The opposite. Reid gushes over them. And Drew hasn’t met them but she says she’s spent a lot of time on the phone with Reid’s, um, our mother, Jane.” He paused while that soaked in. “Anyway, Drew loves her already, and she hasn’t met her.”
“That’s good news.” Hayden’s encouragement was careful, but Tate had a feeling they’d survive this awkward holiday regardless of what he had to face. At least he wouldn’t be facing it alone.
He appreciated the hell out of her for being here.
It wasn’t something he’d successfully put into words, but he hoped the first-class flight, the trip to London and every last way he planned on worshipping her in the bedroom would say what he couldn’t: That there was no one he’d rather navigate this patch of his life with other than Hayden.
One day at a time.
* * *
Seven hours into the flight Hayden was feeling the fatigue of traveling tenfold. The longest flight she’d been on had been a five-hour flight to Toronto for a yoga conference last year. She could thank that trip for her having a passport.
She’d already been to the bathroom and had moved around to stretch her legs. Even the roomy pod, complete with seat and desk, couldn’t cure her craving for movement. She struck a few poses as best she could from her chair, regardless of who watched. Though, she doubted anyone was paying attention to her or her seated warrior pose. There were only thirty seats in this section of the plane, and she assumed everyone desired privacy first and foremost. It was by far the best way to travel.
She would’ve liked to give Tate at least some money for her travel expenses, no matter how trivial. Yes, they were dating, but this went beyond their agreement to take things as they came. But each time she brought it up, he shook his head denoting the end of the discussion. An hour into their flight she’d tried again and his, “It’s a gift, Hayden, stop asking,” told her she had surpassed insistence and tiptoed into ungratefulness.
She couldn’t help it. Financial arguments had been commonplace in her family’s home especially since her grandmother drank away every dollar she wrapped her fist around, leaving her wellbeing to Hayden’s parents.
Hayden hadn’t grown up with a healthy view of much of anything as a kid. As an adult she’d studied her backside off trying to learn how to save and invest for her future. Since the bulk of care and concern from her mother was lavished on her father and grandmother, Hayden had been on her own.
She’d learned to care for herself, knowing no one else would take care of her. It was the harder path, but at least reliable. It was also the main reason she’d chose to stay unmarried. Trusting herself was easy. Trusting others, not so much.
Tate, reclined in his seat, arms folded over his chest, was asleep. She watched his chest lift and fall and considered how much she’d trusted him already, without realizing she was doing it.
Anyone would assume he was peacefully snoozing except for the furrow in his brow. He was worried about meeting them—his parents. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel if she’d found out she had a whole other family who lived in London.
Relieved, probably, she thought with a bittersweet smile.
Thirteen
When Hayden first laid eyes on Tate’s brother, Reid, she thought, My God, there really are two of them.
They weren’t identical twins, but there was no denying the set of their mouths and—Tate was right—they both made the same gestures when they talked.
In the back seat of Reid’s rental car, she sat next to his fiancée Drew while the guys carried on a conversation up front.
“They’re both so attractive it’s stupefying,” Drew stated. “Don’t you think?”
The question was asked at a near whisper, even though the guys were chattering loud enough that they likely hadn’t overheard.
“It doesn’t take much to stupefy me after that flight,” Hayden joked. The truth, had she been forced to admit it, was that 100 percent of the attraction coming from her was aimed directly at Tate.
“No kidding.” Drew snorted, and like the rest of her, it was darling. “We arrived three days ago, and my body is just now accepting that I’m supposed to be awake.”
“So by the time I’m used to the time change, I’ll be on my way back home.”
“You’re seriously leaving on Boxing Day? Criminal!” Drew clutched her nonexistent pearls. “It is sad that you’re not staying longer, though.”
Hayden felt similarly. She liked Drew, even having only known her for a few minutes. The other woman was both scrappy and easygoing. Hayden didn’t know much about how Drew and Reid got together, except that she was the little sister of one of Reid’s best friends. Hayden would bet there was a story there. She’d have to extract details from Drew over dinner.
“Hey! I heard you’re engaged!” Drew exclaimed.
“Uh...”
“Pretending to be engaged, love,” Reid corrected his fiancée, throwing a wink at her in the rearview mirror. “I told you that.”
“I know. Mind your own business up there, Gorgeous Inc. That’s his new nickname.” Drew pursed her lips. “I guess though, if Reid is the CEO of Gorgeous Inc., Tate has to be, at the very least, COO.” She glanced first at Reid’s profile, then Tate’s. “Stupefying.”
Hayden giggled, but it led to a yawn. She was feeling every hour of their lengthy travel.
