Page 65 of Cherished Lands
"I don't know what to do," I admitted.
"About Chase or about Tessa?"
"Both."
"Well"— he picked up my abandoned wrench— "in my experience, the truth usually helps. With both love and family."
I snorted. "That simple, huh?"
"Nothing simple about it. But it's a place to start."
We worked in silence again after that. But my mind kept drifting to Tessa.
Maybe Dad was right. Maybe it was time for some truth.
"Go on a date with me."
Tessa looked up from her laptop, brows pinched. She was curled up in what had become her corner of the couch, wearing one of my flannels over her leggings. The sight of her so perfectly at home in my space made something basic and animal inside me purr with satisfaction.
"What?"
"A date." I shifted my weight, suddenly feeling like an awkward teenager. "Tonight. Just... let me take you somewhere."
She studied me for a moment, green eyes searching my face. "Why?"
The question hit a nerve. Because Chase was right—I'd never done this properly. Never courted her, never shown her she was more than a convenient solution to a problem.
"Because I want to." I crossed the small space and crouched in front of her. "Because we did this all backwards, and I'd like to fix that."
"Fix what, exactly? Our fake marriage?" Her voice was carefully neutral, but I caught the slight tremor.
"No." I reached for her hand, relief flooding through me when she didn't pull away. "The part where I never showed you how very real this is for me."
"Elliot—"
"Just... trust me?" I squeezed her fingers. "Two hours. That's all I'm asking."
She bit her lip, considering. "Do I need to dress up?"
"Warm. Dress warm."
An hour later, I was navigating my truck down a winding path at the edge of town. Tessa sat beside me in her wool coat and knit hat, sneaking glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking.
"The lighthouse?" she asked as we pulled into the empty parking lot. "It's closed for the season."
"I know the caretaker." I killed the engine then grabbed the basket from behind the seat. "Come on."
The path up to the lighthouse was icy, but Tessa's hand felt warm in mine as we picked our way carefully up the hill. Lake Michigan stretched out below us, its dark waves capped with winter white.
"George lets me come up here sometimes," I explained, unlocking the door. "To think."
I flipped a switch, flooding the space with light. I'd been here earlier, setting everything up—the thick blankets spread on the floor, the basket of her favorite foods from Rosie's, the portable heater humming quietly in the corner.
"Oh." She stared around, taking it all in. "You planned this."
"I know it's not much?—"
"It's perfect." She turned to me, eyes shining. "But you didn't have to do all this just because of what Chase said."
