“I need you to talk to me about stuff. If this is going to work, we need to be honest with each other, even when it’s stuff we don’t want to talk about.”
“I can do that.”
“Okay,” I say quietly, and he leans down, pressing his lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss. When he pulls back, he studies me for a long moment, then rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you, sunshine.”
My breath catches while my hands latch onto the front of his shirt.
“I know a lot has happened. I know this is all new, but everything’s going to be all right as long as we trust each other,” he tells me gently.
“I just don’t want you to end up hating me,” I admit, dropping my eyes from his.
“Look at me, Cybil,” he urges, using his thumbs to lift my chin. “I’m not going to hate you, and shit with Blake has been brewing for a while, and that shit has nothing to do with you.”
“What does that mean?” I wait, expecting him to blow off my question or to distract me like he’s done before, so I’m shocked when he doesn’t.
“He thinks working himself to death will earn his dad’s respect.” His jaw clenches. “He doesn’t realize the reason his dad is pissed at him all the time isn’t because he’s not good enough but because he’s disappointed Blake’s forgotten what’s actually important in life.” He lets out a deep breath.
“Over the last couple of years, things with him have gotten progressively worse. He’s forgotten what we fought for while we were in the military and why we built Live Life to begin with. We didn’t do it for the money. We did it because we wanted to make a difference. We wanted to help people realize their potential, to show them how strong they are, and to build bonds like the one we share.” His voice drops. “We wanted to do something that made us feel like we were still giving back. He might have forgotten that, but I haven’t, and neither has Maverick.”
Hearing that, I want to shake Blake myself. “Have you talked to him? I mean, I know it’s not exactly normal protocol for men to use more than a few words at a time.” He smirks as I add, “But have you ever told him how you feel?”
“Not in so many words.” He laughs when I roll my eyes. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’re here. Your family and friends are here, and I know you won’t want to move.”
“You know that, do you?” I raise a brow.
“You wanna move to Montana?” he asks, and my heart starts to speed up. The idea of leaving Jade, Maisie, and Bernard makes me feel slightly nauseous, but the truth is I would move to be with him.
“No,” I say, and he tries to hide his disappointment. “Not right now with everything that happened to Maisie, but once I know she’s going to be okay, yes. Absolutely.”
“Really?”
“I love your house.”
“And?”
“And what?” I frown.
“And I love you.”
“Thanks.” I press my lips together to keep from laughing, then scream and take off in a run, shrieking as he chases me down the hall and into my room.
“Trapped with nowhere to go.” He closes the door and stands in front of it. “I’m not letting you leave this room until I hear you say ‘I love you, Tanner.’” He stalks toward me, then catches me around the waist when I attempt to get across the bed.
“Tanner,” I breathe as his weight settles between my legs.
“Yeah, sunshine?” His lips brush mine.
“Never mind,” I gasp as he kisses me.
And sometime later, after he’s pushed me to the edge and fallen over with me, I wrap my arms around him and whisper “I love you” against his ear, thankful he didn’t let me give up on us.
Chapter 22
TANNER
With Cybil still asleep after I’ve taken a shower, I quietly leave the bedroom, head down the hall to the kitchen, and flip on the coffeepot before going to the living room to turn on the news. I start to take a seat on the couch, but my cell phone buzzes on the counter. I grab it and see a text from Blake, asking me to call him.
After Cybil tried to break up with me last night because of this situation with him, I’m not feeling very amicable, but at the end of the day, he’s still my brother. Not sure how this call will go, I take my phone with me outside in case I lose my shit like I have the last couple of times we’ve spoken. I clear the last step, head across the grass to the floating deck that’s kitty-corner to the edge of the trailer, and take a seat at the table situated near the gas grill. After dialing Blake back, I listen to the phone ring.
“Hey,” he answers, sounding out of breath, and I remember that supplies were scheduled to be delivered this morning, so he’s probably at the lodge, unloading the truck.
“I got your text. What’s up?”
“I’m sorry.” I’m caught off guard, and my fingers curl around my cell. “I fucked up. I shouldn’t have . . . fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything to you, especially in regard to Cybil. And I really shouldn’t have been a dick when you took off to be with her after her mom had a heart attack,” he says, and I don’t correct him about Maisie being her mom, since she is Cybil’s mother figure, even if she doesn’t call her Mom. “I just . . . shit. Everything between you and her happened so fast; then you took off, and I didn’t take it well.”
“You know I love you like a brother, man, but I’m done with the bullshit. I’m not going to live my life waiting for the next time you slip up and say some shit that will piss me off. Especially when your anger has nothing to do with me, or Mav, or the business. I also do not need to explain my relationship to you or justify why I’m leaving or need time off. I don’t work for you. I work with you, and as my friend, you should want me to be happy.”
“You’re right. You’re a hundred percent right.” He gives in immediately, and I wonder what the fuck is going on.
“Why are you having a change of attitude about this now?”
“Let’s just say I’ve had everyone up in my face for the last few days, pointing out how I fucked up and letting me know I need to fix shit or they’re done with me.”
“You deserve that.”
“I know,” he agrees quietly, then sighs. “I don’t want to buy you out, and I don’t want to lose you, man—come back.”
“I don’t know. You’re going to have to give me a couple of days to think about things.”
“All right. Before you hang up, how’s Cybil doing? Is she hanging in there?”
“She’s good. She’ll be happy we spoke about shit.”
“Yeah, so will Mom. She’s been on my case since the day you and Cybil took off and I lost my shit.”
“She’s been on your case for a lot longer than that.”
“You’re not wrong,” he mutters. “Call when you decide, but whatever happens, just know we’re still family—that’s never going to change.”
“Yeah.” My stomach muscles tighten. “We’ll talk soon.” I hang up and drop my head back to my shoulders.