Page 88 of Tempt Me

For our house, he cares about everything from the wall colors to the pillows for the couch. Once he starts dreaming big, Tack can’t stop. After we learn we’re having a daughter, I often find him searching room designs on his phone.

“Is a girly room the right choice?” he asks.

“We can choose whatever we like when she’s little. One day, Lotus will be old enough to tell us what she wants.”

During a barbecue, Tack turns to Bear for advice. “I don’t know anything about little girls,” Tack tells his brother who is also expecting a daughter.

“Jacinda is easy,” Bear replies quickly. “She’s just like Hector except for her plumbing.”

I catch Tack studying Jacinda and Hector whenever they’re around. He’s overthinking the situation. Babies are just babies for a long time.

“You don’t need to be perfect,” I tell him one night.

The kittens are already put away in their tricked-out cat room. Tack and I cuddle on our bed. The TV plays Adult Swim. A light rain taps at the many primary bedroom’s windows.

Tack is stripped down to his boxers, seeming both vulnerable and intimidating. I rub my swollen belly and try to feel sexy when I look at his muscled body. Tack must sense I’m insecure because he kisses me with an intensity I feel down to my toes.

“I know you want to be smart and plan things out,” I whisper as he nuzzles my baby bump. “But I think you ought to trust your gut, too. It was right about us.”

Tack smirks for a moment before going soft. “My parents never wanted me,” he says, startling me with his honesty. “They planned to be childfree, and I was an accident. I don’t want to half-ass my kid’s life that way.”

Kissing his cheeks and forehead, I snuggle closer. “You’re going to make mistakes. That’s okay. Fucking up from time to time doesn’t make you a bad father. Tack O’Malley’s love is a wonderful thing for anyone to experience.”

Though my words hit the right spot tonight, he’s bound to struggle as my due date approaches. We both need to face our past to avoid mimicking our parents’ bad habits.

Though I’m like Suzanne in many ways, I won’t give up on Tack and me when things get difficult or unsatisfying between us. My mother chose to leave men. No one forced her hand. My family isn’t jinxed.

By then, Austen is living in her new house and raising her newborn son, Folsom. I believe she’ll choose to stick it out whenever Walla Walla and she have issues in the future.

My first big test with Tack is when he brings home a puppy one month before my due date.

“I was at the breeder’s place,” Tack says excitedly as soon as he finds me in the kitchen with the kittens bouncing around nearby. “The pug had puppies, and this one kept cracking me up.”

Looking at the puppy chilling in the curve of Tack’s elbow, I consider the chaos of another baby in the house. The kittens are already in everything and need to be corralled into certain rooms to avoid them getting hurt. Now, we’ll have a puppy in the mix.

Tack’s blue eyes lose their excited glow when I don’t immediately approve of his dog. The animal makes me feel guiltier by staring at me with his big goofy eyes.

“Four babies are a lot,” I mumble, feeling small under the power of their gazes. “But it also means they’ll grow up together.”

Tack looks down at the dog in his arms, and I feel him trying to talk himself into taking it back. I know dogs are a sensitive subject for him. He fixated on the ones who ran away when he was a kid. Then, he had to leave Sleepy behind. Now, I’m stealing his joy over this little guy he’s already claimed.

“What’s his name?” I ask, moving forward and taking charge. I stroke the spot just above the dog’s smooshed snout. “You can name him whatever you want. Even something goofy.”

Tack stares at me in the cold way he gets when he’s shutting down to protect his heart. I take the dog from him and walk away. For the next few minutes, I wait for Tack to decide how to handle his feelings.

Meanwhile, the puppy bounces around my feet and rolls around before snorting like a pig. When I crack up from his antics, Tack joins me and smiles.

“He kinda looks like John Belushi,” he says and kneels to pet the dog. “Is Belushi a good name?”

“Of course. Choosing a name is about finding something special to you. There’s no wrong answer. Now, whenever I hear his name, I’ll remember how he’s a little comedian.”

Tack’s chilly armor warms when I praise the puppy. Getting another pet makes zero sense. When I tell Suzanne that night, she goes silent and tries to think of how to praise a clearly crazy idea. Yeah, it’s nuts!

However, a painful life can run roughshod over a person’s heart and turn it black. Tack’s lucky to be a man capable of loving a goofy little dog with a tongue that never wants to stay in its mouth.

As my due date approaches, Tack and I create a solid schedule for our three fur babies. Fortunately, they get along.

At first, the kittens are horrified by Belushi. I don’t think they understand what they’re looking at as he rolls around and snorts. They take turns running at him and popping him with their paws. When he just bounces around, they quickly become pals and even sleep curled up together.

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