With Brave Wings

by Cara Dee

  She looked lost and exhausted. Dressed in a hoodie Tennyson assumed belonged to Noah, given the Pittsburgh Penguins logo, and yoga pants. Hair messy and up in a bun, shadows under her blue-green eyes, no makeup.

  She bit her lip, eyes glistening, and approached Tennyson warily.

  He didn’t understand. "Come here, you." He pulled her in and hugged her tightly. "Why are you acting like you're waiting for me to ground you?"

  "Because I fucked up." She sniffled and buried her face in his chest. "Haven't you checked the internet?"

  "No, I don’t do that." He tilted up her chin and smoothed away her frown with the pad of his thumb. "You shouldn’t, either." She sighed and slumped against him, and Tennyson kissed the top of her head. "Come on. Let's get you settled at the hotel."

  He wanted to say, "Let me take care of you for a while," but that was a no-go. So getting settled it was.

  The film he was shooting took him away from civilization, and he rarely left the set in the middle of nowhere. But he'd gotten two days off to be there for Sophie, though he suspected he'd be on the phone a lot with his ADs. They were off with the second unit and a fuckload of extras.

  "Have you slept any?" He opened the door to his rental SUV and helped Sophie in. She merely shook her head and fastened the seat belt. "Are you hungry?"

  That earned him a small nod, and Tennyson scrambled his brain for suggestions as he grabbed her bag and put it in the back. Then he got in behind the wheel and started the engine.

  "I'm guessing you want privacy." He backed out of the large hangar and followed the signs directing him to the exit of the airstrip. "No restaurant?"

  "No, no peopleing," she whined. "Don’t make me people, Tennyson."

  He chuckled and made a turn for the nearest interstate. "Understood. Wanna just order in?"

  "Yes, please. Kiddo wants mozzarella sticks and grapes."

  "As a combination?" He couldn’t help but cringe. "Never mind. Anything you want." He'd learned that was the safest answer to a pregnant woman.

  Sophie was here to unwind. Daniel had told Tennyson she'd been inconsolable last night, to the point where she'd gotten sick. She wanted out of LA for a bit, and she'd gotten a few days off from work. There was no way Tennyson would jeopardize her peace of mind. He was only glad she'd wanted to come to "overrated" Texas.

  She could've picked any destination in the world.

  *

  Considering there were two bedrooms in Tennyson's suite, he hadn't even thought about booking an extra room for Sophie. The hotel was packed to the max with the film crew anyway, but it didn’t seem to matter. Sophie didn’t appear to have counted on her own room.

  "Thanks for letting me crash here for a few days." She jumped up and popped a kiss to his cheek as he dropped her bag on her bed. "Mind if I take a shower?"

  "Of course not. Our food should be here soon, too." He removed his ball cap and ran a hand through his hair. "Let me know if there's anything you need." He gave her a smile before exiting her room, and he did a quick survey of the living room area of the suite. With notebooks, flash drives, and stacks of DVD cases everywhere, he figured a quick cleanup was in order.

  The poorly labeled DVDs ended up in his room. He'd have his on-set PA sort them later because they held footage Tennyson wanted to go through again.

  When there was a knock on the door, he abandoned the tidying and went to answer it. The two guys from the hotel staff didn’t question the strange order, but Tennyson tipped them well, regardless. Two pizzas, one burger combo, a fruit plate, mozzarella sticks, and a few desserts made for one large order of takeout. The food came from three different places, to boot.

  "Thanks, guys." He closed the door after they'd left, and he shook his head, amused by the sight. The table in the living room was filled with all the food Sophie had said she craved. But he had a feeling she wouldn’t touch a tenth of it.

  It beat having her cranky, though.

  Besides, Tennyson enjoyed doting on her.

  "Oh my God." Sophie stood in the doorway to her bedroom, eyes wide and trained on the food. She was only wearing a hotel robe, and her hair was damp from her shower. "I went overboard, didn’t I?"

  Tennyson smirked faintly and shrugged. "I have a feeling the others on this floor are willing to take whatever you don’t eat." His assistant directors, script supervisor, and a few others would probably be starving when they returned later tonight.

