Before he reached Donovan’s office, the man stepped out, his eyes tracking every step he took.
“What’s wrong?”
Tate should’ve expected he would think something was wrong. He wasn’t the sort to drop in unannounced or even at all, for that matter.
“Nothing.” He forced a smile as he stared at the sinfully beautiful man wearing charcoal slacks and a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
“This is a nice surprise then.” Donovan’s eyes warmed. “Come in here.”
Tate followed him into the office and waited while Donovan shut the door. He then flipped a switch, causing the glass walls to go from transparent to opaque in the blink of an eye.
Donovan tucked his hands in his pockets and stared down at him.
The man was gorgeous, but like this, he almost looked dangerous—sexy dangerous, though, not mobster dangerous.
Feeling out of sorts, Tate made his way to the black leather couch and sat, keeping to the edge of the cushion.
“I had breakfast with Reilly.”
“Y’all finally come to a decision?”
Tate looked up at him and took a deep breath. “Kinda.”
Donovan walked around the black-lacquered coffee table and perched on the arm of the couch. “I hopekindameans yes because, Tate, I wanna marry you. And I’d like to do it sooner rather than later.”
“And you’re okay with gettin’ married in Vegas?” Skepticism made the words come out harsh, but Tate couldn’t help it. He still didn’t believe Donovan was okay with having a quickie wedding in Vegas rather than something traditional where all his family and friends could attend.
Donovan shifted down onto the cushion, moving closer to Tate.
“Baby, I need only two things to make a wedding perfect.”
Tate swallowed hard. “What’s that?”
“You and someone ordained to perform it, so it’s legal.”
“What about rings?”
One of his notorious sexy smirks tipped the corner of Donovan’s mouth. “I got those before I even asked.”
“You did?”
His expression turned serious. “This isn’t pretend for me, Tate.”
“It’s not pretend for me either,” he said quickly. “I want to marry you.”
Donovan inched closer, gripping Tate’s chin between his finger and thumb. His voice was rife with emotion when he said, “Then let’s get married. Wherever. Whenever.”
“In dinosaur costumes?”
That earned him a look of surprise.
Tate laughed, relaxing somewhat. “I’m kidding.”
Donovan leaned in, his lips hovering over Tate’s. “If costumes are your thing, I’m in.”
Shaking his head adamantly, Tate laughed. “They’re not.”
“You sure?”
