Atlas runs a short finger down a bristly black sideburn. “Don’t make me regret giving you this client, Truelove.”
“So don’t,” she says, straightening her shoulders. She crosses the room to open the sliding glass doors to the terrace. When she pulls one open, the sound of the ocean fills the room. She inhales the calm, the surf and salt. “Keep Moreno yourself.”
That has Atlas frowning. His bravado knocked down two pegs. “Truelove. C’mon.” He takes a step toward her, stubby hands out in a placating gesture. “We both know this job is your first love. You’ve worked so hard these last few years. I hate the thought of you throwing all your hard work away.” A sneer curls his lips. “All for a little sand and sun.”
Atlas runs a finger across a fat stack of coffee table books. “You eat and breathe this shit, Truelove. I know you. You can pick a Pantone color out in the dark, transform a room blindfolded. This job is your life.”
Oh God.
Oh gross.
Tessie deflates like a balloon, only to have an epic hollowness fill her up.
This job is her life. Putting the client first. Coming home to an empty bed. No time for anything but work, never letting herself have any fun. Take risks. Live. Fucking live, which is what, in the end, her mother really wanted her to do.
Find stars. Take risks.
Suddenly, she’s so tired. Exhausted. She sits on the arm of the couch and stares up dully at Atlas.
Taking her silence as acquiescence, he softens his tone. “Listen, I recognize that you need a break, but that will come. Later. Right now, what we need to do is buckle down.”
Liar, she thinks. He has no intention of giving her time off. Not now, not ever.
Her boss lifts a palm in supplication and edges farther into the room. “I brought your sketches. We can sit down together and nail this out. It shouldn’t take too long. One or two days. It won’t be a problem.”
“It most definitely will be a problem.”
The deep rumble has Atlas turning, has Tessie’s heart soaring. Her stomach tightens at the sight of a shirtless Solomon standing in the archway of the bedroom. Sleeves of ink and muscle. His grizzled beard, overprotective stance, and large steel frame the best kind of backup there is.
Atlas chuckles, then he turns his attention back to Tessie. “Been enjoying yourself, I see.”
Fire snaps her spine, snaps her to standing. “I have been, thank you.” Lifting her chin, she crosses her arms, letting them rest on the high arch of her belly.
Stepping close, Solomon drapes a protective arm around her shoulder. Tessie revels at having him by her side. The way he says nothing, doesn’t try to take over, simply letting her know he’s here, that they’re a team, is hot as hell. She sees it in his eyes. He won’t let her fall.
Ignoring Solomon, Atlas sets his man purse on the bar and unsnaps the latch. “Now if you’ll remember what I said about the—”
“Don’t per-my-last-email me, Atlas,” Tessie snaps, sick of his shit. Bear kicks in her stomach like give him hell, mom. “I don’t think you heard me. I. Am. Not. Working.”
Atlas scoffs, a smug sound that has her hackles rising. “Unbelievable. Here’s that Terrible Tess we know and hate.”
Her eyes narrow. Fucking gaslighter.
“That was you?” A dangerous edge stains Solomon’s voice. “You gave her that name?” His eyes flash. His hands pull to fists. “Now we got fucking problems.”
The deep rumble of warning sends a smile to Tessie’s lips. An overprotective Solomon Wilder is a sight she’ll never get enough of.
Tessie sticks an arm out, stopping him before he can move for Atlas.
She’s got this.
“I’m not terrible, Atlas,” she says, taking a step forward, keeping her head held high. “You’re terrible, and I am not taking the shit you give anymore.” She inhales a breath. Steels her nerves. She’ll worry about mistakes later. Because right now, she’s going to worry about her and Bear.
“I quit.”
The words have her lightheaded. Ecstatic.
Atlas gapes at her. Then he shakes his head. “I knew this pregnancy would make you weak.”
A growl from Solomon.
She scoffs. “Fuck you, Atlas. And get the fuck out of my room.” When he stands, frozen in disbelief, she flings an arm. “Go.”
“Now,” Solomon snarls, advancing. His big body a hard stomp of a warning. “Before I toss your ass off that balcony.”
Tessie smirks as her unwanted guest takes a step backward, tripping over his own feet in his haste to dodge Solomon’s combustible glare. Red-faced, Atlas grabs his man purse and stiffly walks out, slamming the door shut behind him.
Tessie stands there in disbelief, nerves and excitement crashing over her like a rogue wave.
Holy shit. She quit. A job she bled for, fought for, screamed at interns for. Well, no more.
“Tess?”
She turns.
Solomon’s there, gripping her elbows to pull her close. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “Surprisingly, I am.” She looks up at his handsome face, creased with concern. “I don’t know what the hell I did, but that wasn’t the right job for us.” She glances down at her belly, smooths a palm around it. “Was it?”
“I’m proud of you.”
Her heart skips a beat. “You are?”
“I am.” A muscle works in Solomon’s jaw and he pulls her another inch closer to him. “I wanted to punch that asshole.”
She laughs. “I did too.”
Solomon cups her face, his eyes gentle blue waters, but steel laces his quiet voice. “He disrespects you like that again, and I will.”
“I’ll let you.”
A feeling of freeness she’s never felt before settles over her shoulders. She’s on vacation. An actual vacation.
“We have to celebrate,” she says, clinging to Solomon’s broad shoulders to bounce on her tiptoes. “Beach all day, lunch at the taco shack, and then we have to—oh.” She sinks back down to her heels, her stomach plummeting, crestfallen, as reality sets in. Her hands fall to her sides. “You leave today.”
Solomon swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Tess, listen. . .”
His face is so intense she draws back.
“What is it?”
“What if we changed our deal?” His voice comes out rough. His blue eyes quickly hardening, piercing hers.
Her breath hitches. Worry flutters in her belly. “Changed our deal?” she echoes. “About Bear?”
“No.” He runs a hand through her hair, cups the back of her neck. “About us.”
“Us?” Suddenly, her knees are weak, and she has to press both palms against Solomon’s broad chest to hold herself up.
“What if I stay for the rest of your vacation? To help you relax?” he asks, his words a strange staccato beat. Like he’s trying to keep it together and failing epically.
“Relax.” She hums. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”
His eyes lock on hers and hold. “For Bear.”
“For Bear.”
She inclines her head, considering his words. As long as Solomon wants to be here for Bear, why should she stop him? Bear’s his son. His offer to change their deal changes nothing between them.
She wets her lips, something warm and soft surging inside her. “Alright then,” she whispers. “Four more days.”
The hard lines of his handsome face soften. “Four more days.”
And then Solomon dips his face to kiss her, his arms locking tight around her like he’ll never let her go.
The thunder of heartbeats, of breath pulsing between them, has every cell in Tessie’s bloodstream lighting up.
She keeps doing unplanned, impromptu things while this mountain man is around, and she kind of likes it.
In fact, she kind of loves it.
Swinging for the fences, taking big risks, winging it.
She’s winging it.
With Solomon Wilder.
“What’s your middle name?”
“Jack.”
“Jack, huh? It fits you.”
“What about you?”
“Anne. Tessie Anne Truelove. Truelove was my mom’s last name.”
Sitting up, best she can, Tessie eyes Solomon. The two of them are piled lazily in a hammock by the beach. “Moment of truth. Favorite color?”
“Green.” His brow wrinkles. “Like a spruce tree.”