11. Tessa

Adam sat across from me at his kitchen island, where he had just fucked me senseless. I was trying to ignore that hot little detail.

He was downright endearing in a way I didn’t expect. His hair was tousled, probably from me grabbing onto it when he gave me the first of two intense orgasms. He wore a faded T-shirt that clung lovingly to his broad shoulders and muscled chest. He took a swallow of water as he contemplated my request.

As he studied me, it struck me that, of course, I knew him. I’d been friends with McKenna since we were in elementary school. We’d both been born and raised here. Yet Adam’s observation was accurate. He’d been just far enough ahead of me in age that I didn’t know him beyond the surface. I knew the broad strokes of their family history and likely some extra details because of my close friendship with McKenna, but I didn’t know Adam. He was more like a friendly acquaintance.

“I love Steely Dan,” he offered.

“Oh, you do?”

“I love ’80s music in general,” he said somberly although there was a glint of humor in his gaze.

“Really?” I prompted.

“Really. Even before it got trendy again.”

“Well, the eighties had some amazing music. I love that era too,” I replied.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he added.

I was discovering something about Adam that I liked. A lot. He was patient. I never sensed he was restless for me to answer. He actually listened. Having only one relationship that was a sheer disaster, I was accustomed to Rich’s impatience, his constant annoyance for me to hurry up with what I was saying, or just completely ignoring me. It had gone that way for so long that I shut down and didn’t expect to share anything with him. It was easier for me to stay quiet.

I fidgeted in my seat and took a quick swallow of water. “I don’t know what you don’t know.”

Adam rested his elbows on the counter. “In all honesty, I don’t know much about you, Tessa. You’ve been McKenna’s friend for as long as I can recall. I know David is your uncle, and I know you married an abusive asshole and had a son. I also know you’re a weather reporter and really good at your job.”

I could feel the heat rising to the surface of my skin and knew my cheeks were pink. “Oh.” I swallowed nervously. “I also love Taylor Swift.”

“Well, Taylor Swift is a total badass. She’s an incredible songwriter and musician,” Adam said with a nod of respect.

“She is. I’m glad you agree,” I said with a grin.

“Your turn,” I prompted. “What do you do in your spare time?”

Adam was quiet for a few beats, and I could’ve sworn I saw shadows drift through his gaze like clouds passing across the sun. “I work a lot. I don’t have much spare time,” he offered quietly.

“I know. But surely you have something you like to do. A hobby?”

“I like to build things.”

“Like your house?” I lifted a hand, gesturing in a little circle.

“Yeah, like that. What about you? What do you do in your spare time?”

His question gave me pause because I didn’t do much for fun. I could chalk it up to being a mom, which was partially true. But being married to Rich had taken so much from me. He had an opinion about everything, usually negative. To protect myself, I didn’t do much of anything because it limited what he could critique about me. As I contemplated this, a piece of knowledge about Adam and me clicked into place.

I knew his family story. I understood he had things to protect himself from, just like I did. I sensed perhaps I trusted him so easily because he understood something that I didn’t fully comprehend about myself until this very second. I protected myself so thoroughly.

As we sat there, looking at each other quietly, comprehension flickered between us. It was more than just concrete information. It was unspoken, but I knew he understood it. Precisely as I did.

“I don’t have any hobbies. I’m a mom, and I…” I took a quick breath. “I like to read. Maybe we should find some hobbies.”

Adam’s brows rose. “We?”

“I don’t mean together,” I said in a rush.

“But it could be,” he said quietly. “If you wanted a hobby, what would it be?”

“I always wanted to take cooking classes for things I’ve never tried.”

“Let’s do it.”

“Together?” I asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of my voice.

“Sure. Do you have a preference? Thai food, Indian food, or something else?”

I pondered this before shrugging and casting him a sheepish smile. “No. Just something new.”

“I know there are cooking classes in Fireweed Harbor through the local community school program,” he suggested.

“It can’t be in Fireweed Harbor,” I said quickly.

Adam fell quiet, his gaze measuring. “I think I know why not, but can you tell me?”

“Because if Rich sees me going, he’ll start showing up and ruin it.”

“What if we didn’t let him ruin it?”

“It’s not about me,” I whispered through the tightness in my chest. “It’s about Eric. If Rich is upset with me, he makes things worse for Eric.”

“Ah, okay. So we find a class in Juneau.”

“I can’t fly there for classes!”

“We have company group flight passes. You can go with me anytime. I’m pretty sure Rich can’t start monitoring the flights to Juneau,” Adam offered dryly.

The flight to Juneau from Fireweed Harbor was twenty minutes. “Really? You would do that?”

“Of course.”

I took a shaky breath. “That would be amazing.”

“Find a class and sign us up.”

The calm confidence in his eyes soothed me. “Does it matter when?”

“I’ll make it work. For work, I can usually move things around, work from home, or work late. It doesn’t matter.”

My heart fluttered, and a sense of surprising joy rose inside me. My cheeks hurt from my smile.