“Do you want coffee?” Drew offered, clearly discerning what that yawn was about. “It’s easier to find tea here, but there are a few really good shops that serve both. We stopped by one when we finished Christmas shopping yesterday.”
“Mum is serving tea when we arrive.” Reid said as he drove past pubs and shops downtown. “Can’t rob her of that.”
Tate rubbed his palms down his dark jeans, and Hayden thought she saw his shoulders stiffen. No doubt
the mention of his “mum” had set him on edge.
Reid, consummate entertainer, launched into his tour guide voice and pointed out a few buildings beyond the car’s window.
Drew leaned closer to Hayden, keeping her voice low. “I can’t imagine how difficult this must be for Tate.”
“Yes.”
“And you.” Sincerity swam in the other brunette’s dark gaze. “If you need anyone to talk to while you’re here...about family stuff or girl stuff...or engagement stuff.”
Hayden laughed. “You’re not going to give up on that, are you?”
“Nope.” Drew grinned, seemingly pleased with herself, and pleased in general. She palmed her still-flat, pregnant belly. “I’m just saying, you can’t predict where you’ll end up with these Singleton boys. Right, Gorgeous, Inc.?”
The look Reid sent through the rearview was a smolder if Hayden had ever seen one. And when Tate peeked over his shoulder at her, that look held a certain smolder for her as well.
Those Singleton boys, indeed.
* * *
Tate took in the rows of houses they drove past, most tightly packed in next to each other. Having not been here past the age of three, he had no recollection of the area. Nothing looked familiar and the foreignness only made him long for his parents’ home in California. His chest grew tight. He’d never been a homesick kid, but he felt that way now.
The cocktail of excitement and nerves over meeting the man and woman who’d created him had been shaken, stirred and then thrown into a blender for good measure. He’d had a million silent discussions with himself on the flight over about expectations, reasoning that this meeting didn’t have to be anything more than cordial. But it was hard not to have expectations when Reid went on and on about their parents. He meant well, but it’d almost been too much to absorb for Tate.
“They’re getting on well,” Reid said. “We’ll have to keep an eye on that, brother, in case they decide to team up on us.”
Reid pulled into a long asphalt driveway flanked by short, decorative stone pillars. “Here we are.”
The Singleton house was in Berkshire, about half an hour from the airport, and sat on three acres of land which backed up to the very wooded area Tate had been dragged to when he was a toddler.
He repressed a shudder.
“Mum’s bloody gorgeous, by the way.” Reid smirked, proud. “She was a fashion model in her twenties, not that she looks a day past thirty-seven.” He threw the car into Park and faced Tate. “Mate. Welcome home.” Then Reid lightened the heavy sentiment with, “I’ve already warned Mum not to smother you. You’re welcome.”
Tate had to hand it to his brother—Reid hadn’t acted as if this was strange for a while now. Ironically, that made this entirely strange situation easier to accept.
As the four of them climbed from the car and approached the house, the dark wood front door with iron handles swung open.
He’d seen photos of Jane and George, but nothing could have prepared him for seeing his birth parents in the flesh for the first time in decades.
“Silver fox, am I right?” Drew murmured under her breath to Hayden. “His mom’s hot, too.”
Hayden replied, but Tate couldn’t hear anything save the blood rushing past his eardrums. His poised mother was stationed at the threshold, dressed in white slacks and a cowl-necked gray sweater. She held on to Tate’s father, who wore a casual suit and looked much younger than his stately name implied. Jane’s hair was stylishly gray, but George’s maintained most of its dark brown with only a feathering of gray at the temples.
Tate took in every detail of the pair as he walked on stiff legs. Reid mentioned the traffic going easy before gently gripping his—their—mother’s shoulders and guiding her inside. Before Tate stepped over the threshold, he felt Hayden’s hand in his.
“Piece of cake,” she whispered, looking beautiful but jet-lagged. Tate might be in unfamiliar territory but she’d become familiar. He would be here, facing this moment alone, if it wasn’t for her.
He squeezed her fingers with his, unable to tell her what it meant to him that she was here, but hoping she knew anyway. Her tired wink suggested she might.
He’d make sure she had time to rest during the next few days. He pulled her to walk beside him and stole a kiss before following everyone inside. Reid led his mother into the entryway and then stood next to Drew.
George offered Tate a palm, the first to break the invisible wall between them. Looking into his father’s face was like seeing someone you thought you might know but couldn’t remember from where. Tate gripped George’s hand.
“Good handshake, son. I’m your father, George Singleton. This is your mother, Jane.” He cupped his wife’s shoulder as she began to cry. Pretty at first, her high cheekbones and full lips barely shifting from their neutral positions, but a moment later, tears fell and that perfect bone structure seemed to dissolve.
