She blinks. “Yes. Wait! We’ll start with the crab cakes,” she blurts before the young man can disappear. Before she can wither away from famishment. She is not meant to go this long without eating. Rubbing her stomach, she sends a silent apology to Bear as the server strides away.
Impressed, Tessie looks at Solomon. “You know your drinks.”
“I do.”
She pulls her shoulders back, resisting the urge to roll her eyes for the second time tonight. Is everything about him a grunt? Is this how he communicates? In monosyllabic sentences? “Well,” she drawls, lifting a brow. “How do you know your drinks?”
Another grunt. God, it’s like trying to drag a confession out of a death row inmate.
Shifting in his seat, the mountain of a man clears his throat. “A buddy of mine and I—we own a bar.”
“Really?” She tilts her head, trying to imagine a bar in Alaska. Igloos. Icebergs. Whale blubber. “That’s. . . cool. You’re a bartender?”
“A chef.” A muscle twitches in his bearded jaw, his cool blue eyes dropping to his plate. “I was.”
She frowns. “You don’t cook anymore?”
“No. I don’t.”
Shame. She takes in his colorful tattoos. His hands. Broad and callused, big as bear paws, they look like they could do some damage in the kitchen.
And in the bedroom.
Nope. Nope. Not going there. Went there once, not again.
Flushing, Tessie takes a sip of her water to chase away the inappropriate thoughts. “What do you do?” she asks. “You have a job, right?”
Not that she wants his money, but it would do wonders for her self-esteem if her baby’s daddy were employed.
“I make furniture. Sell it when I can.”
“What else do you do in Alaska?”
Solomon pauses at the appearance of the server. Once the drinks are set down, colorful mocktails in coupe glasses, he sits silent. That’s when Tessie realizes he’s waiting for her to take the first sip.
So she does.
“Mmm,” she says. Light and refreshing on her tongue. “It’s perfect.”
It is. Just enough to make her feel fancy. Feel normal.
Solomon dips his chin, that beard twitching again. He seems pleased with her answer and lifts his own glass to his lips. Tessie has to smother a giggle at the sight of this burly, bearded mountain man lifting a flashy drink like it’s no big deal.
“So, in Alaska,” he says, picking up the dropped conversation, “I fish. Hunt.”
“You eat meat?”
“Christ.” He sets his drink down, his handsome face pained. “Are you a vegetarian?”
“Only on a full moon after sacrificing a virgin.”
He blinks.
“I’m joking.” She gives him a teasing smile. Propping her elbows on the table, she rests her chin in her hands and evaluates him. “You’re a very solemn man, you know.”
Some of the tension leaves his expression. A smile, faint but real, tugs at the corner of his lips. The burn of his dark blue eyes on hers has her stomach taking a tumble. Has her mind flashing back to the Bear’s Ear bar. Solomon, handsome, too damn handsome, the way he listened, showed her the stars. His strong yet gentle hands over her body, a drunk, desperate need arcing between them as they crashed through that motel room door.
Only tonight, there’s something different about him.
She squints. He’s like a strange frowning zodiac cipher she can’t puzzle out. Every six-foot-four, glowering, broad-shouldered piece of him. She’s curious. A part of her wants to keep digging. This is her child’s father. She should know him. And yet. . .
Another part of her doesn’t want to get to know Solomon Wilder.
Sure, they shared one night. . .one perfect, glorious night, and now they share a kid. But more than that? Off the table. Getting close, getting attached, getting sentimental? It’s not in her cards. All her energy needs to stay focused on how to keep her life together. How to be a good mother to her son. The last thing she needs is a man to mess things up.
And that’s when she sees it. What’s different.
“Your ring,” she blurts.
He flinches.
A heartbeat of silence.
“You took your ring off,” she says again. Softer now.
A tight nod. The words wrench from his mouth. “I did.”
“New girlfriend?” Tessie tries for nonchalance. Though she shouldn’t care. Shouldn’t be holding her breath waiting for his answer.
“No. No new girlfriend.” Pain creasing his features, he opens his mouth, then snaps it shut just as abruptly as the server appears with the appetizer. They place their orders, the table falling into an awkward quiet with the disappearance of the server.
“So there’s. . .no one?”
Silence.
Tessie stares down at her stomach, biting her lip, wanting to apologize, to search for something innocuous to say, to shake away the relief that’s suddenly hit her heart.
Noted. Dead wife. Sore subject.
A grumble from Solomon.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, scooping up a flaky piece of crab.
“I can’t even see my food,” he grumps, poking at a crab cake.
“Here,” she says, grabbing up her phone to turn on the flashlight.
He winces at the bright blast of the light. “Jesus. Do you have to do that?”
“Well, you wanted to see it,” she argues, then sits back in her chair with a frown.
Screw small talk and Solomon’s surly attitude. It’s time to get down to business. Time to get this over with. Time to feel this man out before she agrees to anything regarding their son.
“Let’s talk about Bear,” she announces, chin held high.
Solomon glances up, looking surprised.
She waves her fork, swallowing a pillowy lump of crab. “That’s why we’re here, right?”
“Right.”
“I have one question for you.”
“Ask away.”
“What if you get cold feet one day and try to leave?”
“I won’t.”
“People leave, Solomon.”
“I’m aware of that,” comes his gruff response, “but I won’t.”
She regards him for a long moment, gauging his truth. How can she believe him?
Her own father hadn’t wanted her. He walked out, left her and her mother when Tessie was two years old. Like they were bags of trash on the highway. She barely remembers him. The scent of cigarettes. Crinkled brown eyes like they’d been sandblasted by the desert.
He had a wife. He had a child, a daughter. And he still left.
Even people with ties break them.
Which is why she’s wary of Solomon. If Bear’s father plans to walk away one day, he better do it now, because he won’t get another chance.
“I have a question for you.” Solomon jerks his bearded chin at her. “Where do you plan to raise Bear? In that apartment?”
She scoffs at the distaste on his face. Her home isn’t much, but being insulted by a man who wears flannel to the beach is rich. “I would. And where do you live? A cave?”
“A cabin.”
“Let me guess. In the woods?”
A muscle flexes in his bearded jaw. “That’s right.”
“Well,” she says, spearing another bite, “if you want to be involved in his life, you’ll have to make time to come to LA.”
“What about Alaska?” he counters.
“I have a job. I can’t leave.” She stabs a hunk of crab. Solomon’s sits untouched. “I have everything planned.” She ticks a list off on her fingers. “Hospital birth at Cedars-Sinai. Nursery colors, dolphin fin and banana. His name—”
Solomon’s fork clatters to the table, his face pinched like his crab has gone bad. “Name?”
“No.” She flattens her lips. “I’m not telling you.”
His hard gaze is an interrogation spotlight. “Tessie.”
She bristles, suddenly defensive.
Her life. Her baby. Her sanity.
Letting someone else in to bulldoze her best-laid plans? Absolutely not. She won’t allow it. She’s trying to figure out how to do this working mother thing, and now this grumpy mountain man is here making all these demands, throwing a wrench in her life, stressing her out. This is her world, and it doesn’t include a burly lumberjack throwing her off balance.
“You haven’t been around. Don’t blame me for making plans.”
He rips a hand through his hair. Murderous energy wafts off him, blue eyes lit with anger. “I haven’t been around because I didn’t goddamn know.”
“Well, I didn’t know where to find you,” she flings back.
They stare at each other until the server appears.