Me:
Hey. All good?
Fitz:
Yes
Me:
Okay.
Fitz:
It was nice seeing you. I miss you
Me:
You too
CHAPTER 22
Fitz
Our next “friend date”is supposed to be in LA, but Tessa had a last-minute meeting with her architect at Loveland Ranch, so she’s driving up on a Friday afternoon, and I’m planning something here.
I don’t love the idea of Tessa making the long trip here every other weekend, pregnant or not, but I’m excited to show her a few things I’ve set up at the ranch.Herranch.
She pulls up in her Jeep with a pile of drawings and idea boards her designer sister loaded her up with, and I carry them all into the house. “We’re almost ready to start construction on a new wing that will have a suite for me to stay in with the baby when we’re here,” she says, pointing at the plans.
I heft her overnight bag, which weighs about three tons. “Does this giant bag mean you’ll be spending the next month here with me?”
She rolls her eyes, but I’m completely serious, hopeful that she wants to be here more. I really like having her here even though I know it’s not realistic with her job.
“Nope, I just brought some stuff I want to leave here.” Tessa shakes her hair free of the rubber band that had pulled it back, and the sunlight plays among the subtle highlights. “If we have a girl and she’s gorgeous like her mama, I’m going to be chasing away every boy who thinks he can get within ten yards of our daughter until she’s twenty-one,” I say.
“She’s not going to like that very much.”
“You’re right. Twenty-one is too young. I meant twenty-five.”
She laughs, face sun-kissed, cheeks pink, lips full. “You look good. Healthy and relaxed.” I take in her figure, which is a little more curvy with a baby bump starting to show. It’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, and I can’t help staring longer than I should.
“That’s the effect of time on the open road, leaving the stresses of work and the city behind.” She twirls like a schoolgirl.
“Kind of makes a person question why you live in a stressful city.”
“That person should take me out on our friend date and stop questioning my life choices.”
“Noted. Well, this is your friend date.” I spread my arms open wide. “You’re on it.”
She looks around for something other than her own ranch house in front of us. She’s been here dozens of times, meeting with contractors, so she knows the place better than I do.
“What am I missing?” she asks.
“Come.” Tipping my head, I gesture for her to follow me inside. I dump the plans and her bag on the table in the middle of the room. She follows me out to the back, where I’ve built six raised beds for growing vegetables and herbs.
It’s taken some long hours after my workday ends to get it all done, but it’s worth it for the expression of wonderment on her face. Her eyes are rounder than I’ve ever seen them, and her smile stretches wider once she takes everything in. It remindsme of how she looked when we took the horses up the hill, and she saw the view of the valley for the first time.
It also reminds me of other things I should not be feeling—how much I want to touch her skin, the memory of how she tastes—all of the things that make it harder to push her away and remind myself that I can’t get attached.