“Probably,” I agree, not looking forward to calling them and wondering how long I can put it off. “Then again, they were okay that time you snuck off to Cabo with that guy you met at the airport when you were supposed to be coming home from seeing your grandma. So even if they are mad, they’ll get over it eventually.”
“That and this are not even close to the same thing,” she hisses as Tanner drives us down the tree-lined dirt road away from the lodge, moving one hand to wrap around my thigh.
“How is this any different?”
“Because you’re Cybil. You don’t do wild shit like that, and I don’t even know this guy. He could be—”
“You’re on speakerphone right now,” I say, cutting her off before she says something that will embarrass me more than I already am. “And I’m not doing anything wild. I’m spending more time with someone I just spent a week with.”
“You’re spending time with a man,” she says, seemingly unconcerned that he can hear everything she’s saying.
“Yes,” I agree. “And?”
“You’ve never even talked to a man besides Galvin before. Sorry, but this is all a little much for me.”
“I was always with Galvin, so I had no reason to,” I point out.
“You’ve lost your mind,” she whispers, and I let my head fall back against the headrest. One thing I haven’t missed this last week is everyone questioning my judgment and thinking I can’t make decisions for myself.
“You need to trust me,” I reply.
“Cybil, this is—”
“Jade, I love you,” I say, cutting her off again. “But I’m not a child, so please stop. You’re not going to change my mind.”
“Okay.” She sounds somewhat stunned, then is quiet for a long moment. “Will you at least send me his information?”
“She can do that.” Tanner glances over at me as he gives my thigh a squeeze.
“Thanks, Tanner.” She laughs, sounding disgruntled.
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll call your mom and dad so you don’t have to break the news to them.”
“Dammit, Cybil, I knew I should have gone with you,” she grumbles. “I knew you’d go to Montana and find a cowboy with a deep voice and never come home.”
“Tanner isn’t a cowboy. He’s a former marine, and I didn’t say I wasn’t coming home.” Truth be told, I have no idea what will happen after this week, and really I don’t want to think about it, because the thought of this not working out makes me feel anxious, especially after realizing that you can know someone for years and have no idea who they are.
“Even worse,” she gripes. “Just promise you’ll call me.”
“I promise I’ll call you.”
“All right,” she agrees, then calls out, “Tanner!”
“Yeah.”
“If you don’t take care of my best friend, I will drive to Montana, track you down, and kill you in your sleep.”
“Right,” he says, his lips twitching into a smile that causes his dimple to pop out.
“I’m serious.”
“I promise I’ll take care of her,” he says, glancing over at me, and my entire chest warms from the look he gives me. Right, it’s those looks that remind me exactly why I’m taking this risk.
“Good, and Cybil? You’d better call Mom and Dad. I’m not dealing with that mess.”
“I’ll call them.”
“Love you,” she huffs.
“Love you too. I’ll call soon.” I press end on the call, then tuck my cell back into my bag. I know I said I would call her parents, but I didn’t say when, and I have no desire to hear them lecture me with Tanner here for the conversation.
“She loves you.”
“Yeah. She’s also a little overprotective.”
“She’s worried. It’s understandable, and you’re lucky you have people who care.” He gives my thigh another squeeze, and I cover his hand with mine. “You’re tight with her parents?”
“They were my mom’s best friends.” I let out a breath as I fiddle with his fingers. “When Mom passed away, they took me in, and I lived with them until I was old enough to be on my own.” I lift my head to look at his profile. “What about your family? Are they going to freak out that you have a woman staying with you who you don’t really know?”
“I haven’t seen or talked to my parents in nine years,” he says, and my chest starts to ache. “When I turned eighteen, I joined the military and didn’t look back.”
“Tanner,” I murmur, not sure what to say, not even sure that if I said something, it would be enough.
“They didn’t want kids; they didn’t want to do anything but party all night and sleep all day. I was an inconvenience.”
“I hate that for you,” I say as the ache in my chest causes my eyes to burn.
“Don’t.” He glances over at me while his fingers lace carefully through mine. “As fucked up as they were, I wouldn’t be where I am now without them,” he tells me quietly, then shakes his head. “I’ve made a life for myself, have friends who are like family, got money in the bank, and do a job I love. Because of them and in spite of them, I’ve succeeded.”