Page 70 of Fighting Gravity

Rosie moved forward to shake his hand. “Hey, I’m Rosie. Tate’s…”

“Everything,” he supplied.

Her grin went straight to his gut. He’d fucking kiss her if the boys wouldn’t give them both shit for it.

Malone set the plate on the kitchen table near the door. “I’ll go get another plate. Mom made enough for an army, as usual.”

Maddox dropped Rosie’s hand and flopped into the armchair that mirrored the one that had belonged to his father. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. Tate’s never brought a girl up here before. He’s never brought anyone. Did he tell you that he told us his name was Matt for, like, eight fucking years? You sure about him?”

Tate fished a fork out of a drawer in the kitchen and handed the uncovered plate to Rosie.

She smiled gratefully, eyes on his. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Hello!” Jenn’s cheery voice appeared right before she did. Malone was at her heels, a giant thermos in hand. Jenn carried another plate, which she set on the table.

Tate moaned happily and pulled her into a hug. “I’ve never been happier in my life to see you or coffee.”

She hugged him tightly, and for a long time. Tate felt the lingering forgiveness in the gesture. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Thanks for taking care of my baby. She and the boys said they had a great time at your house working on—”

Tate tried to cut her off with a choking noise. Unfortunately, one look at Rosie’s face told him she’d heard. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t look angry. Her smirk seemed to say,Still with the secrets?They’d finished the tiny home that same weekend and had donated it to a family in Victory.

“We’re going on a field trip later,” he said over Jenn’s head. “By dinner, you’ll know everything.”

Jenn released him and turned to Rosie, who stood from the table. She extended her hand. “I’m Rosie. Thanks so much for breakfast, Mrs. Case.”

“It’s just Jenn, honey.” She pulled Rosie into a hug. “Oh, it’s about time our young man found himself a good woman.” She released Rosie and patted her cheek. She was a full five inches shorter. “You know he’s a good man, don’t you? We’ve known him for almost a decade, regardless of what he said his name was. He’s got such a big heart.”

“I know. I’ve seen it.”

Tate kept his smirk to himself. Rosie hadn’t seen anything yet.

She asked him at least a dozen times where they were going. Her guesses had been terrible: Pike Place Market to see flying fish, the observation deck of the Space Needle, the Amazon Spheres.

“It’s like you think I have no originality,” Tate chided as they drove south past all the famous sights.

She let out a groan. “I can’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“I know where we’re going. Anne let your project slip. She thought I knew. I wanted to let you have your surprise, but I can’t keep up the ruse.”

Tate laughed. “No, I imagine you can’t.”

“You’re not upset?”

“Not at all,” he answered.

“Hearing what you’d done, why you’d been in my office, is partly what inspired me to try again with you. Got me to a mall to buy a dress, anyway.” His heart stopped when she bestowed him one of her melting smiles. “Tate? Thank you for sneaking into my office. Thank you for this secret. And thank you for bringing homes to all these people.”

Tate picked up their linked hands from his thigh and kissed the back of hers. “Let’s go see your project.”

He parked two blocks away from the original Rosy Row. An old car lot transformed. Her smile deepened as they walked on cracked sidewalks past warehouses covered in graffiti. They passed a trapeze gym and a smoke shop and a sports bar with Seahawks stickers blocking the windows.

As soon as they rounded the next corner, she’d see the sign that said,Welcome to Rosy Row. He wondered if Anne had let the name slip, too. He lagged behind, letting her get ahead so she could get an unimpeded view of her dream come to fruition.

Rosie stopped walking. Her gasp gave him life. Tate’s heart soared as he watched her face in profile, witnessing wonder, delight, and gratitude dawn in succession. Her wide eyes took in the different ways people were living their lives in the spaces she’d designed. When tears slid down her cheeks, Tate took her hand again.

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