Solomon frowns, tracing a line down her arm. “Damn. I’m sorry, Tess.”
“It’s fine. He didn’t want my mom, and he didn’t want me.” She burrows into his large body, letting the faint strains of “I Saw the Light” chase away the pressure building behind her eyes. “We were better off without him.”
The frown hasn’t left Solomon’s face, the wheels in his brain turning. “Your mom raised you alone.”
“That’s right.” She nods. “She was a single mother, and she rocked that. She really did. Never missed a spelling bee. Or a recital. We always had enough money. I don’t know how, but we did. She always took care of me. I always felt safe. I want to do that for Bear.”
“You will.”
“You’re so certain.” She cups his unruly beard. “So solemn.”
He smiles, a small smile, but it softens his gruff demeanor. She likes them both. The soft Solomon and the hard. Because with him, either way, she feels safe.
He’s quiet, listening. Waiting.
Tessie blows out a breath, pushing past the pit in her stomach. Even all these years later, it’s not easy to talk about. But she wants to learn, to practice, so she can tell her son about one of the best people in the world. “My mom died when I was seventeen. Right before I went to college. She had breast cancer. She didn’t catch it until it was advanced. One day, she was there, and then she was gone. It happened so fast. Sometimes I think she held on until I went to college so she knew I was set, and then she felt she could move on. Is that stupid?”
“No. That’s not stupid.” He strokes her hair. “Earlier today. . .” Solomon’s body has gone still. “Is that why you said you’re afraid to leave Bear?”
She swallows, her eyes burning. “The last words my mom said to me were I’ll always be here. And then she wasn’t. She left me. It’s not her fault but. . .” A tear drips down her cheek, and Solomon’s powerful arms tighten around her, banding her to him. “I just love him so much. What if something happens to him? What if something happens to me?”
He kisses her hair, his reassuring rumble vibrating through her. There’s a tenseness to his body she can’t puzzle out. “Nothing will happen to you, Tessie. I won’t let it.”
For some reason, his words soothe her.
For some reason, she believes them.
“Your tattoos.” Attention drifting, wanting to get away from the sad subject, Tessie dances her fingers up a mountaintop strikingly etched on his massive bicep. Dark crows over soft snow-white peaks. With a nail, she traces his colorful ink and the veins in his arms. “Is this Chinook?”
“Yeah.” His voice takes on a proud tone. “Alpine mountains. There’s a ridge right behind my cabin. We have everything. Ocean, beach, glaciers.” He chuckles. “A paved road.”
She snuggles against his shoulder. Her slender fingers curl into his dark chest hair. She loves that this serious, stern mountain man literally wears his heart on his sleeve. “Mmm. Sounds pretty.”
“It is. I want to take Bear to Chinook.” He looks at her close and amends his statement. “One day.”
“You can,” she says, slowly considering it. She sighs, reality settling on her like a lead weight. “We still have a lot to talk about before you go.”
A harsh hitch of Solomon’s breath, and when she glances up, that muscle’s ticking in his jaw again.
Go.
A tumbleweed rolls in her stomach. One more day, and he’s gone. But that’s what she wanted, right? To figure this out, send him on his way, then enjoy the rest of her vacation in peace.
And when he goes—she’ll what?
Be alone.
It’s better this way. To not get attached.
A soft ping draws her attention. She groans as her phone’s hit by a blast of light.
Atlas.
Perfect fucking timing, asshole.
She pushes against his chest, ready to roll out of his protective grasp, but he snags her wrist. “You’re not getting that.”
She looks up into his eyes, soft but intense.
“You need to rest,” he orders. “It can wait.”
She drops her hand. “Okay.” She likes being bossed around by Solomon. There’s something primal about it.
Not dropping her gaze, he says, “We’ll figure it out. Your job and Bear.”
“We will?” she whispers, trying to ignore the hard thump of her heart at the way he makes it their problem.
He runs a thumb across her cheekbone. “We will.”
A knock on the door has Solomon leaving the bed, shrugging on a robe that barely fits his massive frame.
Tessie watches him go, a warmth churning in her stomach.
It’s only six. Early. But God. Lounging in bed naked, watching the sunset with the roar of the ocean in her ears, ready to have a room service feast is the most decadent thing she’s ever experienced.
She eyes her shredded dress in the corner of the room and presses fingertips to the smile that ghosts her lips.
She owes everything to that dress.
He doesn’t hear her. Or feel her.
Serena.
Only it’s not Serena.
It’s Tessie.
Tessie.
Solomon wakes with a jolt, his heart pounding. The bedroom is cast in dim gray light, that weird place that exists in the margins of time, telling him it’s not yet morning, not yet night.
Beside him, rumpled sheets. An empty bed.
Groaning, he roughs a hand over his beard.
God damnit. It’s the second time she’s done that. Snuck out on him.
Disappeared.
Left.
Fear comes, creeping, running the length of his spine like a ghost.
A fear he dealt with after Serena died. That he didn’t do enough. That it’s his fault. He was the stubborn asshole who let her walk off after their fight.
He was supposed to protect her, and he failed.
He lost her.
After she died, everything bad crept in. Loneliness. Guilt. Fear.
It was why he moved to the cabin. He thought he could hide from the past. Because he couldn’t stomach the memories, the road where it happened, that road he had to pass every damn day. So he got a dog, bought a punching bag, grew out his beard, drank bourbon by the bottle. Trying to find his way out of his pain. Shutting down. Shutting off. Woodworking. Worrying about his sisters and his parents. Hell, even Howler. Guy was going to get shanked by a one-night stand one of these days.
It’s been his crutch—worry.
And now Tessie.
This girl, the baby she’s carrying, trigger his protective instincts. Give him a whole new set of worries.
From the bed, he can see the light in the living room. Tessie’s up.
A strange need-her-beside-him feeling wiggles its way into his bones. Made even stronger by their earlier conversation. Tessie’s story about her mother, her worry about their son, the forlorn hurt in her voice when she told him about her father. He gets it. She was hurt. She burns because she’s afraid to get burned.
There are so many layers to her. The little glimpses she keeps letting him see—he feels honored and sucker punched at the same damn time.
Fuck her father. Some sorry sonofabitch walking away from his own daughter—he doesn’t deserve her.
Solomon shakes his head. He can’t figure out what happens next. Why being with Tessie does something to him. She’s in his bloodstream. A shot of sunlight waking him up.
Sleeping beside her, being with her tonight. . .he doesn’t regret it.
Teeth gritted, he exhales and swings his feet off the bed, pulling in a deep breath to steady his pulse. He runs a hand through his hair, glances at the clock.
Three a.m.
Christ.
If she’s working. . .
He tugs on gray sweatpants and storms into the living room, only to find Tessie sitting cross-legged on the couch. A bottle of coconut oil beside her, her gaze on the open terrace doors.
Beautiful. So goddamn beautiful.
Stop. Stop looking at her like she’s yours.
But why not, Solomon? Why can’t she be?
“Hey,” he says, squinting against the light. “Everything okay?”