  Taking his seat on one of the two couches, he flipped open the lid of the box to his pizza. "Sit. Eat."

  "Yes, sir." She snickered softly and plopped down next to him. "I don’t know where to start." She went for the fruit plate and a slice of pizza first. "Anyway, how're you liking your film crew? You didn’t get to handpick them this time, did you?"

  No, for the first time in years, Tennyson was a studio puppet like the rest of them, and it fucking blew. "The second AD is a godsend, but the first could go fuck himself. If I didn’t love the script, I'd be breaking all kinds of contracts to get out of the project."

  The script was also the reason he'd agreed to join in the first place. It was a challenge to work with a large cast, not to mention so many producers he barely even knew half of them.

  "You miss Noah?" Sophie smiled sympathetically.

  He nodded and chewed a mouthful of pepperoni pizza. "You could say that. I miss handpicking. I miss being the puppet master."

  She giggled and patted his knee. "You poor thing."

  Tennyson made no excuses. He was a director for a reason; he'd been hired because the studio wanted his version of the film. Yet, every day when the dailies were shipped off, he had to wait for approval. He was used to having the dailies sent to the producers, of course, but it was more of a formality. He knew what he was doing, goddammit.

  "What about you?" He picked up another slice. "How is it being a French fry in a recording studio?"

  "It's fun." She smiled widely and bit off a bit from her mozzarella stick. By now, she had four containers opened. "No endless hours in makeup and wardrobe, less waiting."

  Tennyson chuckled. Back in college, he'd shared a dorm room with a guy who wanted to be an actor. A professor had told his roommate, "Theater hurts and there's a long line. You'll sit around and do nothing more than you'll ever act."

  "Actors have it easy. Try being a director. Never a quiet moment."

  Sophie let out a guffaw. "Said the famous director on his day off."

  He grinned. Touché. "These aren't normal circumstances, brat."

  Damn, he loved how easy it was between them now. Getting to know Sophie on a more personal level was a high, and the few weeks they'd had in LA before he came here had been full of discoveries.

  She was growing up before his eyes, and he admired her strength and determination immensely. And unlike what she had feared regarding yesterday, Tennyson was only glad she'd stood up for herself. He didn’t think it had backfired at all. The media attention was the only thing he wished she could get rid of.

  "I'm so full." Sophie slumped back on the couch after one pizza slice, a couple mozzarella sticks, and a handful of grapes. "Ugh. I can't reach my ginger ale."

  Tennyson grabbed it for her and then leaned back to feel up her belly. It was showing more and more with every day that passed, it seemed. Unfortunately, his phone interrupted him at that moment, but he didn’t leave the room.

  "What's up, Carl?" He placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek so he could feel his boy moving inside Sophie.

  "We're on the fifth take of the explosion scene," his first AD told him. "We have everything leading up to Micah's death, but I'm not satisfied with his family's reactions. It has to be stronger."

  "Okay, so tell the actors that." Tennyson didn’t see the issue, or why Carl was calling. "They aced it during rehearsals. Remind them."

  "It's getting dark."

  Tennyson rolled his eyes, understanding now. Carl wanted permission to wrap for the day. "Then I suggest you get back to work. Some
changes in the light can be taken care of in post-production. Unless the actors are stressed out, there's no reason you can't manage a couple more takes."

  Sophie grinned and mouthed, "Hardass," to him.

  He winked at her.

  "Roger that," Carl muttered and hung up.

  Tennyson sighed and threw the phone on the table. "We're only weeks into the production and I'm already wishing it could be over." Tired and with a headache settling in, he lay down and rested his head on Sophie's thigh. It brought him close to her baby bump, and he closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against it. "I can't wait to meet the little one."

  Sophie hummed and poked his bearded cheek. "Maybe while I'm here, we can find a name." That would be great. "Too bad Flynn's out. I like that one." It was Tennyson's turn to hum, and it became one of pleasure as she began weaving her fingers through his hair. "We should decide on guardians, too."

  "Ash and Brooklyn," Tennyson suggested through a yawn. "Or Daniel. I'd love for it to be my brother, but he's better with dogs than children."