Her outstretched arms shook when she reached for Tate. “Please, may I?” Her voice was broken, and Tate wasn’t far behind, nodding his acceptance as tears blurred his vision.
He held his mother, expecting awkwardness, but it never came. Odd as it was to feel a connection with her, he did. The same way he’d felt it with Reid since the first moment he saw him in that coffee shop. As if a connection deep in his soul had been forged eons ago.
“Oh, my Wesley,” she murmured repeatedly as she held on to him. “My sweet Wesley.” She must have felt his arms go rigid, because she abruptly pulled away and corrected herself. “Tate. Tate is your name.”
“They’re both my names.” He’d come to accept that recently. Easier now that the woman who’d carried him in her womb was standing in the circle of his arms.
Jane embraced him again, holding on for a long moment. A few other sniffs sounded in the room—from the direction of Drew and Hayden if Tate wasn’t mistaken.
Jane let go of Tate, nodding with finality, her tears no longer falling. “One thing’s for certain,” she said as she studied his face. “You’re much better looking than your brother.”
“Hey!” Reid protested. The rest of them laughed and the tension that had built receded some.
It was really good to laugh.
“All right, then. Tea.” Jane clapped her hands and led them farther into the house. Rich, caramel brown floors matched the doorframes and windowsills, and the walls were painted a soft white. The color palette was mostly burgundies and pine greens, and everywhere Tate looked was a reminder of nature. Like my house, he thought as he admired a piece of petrified wood in a slightly misshapen hand-thrown clay bowl.
“I made it. It’s rubbish,” Jane said of the bowl, bypassing it to walk to a cart in the corner of the room.
“So’s what’s in it,” George agreed, his tone teasing. “A stick that’s turned into a rock.”
“Tate has petrified wood in his house,” Hayden said, meeting his eyes and then Jane’s. “You two have that in common.” She stroked his arm with a hand as they lowered onto a jewel-toned settee, but then rose a moment later to help his mother serve.
“...lucky to have such a caring fiancée,” Tate heard his mother say.
Hayden shot a quick glance to Tate, her expression no doubt matching his own. She recovered smoothly, flashing his mother a grin and offering a generic, polite response. “Thank you, Jane. I’m happy to help.”
“I hear you own a nature preserve,” George said, drawing Tate’s attention from his fake fiancée.
Hayden handed Tate a cup of tea and sat with him and he renewed the promise he’d made to himself on the trip over. He was definitely making time to show Hayden his appreciation later.
Fourteen
“Your parents are sort of incredible.” Hayden unpacked her suitcase, stashing her clothes in the dresser in the guest bedroom.
On that count, Tate had to agree. The weirdest par
t about meeting them was that they no longer felt like strangers. They’d discussed Spright Island, Jane and George both eager to hear of Tate’s success with the community. Jane abashedly admitted that she’d “Googled it” and was “quite impressed.”
He’d always been proud of the work he’d done there. The wellness community was his passion, but also his legacy. He’d never thought much about having a family of his own, always focusing instead on work. Claire had been equally focused on her career and stated she’d never wanted to have children. After having met the members of his actual family tree, though, Tate had briefly entertained the idea of having a family of his own. He supposed that was inevitable considering the circumstances.
Hayden hid her suitcase in the closet, yawning as she shut the bedroom door. He wondered if she wanted children. She’d never mentioned it before, but given the hints that her family was rife with conflict, maybe she didn’t. It wasn’t the kind of discussion two people having a day-to-day affair would have, but he couldn’t stop the vision of a little boy with dark hair and his blue eyes. Or twins.
“Jesus.” He pulled a hand down his face to staunch the thoughts.
“I know. I’m tired, too.” Hayden yawned again and he was glad she’d assumed he was tired rather than considering her potentially bearing his children. Maybe he could blame fatigue on his thoughts. They certainly weren’t par for course.
Is any of this?
“Why don’t you stay up here and rest.” The guest room was hidden away at the back of the upstairs hallway, and he knew his parents wouldn’t mind Hayden not showing for cocktail hour. Besides, it’d been George that had had invited Tate and Reid for brandy. Pregnant Drew had begged off to bed and his mother told Tate she’d happily join Hayden for a nip, but only if Hayden wasn’t too tired. “Jane meant what she said when she told you to do what you like.”
Hayden tilted her head and studied him, a spark of interest in her eyes despite the fatigue. “Do you think you’ll ever be comfortable calling her Mom? Or Mum, as Reid calls her?”
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