The best sex of her life showed her the hallelujah light. Showed her the why the hell is she working on vacation? light. Showed her the Atlas needs to be flung from a very high cliff light.
Was she nervous sending the email? Of course. It’s like detonating an atom bomb on her life.
But Solomon is right. It’s what Ash has been trying to tell her. She can’t go on like this. And now is the time to put her foot down.
And if Atlas dares fuck with her, she’ll send the LA Times a lengthy manifesto about one of LA’s most famous design firms firing a pregnant woman.
A rumble from Solomon. “No phone. No work.” His blue-eyed gaze is so fierce she doesn’t dare argue with him, or else her phone will be in the ocean. “Just you and me.”
“And Bear,” she adds breathlessly.
“And Bear.”
His handsome face softens, has Tessie already regretting her no-more-kissing vow.
Straightening up, she sips her coffee and inhales a determined breath. “Now that that’s done,” she begins, determined to do this. Determined to work together for their kid. “You ready to talk about Bear?”
Solomon’s eyes get dark and dusky. “Ready.”
“Okay. Go with me on this. Obviously, we’ll have to figure things out as we go, but. . . we don’t have to complicate things. You go back to Alaska. I go back to LA. I have the baby. He lives with me in LA.” She watches Solomon’s face for any kind of disagreement, but there is none. Hard to read. Just like the man himself.
“When I travel for work, you could come out and stay with him. And when he’s older. . .you could take him back to Chinook.” Though it pains her to give up Bear for even the tiniest morsel of time, Solomon’s his father. She won’t and can’t take that away from him. “You can come out to see him whenever you want. I won’t ever stop you from seeing him. We share birthdays and holidays. Switch off.”
She glances up as the server sets their food on the table. Platefuls of eggs and hash browns and fruit and chocolate croissants.
“I only have one condition.”
His brows draw together. “Name it.”
“You can’t come and go,” she says resolutely. It’s her deal breaker. “You can’t stop calling, miss birthdays, or go MIA and then show up one day unannounced.” She juts her chin. “You’re either in his life or out. You have to pick one.”
The man stares. The muscles in his jaw and throat work. And Tessie waits. Waits for him to walk away, to say it’s too hard, hell, to get up and leave.
Instead, after a long silence, he nods. “I’m in. I’m in it for the long haul.”
His words have her shivering. The look on his face. So damn intense.
God, if it’s true. . .
Beneath the table, she cups her stomach. Her son could have everything she never had. It means so much.
It means Solomon Wilder’s a good man.
And she’s never had a good man before.
Ugh. Why does he have to be such a good guy? It has her on edge. Jumpy like a squirrelly Chihuahua that doesn’t know what’s stomping its way. Because she keeps expecting him to leave like her father. Like all the losers she’s dated.
She wonders, what would it take to make this man walk away?
What would it take to make him stay?
Stay for Bear, she reminds herself.
His son.
Not her.
“When he’s born,” Solomon says, breaking the momentary spell her thoughts had put on her. “I’d like to be there.”
She nearly spills her coffee. God. Oh God. Imagining Solomon Wilder on the receiving end of labor, watching her bearing down on a hard exam table, has her breaking out in a cold sweat.
Mouth agape, she sets her coffee on the table. Picks up a fork. “Really? You do?”
“You’ll need help, right? When you bring him home?”
“How come you know so much about babies?”
“My sisters,” he says, cracking a rare smile. “I was the oldest. Saw how my parents scrambled to survive every time they brought a new baby home. They weren’t exactly easy. Evelyn especially.”
Tessie keeps a straight face, trying to shake off the girly, warm feeling that’s settled down below. Indigestion, she tells herself. She’s sick. She drank the water. Only in Mexico, right?
Scooping up a forkful of eggs, she floats him a teasing smile. “It could happen fast, though. You might not make it.”
“I’ll make it.”
“Okay,” she breathes, and the two of them share a smile. “If you want.”
“I do,” Solomon says with a stern nod. “I’ll be there, Tessie.”
“I’m glad you want to be in his life,” she admits. “That’s a good thing. Really. I just. . .why? Why are you doing this? Sticking around?” She can’t help the question. She props her chin in her palm and considers him. “You don’t have to. You could go back to Chinook, easy and free.”
Brow furrowed, he locks his piercing blue eyes on her face and doesn’t let go. “I don’t walk away from things that are mine.”
“Oh.” A soft, uneven exhale. “I see.”
Her entire body’s a tremor. A warm pulse down below. A sudden image of Solomon cradling their son in his burly arms pops into her head, and Tessie goes molten.
After stomping down her gooey feelings in a box labeled Ignore Them, she decides to focus on eating. A safe, neutral, non-horny activity. As she’s about to bring her fork to her mouth, Solomon launches out of his chair. He grabs her wrist, sending her fork clattering to the plate, the eggs slipping off to the tablecloth.
Diners rubberneck, the buffet line squeals to a halt.
“Solomon, what—” Tessie gapes at him. His face. She’s never seen a face like that. Pissed off. So damn pissed off.
“Don’t eat that,” he says softly, letting her wrist loose. “The eggs are raw.”
Tessie examines the food on her plate, her stomach lurching. Oh God. He’s right. The eggs are slimy and runny, straight out of the shell.
Then Solomon’s scooping up her plate. The ground thunders beneath his feet as he storms over to their server.
“Listen. I know it isn’t on you.” He nods, regarding Tess. Though his voice is calm, it’s laced with a hard edge of anger. “But you tell the chef that the next time you serve something like this, to anyone, especially a pregnant woman, you make sure it’s fucking cooked.”
The server stammers out an apology and bustles off, plate in his hands.
“Are you okay?” Solomon asks, coming back to the table. He settles across from her again, searching her face.
“I’m fine. I’m just—” Her voice shakes out in a wobble. “That scared me.”
“I know,” he says hoarsely. “Me too.”
She examines him curiously. “How’d you know that? About the eggs?” It has her sick to her stomach thinking about what could have happened. The bacteria could have sent her and Bear to the hospital.
“I downloaded that app,” Solomon grumbles, looking none too happy about admitting it. Rolling out his broad shoulders, he runs a hand down his dark beard. “Read some of it while you were working yesterday.” His blue eyes burn bright. “They shouldn’t serve raw eggs to anyone. Especially you.”
“Oh,” she says, stunned. Heart thundering away in her chest, she presses a hand to her stomach to quiet the butterflies. She loves that he cares. That he’s taken the time to download and research. It says a lot about him as a man. A partner.
Because they are partners.
When it comes to their son.
“I suppose you could cook me something better, Solemn Man,” she teases, wanting to wipe that wild, worried look off his face.
He arches a confident brow. “I would.” Interest lights his expression. “What are you craving?”
“Chocolate. All the chocolate. And hot sauce.”
“Hot sauce, huh?”
“Potatoes with salt. Chicken sandwiches with pickles. Oh God, I’m drooling. Am I drooling?” Her laugh echoes around the restaurant. “Sounds like you should get in the kitchen, Solemn Man.”
A muscle jumps in that chiseled square jaw of his. “Sounds like I should.”
Suddenly, Tessie’s hit by an urge to know more about Solomon Wilder. She wants to be in his kitchen, watching his massive hands work, watching him whip up gorgeous dishes that can feed her and Bear.
His gaze falls to hers, watchful. “Here. Have mine,” he says, pushing his breakfast plate forward. “You’re hungry.”