  Sophie laughed quietly. "Well, Daniel would be honored, and Brooklyn is a good choice. She's taught me a lot. And I'm sure we can include Asher somehow. Does he have a cute middle name? Actually, while we're on the subject, what's your middle name?"

  Tennyson wrinkled his nose. "My middle name is out—Kip."

  He heard Sophie's spluttered giggle. "Kip?"

  He grinned sleepily. "My mother was on a poetry streak when she was pregnant with me, and I suffered for it. Tennyson after Lord Tennyson and Kip after Rudyard Kipling."

  "Aww, but I adore your name." She scratched his scalp gently. "But what about Asher?"

  "Kayden," Tennyson replied. "He was named after fictional characters, both from random hippie novels. I believe my father shot down a whole list of Shadow, Winter, and Moon Beam. Asher and Kayden were two of the few normal-sounding names."

  Sophie laughed before she smiled widely. "I like Kayden."

  Tennyson would have to think about it, but it didn’t sound half bad. "Kayden." He tested it out. "Maybe…" Ash would certainly get a kick out of it. "I think I like it."

  "We'll put it on the list." Sophie tapped his temple. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta pee. But my bladder's had a good time fangirling over being used as a pillow by Tennyson Kip Wright."

  He let out a gruff laugh and helped her up, only to collapse down on the couch again. After being so tense all day waiting for Sophie to get here, he was finally able to relax. He hoped to speak to her about everything—get her take on it—but it could wait until tomorrow.

  *

  Tennyson woke up the next morning to a quiet hotel suite. Sophie was still sleeping, and when he returned from the gym downstairs, nothing had changed. He showered, ordered breakfast, spoke to his assistant directors, suffered through two Skype meetings with the producers and the studio, and then finally gave Sophie's door a knock.

  "M'sleepy," was her groggy answer.

  Tennyson chuckled quietly and walked away. At least she was alive and well. After finishing his meal, he retreated to his bedroom to catch up on some work.

  It was approximately an hour later when Sophie trailed into his bedroom with her duvet wrapped around her. She was a waddling little meatball, and she was nibbling on a waffle. Her hair was all over the place.

  "Morning." She collapsed down on the bed next to Tennyson.

  He eyed the clock on his laptop. "Good afternoon, sleepyhead."

  "Don’t sound so chipper. I might resort to violence." She licked her fingers once she'd finished the waffle, then straightened the duvet and propped her head on a pillow. Her phone, which she'd hidden only God knew where, ended up between them. "What'cha doing?"

  He closed the lid of his laptop and rubbed his eyes. They were tired, and he hoped a headache wouldn’t settle in. "Just finished some work, and I was reading an article on digital enhancement. Did you sleep well?"

  She nodded. "To make up for the night before, I guess." With a sigh, she picked up her phone, the screen lighting up. "Let me know if you want privacy. All I have to do today is go through something Sage has written for me."

  It surprised Tennyson that her publicist was going that route. "You're going to publish a statement about the restaurant incident?" In his experience, going public with comments rarely calmed down the media. If anything, it riled them up.

  "Not so much a statement as an article." Sophie quirked a wry smile. "What's Sage known for?"

  He didn’t know where she was going with this, but he answered anyway. "Being ruthless? Unforgiving? Cunning?"

  Sage Hart was practically a brand. Sophie was lucky to have her as a publicist. She'd been in the industry some thirty years, and she chopped off balls for a living using her words and connections.

  "I was going for merciless, but those words work, too." Sophie laughed softly. "Anyway, she's setting up a phone interview for me with Variety. The reporter will mainly ask about Barcelona Quarter, but there will be a few personal questions as well. When all is said and done, there'll be a thinly veiled fuck-you to those who can't respect the privacy of someone who is pregnant."

  "Ouch," Tennyson chuckled. "Playing the pregnancy card will hit home with America, at least. Good for you." He tugged gently on a strand of her dark hair. "I know you prefer to handle this on your own, but you know I'm happy to help, right?" He had half a mind to silence people permanently whenever Sophie got unwanted media attention, but in their line of work, it was impossible.

