“Maybe you can speak in hypotheticals,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “And I’ll pretend I’m asleep so you’re not breaking any rules.”
He studied her, something vulnerable flickering in his eyes. Then he nodded toward the stairs. “Yes, please. But don’t pretend to be asleep.”
“I’ll go in through your place,” she said, following him inside, “and change into something less party-ish and more like pajamas.”
There was an outside entrance up to her second-floor apartment, but because the house had once been a single-family dwelling, there were also stairs inside his unit. They used that convenient connection so frequently, it made her wonder if in some ways theywereliving together.
Inside, his living room was cool and quiet, the scent of fresh paint and ocean air lingering in the open spaces. The whole house was full of potential that he would soon draw out with the handyman skills he’d used to renovate the home where he and his wife had lived before her death.
Here, the living area stretched out before them, flowing into a modest kitchen, everything functional but dated.
Beyond the French doors, the small deck and plunge pool glimmered in the moonlight. She used his pool as often as he used her rooftop, and that worked for both of them.
“Meet you on the roof,” she said, heading up to her apartment.
“I’ll bring the wine,” he said. “You bring the short shorts.”
“Shut up.” But she was smiling as she went upstairs.
The unobstructed Gulfview from the roof, even at midnight, was a glorious thing to behold. And tonight, there was the occasional flash of a diehard celebrator with one last screaming crackler to make the blue-on-black horizon and moonlit sky even more enchanting.
Tessa hadn’t done much in the way of decorating her apartment yet, but she’d put in a lot of effort up here. The day after they moved in, she’d sprung for comfy chaises with a cocktail table, and an umbrella-topped dining set where she and Dusty shared breakfasts, lunches, and dinners together.
They’d hung some vineyard lights, which cast a golden glow over the little slice of paradise. Up here, the world seemed far away, with the view and the stars and the sky to envelop them like a privacy bubble.
She hoped that vibe helped him unload what was on his mind tonight.
He poured wine into two stemless glasses, and they toasted lightly before settling on their chaises. But Dusty didn’t lean back. He took a long drink, staring out at the horizon, silent while Tessa sipped and set her glass on the table.
She stretched out her legs, flicking the bottoms of her sleep pants, and crossing her bare feet.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Pretend I’m asleep and you’re dictating patient notes.”
He gave a soft scoff.
“Tell me as much as you can,” she urged. “At least enough to get this burden off your heart.”
He turned to her, his eyes narrowing behind his glasses. “How are you so perceptive?”
“One of my million great qualities.”
“Seriously.”
“I am serious,” she teased, sitting up a bit to take another drink. “But honestly, it doesn’t take telepathic talent to feel something’s working on you, honey.”
His expression softened at the term of endearment, which might have been the first time she’d called him that. She hoped it wouldn’t be the last.
He exhaled, slow and heavy. “There’s a woman I’ve been counseling for almost a year. Brace yourself, because it’s tragic.”
So many of his patients had tragic stories. How he faced death, sorrow, and personal loss every day and maintained a great sense of humor was a mystery to her.
“I’m braced,” she assured him.
“Her name’s Morgan and she’s twenty-six. About two years ago, Morgan had a baby girl, named Olive.”
Olive. Tessa swallowed at the mention of a baby with a precious name, dreading the rest of the story.Not the child, please, God, not the child.
Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Go on.”
