“Okay, then. Tonight, we stay in,” she says, nodding decisively. “Tomorrow, we go out.”
A grunt of affirmation. Then he links his fingers with hers, and Tessie stretches along the warm solidness of his hard body. Like they’re growing roots, reaching for the stars. Like they’re living for just one more breath. Like everything that’s precious to her is contained in this hammock. This nine-by-twelve cocoon-like space of comfort and joy.
She wants to remember this moment. This perfect heartbeat in time. Her and Solomon and Bear.
“Solomon,” she says, lifting herself up on her elbow. The hammock wobbles. “I want to take a photo.” She smiles. “Documentation to prove I got you on a beach.”
His throat works. “Sure. Why not.”
Reaching behind her, she snags her phone. Her arms shoot up to the sky, the camera pointing down at them. Tessie, bright and sunny. Solomon, dark and brooding. The tiny baby in her swollen belly, stuck perfect and right between them.
“Did you get the photo?” Solomon asks the next evening as he steps out onto the terrace to watch the beach come alive. In the distance, faint strains of music. The lights of the pavilion lightsaber the sky, signaling the beginning of the event to come.
“We got it,” his dad says, voice tinny over the speakerphone.
With a sigh, he rests his hip against the railing. If Tessie’s ballsy enough to quit her job, then he can call the family he’s been screening since he arrived in Mexico.
“So you’re staying,” Evelyn says, her voice flat and dry.
“You’re smiling,” Jo pipes in.
“You’re smiling a lot,” Melody adds. Ten years younger than Solomon, Melody’s the baby of the family. “Oodles and oodles of smiling.”
Solomon rubs his brow. Christ. He sends his middle sister Jo the photo of him and Tessie on the beach, and it’s passed around the family like news down the AP Wire. He swears under his breath, picturing his entire family, minus Evelyn, crowded around the kitchen island, the cell phone passed between them. It’s the way of the Wilders. Family dinners. Group phone calls. Group texts. Things he hasn’t been part of in a long damn time.
He sighs. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“No. It’s a great thing,” Melody says. “I haven’t seen that smile since—”
Her voice cuts off in a strangle, but he knows what she was going to say. Hell, they all do. Since Serena.
His mother’s voice now, edging in, chasing away the awkward silence. “So that’s her? Tess?”
Solomon clears his throat. “Yeah.” Unbidden, a smile hits his lips. “Tessie.”
At the thought of her, he straightens, glancing over his shoulder to search her out. His heartbeat ticks up a notch as she exits the bedroom, her own phone pressed to her ear. She’s fresh from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy white towel. They spent all day at the beach again, and tonight, dinner and dancing.
Before Tessie, it’s the last thing he’d be doing. But now, by her side is where he wants to be.
Relief fills him. He doesn’t have to leave her yet. He still has time.
A vacation he didn’t know he needed with a girl he didn’t know he needed.
Tessie glances up and gives him a small wave before disappearing back into the bedroom.
“I see her little bump,” Melody coos, bringing Solomon back to the phone call.
Evelyn sniffs, unimpressed. “She’s wearing a bikini when she’s pregnant.”
Jo now. “God, you’re stale, Evelyn.”
“I like her,” Melody announces.
“You haven’t met her,” Evelyn snips.
Jo says, “Jesus, let the man live, would you, Evil?”
Mom sighs. “Girls.”
“Listen,” Solomon barks. “I wanted to call and tell you that I’m staying down here for a few more days.”
“How long’s a few more days?” his dad asks.
He paces. “Monday.”
A yelp from Melody.
“Well, son. If that’s what you need to do, you do it.”
“Yeah, Sol,” Jo says. “Keep that smile on your face.”
Solomon appreciates how even-keel they are about this whole situation. Even after what he put them through with his disappearing and distancing act, they’re loyal as hell. That’s the Wilders too. They support, they don’t meddle.
With the exception of Evelyn.
“What about the baby?” his mother asks.
“It’s mine.” His heart warms, heats like a bonfire. Clearing his throat, he tears a hand through his hair. “Hell, I forgot to tell you. It’s a boy.”
A chorus of gasps and a little scream from Melody assault him. Evelyn the only silent objector.
“Oh, Sol,” his mom says, tears in her voice. He can practically hear her dabbing the corner of her eye. “That’s wonderful.”
“A babyyy,” Jo singsongs. “He’s gonna have a little beard.”
“Sure can’t wait to meet the little guy,” his dad gruffs.
“And then what?” Melody chirps.
Solomon tenses, stopping his pace across the terrace.
Goddamn good question.
He hasn’t thought about his future since Serena. His life was routine, rote, but without meaning or purpose. Hell, he didn’t give much thought to the world beyond his front door. He lived in his memories and one moment at a time. Black coffee in the morning. Walked his dog in the woods. Made his money woodworking. Bourbon in the evening.
Buried in grief, he kept himself closed off from the world so that he couldn’t have a future. He didn’t want one without Serena.
But now. . .
Being here with Tessie has opened his eyes. There’s more to his life.
More he could have.
The last six months—hell, the last five days—he’s been picking pieces of her out of his soul. Blond hair in his beard. Her lipstick on his chest. Her bright smile when they sway to the record player every night, both of them pretending that time is on their side.
Nothing matters except waking up next to Tessie. His hand on her belly, feeling the little squirm of their son inside. Already, he loves that baby fiercely. With everything he has.
“Are you bringing her back here?” Melody chirps in his ear. “Are you two, like. . .together?” she asks, instantly earning a scoff from Evelyn. “Or are you going there? Or maybe—”
“Melody, sweetheart, I think Sol’s just trying to figure out this whole baby business,” his mother chides.
He chuckles. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You have fun, Solomon,” his dad says, tone hopeful. “Keep that smile on your face and bring it back home, you hear me?”
“I will.” The words come out rough thanks to the brick stuck in his throat. He put his family through hell after Serena died. Made them worry about him. Made them think he’d never be the same.
A chorus of I love yous and goodbyes, and then Evelyn saying, “Sol, can you stay on the line?”
He sighs and waits for the rest of the family to hang up, and then his sister is hissing, “Why are you really staying?”
He frowns at her accusatory tone. “It was my idea,” he says, not wanting Tessie to take the brunt of Evelyn’s bad mood.
“You’re getting attached.”
He grinds his teeth. “It’s my son. I think I have a goddamn right to get attached.” He smears a hand down his beard. “Tessie needed this. She needs to relax. She quit her job and—”
“Wait.” A frantic clacking on the keyboard. “She quit? When she has a child to feed? Unbelievable.”
Fuck. He shouldn’t have said anything.
“She’ll find a new job. She’s a senior designer.”
Even now, Solomon can’t help but marvel at the fierce force that is Tessie Truelove. It was so goddamn ballsy quitting her job like that. It took all he had to hang back, to not grip the guy by his throat and toss his ass off the terrace. But his girl stood her ground. And it was damn sexy.
“How is she going to find a new job? She’s seven months pregnant.” A sputter over the line. “I don’t believe this girl.”
“She’ll find one. Anyone would be lucky to have her.”