“That’s the spirit! Easy as pie. And this way Tess won’t feel like she’s cramping the newlyweds’ style.” Grammy nodded and tossed down her napkin, clearly signaling an end to the discussion. “Now, speaking of pie, is there dessert, dear?”
Somehow, Tess made it through dessert and the viewing of Mitch’s plans with nobody calling her out for acting anything other than normal. Not that anybody here, including her father, really knew what normal was for her. The family insisted on utilizing their small army status to wipe out all the dinner dishes, and she could hardly protest on the grounds of needing the time and space to have a little freak out. So she said thank you instead and chatted over a cup of tea as they made short work of the mess she’d made.
“Sandy and I can drive you back to the hotel.”
“I appreciate that Dad, but I think Mitch and I need to iron out the details here.” Like whether they were really going through with it.
Her father looked like he wanted to say something else, but bit it back. “You’ll be needing a car.”
“I expect I will. I’ll add it to the list. Thanks for coming. And thanks for supporting this project. It means a lot to me.”
Trey skimmed a hand over her cheek. “I have no doubt you’ll make it shine.”
Tears sprang to her eyes at his easy confidence. Had he always been this supportive and she just missed it? Maybe all the pressure to perform, to over-achieve, wasn’t coming from him at all. God, why was she getting all emotional about this?
Tess wrapped him in a hug. “I love you, Daddy.”
“Back atcha, Peanut.”
With a modicum of fuss, everybody was finally out the door and on their way back to town. As Mitch shut the front door behind them, Tess dropped into the nearest chair, the weight of the evening crashing down on her. Giddiness warred with exhaustion and the combination left her feeling faintly sick. Because she hadn’t just gotten the green light on her passion project and the ability to stay. Grammy had gifted her with a golden opportunity to explore things with Mitch, without the necessity of subterfuge. Tess wanted to jump at the chance to be with him. But it wasn’t the same as if he’d invited her into his space himself. He’d looked poleaxed at his grandmother’s suggestion.
“So my grandmother is kinda pushy.” Mitch sank onto the end of the sofa nearest Tess.
Here it came. He didn’t want this. It was too much, too fast. “I couldn’t think of a graceful way to do anything but agree with her.” Which was true, even if she hadn’t wanted to disagree at all.
He rubbed his hands along his pant legs, not quite meeting her eyes. “You don’t have to move in, Tess. Most of the rest of the family clearly thought it wasn’t the best idea, and nobody’s going to think any less of you if you choose to stay at the hotel or make other arrangements.”
“What about you?” The question spilled out before she could stop it. She was afraid of the answer. Afraid that something had irrevocably changed during dinner and she’d have gained one dream only to have lost another.
“I’d love to have you here.” Leaning forward, he reached for her hand. “I want you here. Every night. In the mornings. No more sneaking around. But I realize this is fast and a lot and I don’t want you to feel pressured—”
“No. No.” She stumbled over her words as relief bro
ke over her in waves. “I want to be here.”
The carefully neutral expression he’d been wearing since dinner finally cracked. “Yeah?”
Feeling back on solid ground, Tess rose and slid into his lap, looping her arms around his neck. “Of course, I do.”
His arms snaked around her waist, feeling like comfort and roots. “The room’s yours as long as you want it.”
Pausing to choose her words, she skimmed her fingers through his hair. “I’ll happily use the office. But I was hoping I’d be sleeping in your bed. I’ve missed being able to do that since Scotland.”
He tightened his embrace. “Thank God. It’ll save me the trouble of coming down the hall to sneak into yours.”
“So we’re settled, then? I’m moving in?”
Mitch grinned. “You’re moving in.”
Giddiness outweighed the exhaustion. “When?”
“There’s no time like the present.”
“I like the way you think.”
So they drove to The Babylon to pack up her things. It didn’t take long. She hadn’t planned on being here for longer than a week. As Mitch carried her bags up the stairs, she nudged him toward the guest room.
“Better to be safe than sorry, just in case any members of your large and involved family happened to wander through the house.”