  "I know." She sent him a smile before refocusing on the screen. "I gotta do this Miss Independence style, though."

  He was very aware. That was one of the things he'd learned prior to leaving for Texas. A new side of Sophie Pierce, one that was all about "I can do it myself." It was both admirable and frustrating. Mostly admirable, but it wasn’t always easy because he was so fucking protective of her.

  Not being able to fix the wrongs and ease the troubles for her didn’t sit well with him, and it was a double-edged sword. On the one hand, he got to watch her bravery and her growth. On the other, he felt helpless.

  Placing his laptop on the nightstand, he grabbed his phone and got comfortable, adjusting the two pillows behind him. He'd been thinking about buying a new car that was more suitable for children, so he might as well check online.

  Speaking of the internet… "Did you really look for gossip the other night?" She'd been so good at staying away from that. Something about Brooklyn and Noah being her filters.

  Sophie hummed, typing on her phone. "A little," she admitted. "I couldn’t help myself. Thankfully, Daniel stopped me after, like, five minutes."

  Silly girl. She needed to learn there would always be people who had nothing better to do than put others down.

  "What did you see?" He brought up Google on his phone and started his search for what would be his first minivan. He'd never seen that coming, but he had to say it was fun.

  It was also a decent distraction when it would be so easy to focus on the fact that he had a sinfully gorgeous girl in his bed. Regardless of how relieved he was to be close to her without awkwardness, he was still a red-blooded male.

  "The party princess is back," she fake cheered. "Sources say I've missed my old life, that I regret becoming pregnant, and that I plan on hiring a nanny as soon as the baby's born so I can go out more." She sighed and scooted closer, to which Tennyson lifted his arm so she could rest on his chest.

  "I'm sorry." He kissed the top of her head and frowned. "One might think the paparazzi would spin some of it in the other direction."

  "You mean blaming Cassandra?" she asked, and he nodded. "Oh, they did. The majority, actually. Cass is now the scandalous diva who almost assaulted her pregnant childhood friend. Funny thing about the media, they can blame everyone."

  Tennyson hmphed, only marginally satisfied that Sophie's former friend had taken some of the heat, too. In his opinion, it should all fall on this Cassandra.

  "Was your father ment
ioned?" It irritated him to no end how Peter had treated Sophie over the years.

  She shrugged slightly. "Not really. We were still inside then, so I guess most people don’t know he was there. I just wanna forget the whole thing ever happened. Fucking party princess…"

  Tennyson had a feeling that was easier said than done, but he could tell she was done talking about it now, so he didn’t press for more. Instead, he chose to focus on the next few days. He'd make sure she knew she could always turn to him for anything, be it comfort, privacy, or just a place to regroup.

  "You can be my princess instead."

  "Beats the diva kind." She grinned up at him.

  He noticed that she'd finished writing back to her publicist, and now she was reading on her phone. In turn, Tennyson reverted his attention to the car search, and he browsed through articles about the safest vehicles in today's market.

  As it turned out, minivans were incredibly boring. How could they even be described as safe? If a Navigator rammed into a minivan, everyone knew which vehicle would end up without a scratch. So it was no wonder he left the minivans behind for SUVs. He'd always prefer his vintage Impala, but when he drove around with his son in LA, he wanted a goddamn tank.

  "Difficult to get comfortable?" he murmured, noticing Sophie was squirming. "I can get you another one of those pregnancy pillows if you want." He knew she had one at home; it helped her to find a good position to sleep in.

  "No, it's fine." She squirmed a bit more then tried to lay still. "You're my pregnancy pillow. Although, the one at home is softer."

  He snorted quietly. "Thank you. I think." He wasn’t quite sure if there was a compliment there.

  "Mmhmm." There was some more squirming while she flipped a page on whatever she was reading. "You've gotten all ripped while I got flappy."

  Flappy?

  Was that even a word? He couldn’t help but laugh. "You're pregnant, Sophie. Not…whatever you said."

  He'd been unable to resist her at her weakest. Now when she was carrying his child and growing stronger with each day…? Whole other circle of hell. Torturous at times. But when push came to shove, he wanted to be on the sidelines and watch Sophie's personal journey.