Tempted as she is to say those three little words, she has to be practical about this. She and Solomon are talking; not committing.
Besides, she needs a job. Although her insurance lasts through the end of her pregnancy and she has a stable nest egg, the last thing she wants to do is rely on Solomon to take care of her financially. Here, in Chinook, she’ll put out feelers in Los Angeles. She arches a brow at the woods. If she gets wi-fi reception.
Tessie gasps at the sudden appearance of what looks like a bird on steroids soaring above the treetops.
Solomon glances her way, then back to the road, a smile on his bearded lips. “Bald eagle.”
Overhead, the October sky plumes with dark clouds. “When does it snow?” she asks.
He tenses, holding on tighter to her hand, but keeps his eyes on the road. “If we’re lucky, November.”
Tessie shivers and adjusts her shirt, scowling down at her unflattering attire. Finally, the joke’s on her. She’s wrapped in one of Solomon’s flannels. They’re warm, that’s for damn sure.
Turning up the heat, he rakes his gaze over her, then drops it to the high heels on her feet. “We’ll get you clothes, Tess,” he says in that stern, gruff tone she loves. The one he uses only with her. A tone that tells her he cares, that he’ll take care of her.
“You’re about the same size as Melody, minus the stomach.” He lets off the gas and flips on his blinker. “She’s pulling together some stuff you can wear while you’re here. We can get it tomorrow at brunch.”
Tessie’s stomach flips over, her easygoing feeling evaporating at the thought of meeting Solomon’s family. What if they hate her?
At her sigh, Solomon squeezes her hand. “You tired?”
“I am. I’m running on exhilaration. And this baby is on my lung.” She rests a hand on the high swell of her stomach. God, she’s gotten so much bigger in the last few days. She shifts in the bench seat and arches a brow. “I’m thirty weeks today.”
He glances over at her, eyes dancing with pride and affection. “I know.”
“I feel huge.”
“You’re not huge. You’re beautiful, Tess.”
She flushes. Will she ever get tired of hearing him say that?
Just as quickly, she deflates. She has so much left to do. So much for keeping a content, worry-free brain space. It won’t be long before she starts to itch, that need to plan, to organize, to fix. “I need to find a doctor too.” She side-eyes Solomon. “Depending on how long I stay.”
Before she left Mexico, she had a telehealth call with her obstetrician, who said it was fine to skip one check-up but recommended she find a local doctor if she stays, or to make sure she gets back to LA before thirty-six weeks because of flying restrictions.
Solomon grunts. His broody glower says he doesn’t want to talk about her leaving. “I found you a doctor.”
She sits up straighter, her heart warming. “You did?”
“I did.” He’s nonchalant, as if Tessie’s heart isn’t already boiling over. “We can go next week. See if you like her.”
Smiling, she scoots closer, securing the middle seat belt around herself, loving the way he takes on responsibilities with her. Like it’s their problem. Not hers. It’s a relief. Not to shoulder everything for once.
“What else will you get me?” she asks, sweeping a kiss against the pulse in his throat. She drops her hand, trailing her fingers beneath the hem of his black Henley and up his warm, ridged stomach.
He stiffens. “Woman,” he growls, doing his damndest not to throttle the wheel as they rumble across a narrow stone bridge, “Knock that shit off, or we’re going in the ditch.”
Tessie puffs a laugh and eases up on the kisses, but before she can resume her passenger-side position, Solomon wraps an arm around her shoulder, keeping her near. “You know what you have, don’t you?”
Nestling closer to his big, warm body, she nuzzles her nose in his neck. “What?”
“The power to destroy me completely.”
She laughs. “I’ll use it wisely.”
“Relax, Tess.” His deep rumble vibrates through her. “I know your brain. No checklists. No worrying.”
She scrunches up her nose, wishing she had some of Solomon’s calm and contentment. “How come you know everything? How come you’re so, so. . .steady?”
His lips twitch. “Because I come from the mountains,” he says, pointing a large finger.
Tessie’s gaze drifts upward, and she squeaks.
Rising up out of the clouds are dark, jagged peaks of earth. Mountains. Strong, ferocious, brooding. Like Solomon. Their snow-white domes, delicately scooped like ice cream, mesmerize her.
Tessie looks south out the window. Quaking aspens shake in the gusty breeze. A squirrel darts into the road, regrets its decision, and dives for the bushes.
They blow by the Welcome to Chinook sign, population, 8,000. The cheery town motto reads: Take a Look at Good Ole Chinook.
Turning, Solomon takes a paved road into town. At last, the landscape is civilized. Main Street. Boutique shops, restaurants, bars, coffee shops, a butcher. A man tinkers with his car on the side of the road, lifts a hand to Solomon, who does the same in return.
“Welcome to Chinook,” her mountain man says softly. The glow in his dark blue eyes tells her all she needs to know. He loves this town, his community. And she wants to love it too.
“Where are we going?” she asks, laying her head on his shoulder.
“We’ll swing by the bar to pick up Peggy and then head to the cabin.”
“Mmm. I get to see the bar, the dog, and the cabin. I’m a lucky girl.”
The apple of his throat bobs, an affectionate look crossing his face.
Nuzzling against Solomon, Tessie lets her heart ease her worries. It feels divine to give in to the now, to fully enjoy the present without worrying about what comes next.
She will worry.
Later.
Because wrapped tight in Solomon’s arms, Bear safe in her belly, nothing else matters.
It’s like the mountains knew he was bringing her home.
Solomon, pride in his chest and Tessie curled into his side, takes in the vast Alaska sky. Clouds as white as cotton set off against a great grove of trees that stretch the horizon. Being back in Chinook is like drinking from a fresh alpine stream. Will Tessie see what he sees? Magnificent beauty? The wild nature he’s always loved? He hopes so.
Solomon pulls into the gravel driveway of Howler’s Roost and leaves the truck running. “Stay here,” he says. “I’ll grab Peggy and we’ll—”
But she’s already unbuckling her seat belt.
Swearing, he cuts the ignition, then shoots out of the truck and over to the passenger side. He grabs her hand before her feet can hit the ground. Yes, he’s acting like an overprotective asshole, but her center of gravity has completely changed. Not to mention she’s wearing the highest goddamn heels he’s ever seen. He isn’t taking any chances.
“Easy,” he soothes, his hands bracketing her shoulders, making sure she’s steady on her feet. Eyes sweeping over her, he smothers a smile. She’s damn adorable. Wearing black skinny jeans and Solomon’s oversized black and white buffalo plaid flannel. Even pregnant, she’s dwarfed by it.
“I’m not staying in the car, Solomon.” Tessie squints at the bright red barns sandwiching the drab gray silo. Shifts her focus to the rusted chanticleer weather vane perched at the very top. “I want to see this place you’ve been talking about.” She tilts her head and wrinkles her nose “It looks like a silo.”
He rubs a hand over his beard. “It is a silo.”
Hell, he’s embarrassed to let Tess see it. Embarrassed that he let the bar get this bad, let Howler pick up the slack. Still, he can’t keep her from it forever. Christ, it’s his damn job. If she’s sticking around—which, if he has any say in the matter, she is—it’ll be a part of her life.
“Just. . .” Taking her elbow, he guides her carefully across the rock parking lot. “It’s a wreck. Know that.”
Her eyes drift to the neon sign, sputtering like it’s on its last life. “I’m good with wrecks.”
“You can’t judge.”
Her lips purse like the thought’s a lemon. Then—
“Fine. I will internally scream my objections.”