“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.
After that phone call and Cybil saying last night that she loved my house and would be willing to move to Montana, everything is back up in the air. I thought I had shit figured out, had already mentally started making plans for making this place a little more comfortable, and had put out some feelers to see about opening my own guide business in the area.
“You look deep in thought.” Cybil’s words bring me out of my head, and I turn her way and watch her walk across the grass, looking too beautiful in the early-morning light. Her hair’s a mess, and the long sweater she has wrapped around her barely hides the fact that she’s only wearing a tank top and panties.
“I just got off the phone with Blake,” I tell her, reaching for her hand and pulling her down to sit sideways on my lap. “He called to apologize for being a dick.”
“That’s good.” Her eyes study mine as her fingers skim along my jaw, then over my bottom lip.
“It is.” I grab hold of her wrist and kiss her fingers before holding her hand against my chest, over my heart. “But after talking to him, you and I need to decide what we’re going to do.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to figure out if I’m going to sell and move here, or if you’re going to move to Montana with me so we can start our life there.”
“Oh,” she says quietly, her eyes going from her trailer to her shop, then the trees surrounding us.
Cupping her cheek, I wait for her gaze to come back to me. “If we decide on Montana, you don’t have to sell this place—you can keep it, and we can use it when we come to visit, or you can rent it out for a little extra cash or even sell it later on down the road.”
“I love you.” She rests her forehead on my chin.
Fuck, I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to or tired of her saying she loves me. Yeah, I’ve had Mav and Blake, along with his family, but until her, I’ve never had anyone of my own, and it feels good, better than good, to have someone to belong to. “I love you too.”
“I know that it’ll take Jade, Maisie, and Bernard time to get used to me being away, but I . . .” She lets out a breath. “But I was happy with you in Montana. It felt like home when I was there, and even though I’m going to miss everyone, I’m ready for a change.”
“You sure about that?”
“Would you sell your house and move here if I told you that I didn’t want to leave?”
“Yes.” I don’t even have to think about it. I never wanted to sell my portion of the business, but I would choose Cybil every single time.
“I know you would, so I need you to have as much faith in me as I have in you.” She lets out a deep breath, then presses her forehead into the crook of my neck and wraps her arms around me, holding on tight. “I trust you.”
“That means a lot, sunshine.” I hold her tight, knowing that no matter what happens, as long as she and I find our way through this together, everything else will be all right.
Hearing the engine of Dave’s plane start up, I look down at Cybil and wonder if I’m making the right decision. Being away from her isn’t something I want, and I know she doesn’t want it either. But after lots of conversations and talking to Maisie, Bernard, and Jade, we decided that I would go back to Montana to work. She would join me in a month—enough time to get the rest of her place packed up and on the market.
That doesn’t mean it will be easy being away from her, especially after spending the last few weeks together, day in and day out. As I look into her eyes, I realize the next month is going to test our relationship, specifically with me being away from my cell and not contacting her while I’m out with clients.
“I love you.” Her chin trembles as she tips her head back to look up at me.
“I love you, too, sunshine.” I brush my lips across hers, trying to force myself to release her when everything in me is screaming to hold on tighter and never let her go. “One month.”
“One month,” she repeats, taking a step back with her fingers still curled around my tee at my sides.
“Be good,” I order, and her lips curl up into a smile.
“I will be.”
I have no doubt, but it doesn’t make this any easier, and it also makes me realize how every taken man I was stationed with felt when they had to leave the lives they had behind in order to go out and fight for the country they loved.
“I’ll see you in a month,” she says.