Page 77

His little voice is threaded with hopes and dreams as he calls out, “Night, Daddy.”

I take Faye’s hand in mine to walk down the hallway, then down the stairs. In the kitchen, she turns to me with narrowed eyes. “What’s this baby talk?”

“He started it.”

She raises a single brow. “Throwing your son under the bus now, Tatum?”

“He’s cuter.” I shrug shamelessly. “He might survive the bus.”

She leans into the counter with a small laugh and an amused shake of her head. “You’re something.”

I stand a little taller, pushing out my chest in mock pride. “I am.”

She swats my chest and it’s my turn to laugh, but I catch her hand as I do. I pull her into my chest, loving the way her breath snags.

I ask, “So? What do you think?”

Her eyes widen. “About a baby?”

“Yeah.” The word feels thick.

A myriad of emotions pass through her eyes. She pulls her lips between her teeth, shaking her head before blowing a breath from her lungs. “I don’t know.”

Something unpleasant tightens in my chest, bubbling in my gut. “What’s holding you back?”

“Work.”

“I can support us.”

She shifts uncomfortably in my arms, but I tighten them so as not to let her escape. She sighs. “I know you can. I just—I like working. And I’ve been thinking…”

“About what?” I prompt when she pulls her lip between her teeth again, snagging her thought.

She sighs. “It’s nothing. It’s silly.”

“Nothing is silly.” I give her a gentle squeeze. “What are you thinking?”

“Just that—well—I’ve been thinking maybe I could do something with Wilder Builds.”

It’s my turn to be shocked. “You want to do construction?”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I thought maybe I could go to school for interior design.”

All the conversations about all the things she wants to do to the house come to mind. When Mom and Dad told us they were gifting us the house, Faye became obsessed with walking through renovation stores. I can see her in my mind, matching tile to laminate, choosing faucets…

In the apartment, she’d spend hours scrolling Pinterest, adding pictures to her ‘dream house board’.

She’s always muttered about having no passion, nothing lighting fire in her blood enough that she might chase it. But what if design is the thing?

And Mom was just muttering about needing to hire someone to help around the office what with the business expanding as fast as it is.

“I think there’s a spot opening in the office with Mom,” I start cautiously. “Maybe you could study online and fill that position.”

Now that I know she wants it, I’d hate for Mom to hire someone else and Faye to lose the opportunity.

Faye nibbles her lip as she considers, but I sense excitement in her uncertainty. “I’ll talk to Elise.”

“I think you should.” I give her another squeeze. My heart feels like it might explode in my chest when she releases her lip to smile up at me.