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Grant frowned. “Rogue.”
“You know he’s a good man. You trusted him to help.”
“I trusted him to have a skill set we needed to meet an objective.”
“Stop. That’s all bullshit. You respected him when he was in your platoon. You just didn’t like that he made a decision without consulting you.”
My heart monitor started beeping, and Grant rushed over to look at it like he’d suddenly become a doctor.
“He’s upset, and his heart rate is up,” Jacob said. “Why don’t you go get some coffee?”
Grant made a disgusted face. “Hospital coffee? No thank you.”
“I don’t care if you drive to Starbucks. Just go.”
Grant sighed. “Fine.”
When he left, Jacob sat down on the end of my bed. “Grant’s scared too and angry with himself.”
“It’s not his job to decide who I sleep with.”
“I know, but he believes it’s his job to protect you. He believes that if he’d been there, he could have taken out Tiny, and you would never have been shot.”
“He can’t know that.”
“Of course not, but do you think that has stopped either him or Rhys from blaming themselves?”
“They’re ridiculous and way too dramatic. I’m the rodeo star, but they are the ones that want to be the center of every drama.”
Jacob smiled. “They love you.”
“I know, and I love them too, but that doesn’t mean… I can’t just forget…” I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent tears from flowing. “Why did he have to disappear?”
“Grant is right about one thing. Disappearing is what Ghost does. It’s the skill that has kept him and those around him alive. You don’t really think he stopped caring, do you?”
“I don’t want to think that, but… what if this never meant the same thing to him?”
“Is that what your gut tells you?”
I considered the question for a few moments, even though I knew the answer right away. “No.”
“If you’d seen him as we waited for you to get out of surgery, you wouldn’t ever question how he felt. His devastation was tangible. He just sat by himself, not speaking. He would have done anything to change places with you.”
I sighed.
“Why did you do it?” Jacob asked.
“If you saw someone about to shoot Grant, and there was any chance you could prevent it, would you try?”
Jacob held my gaze for a moment before nodding. “I’m not a risk-taker like you, but yeah, I’d do anything I could to save him.”
“That’s why.”
“So you’re in love with Ghost?”
“I thought I was, but I don’t know.”
“Because he left.”
I nodded.
“That’s not going to change you loving him.”
He was right. “When did you get so wise?”
“I’ve had a lot of time to ponder the stupid choices I’ve made, and the one decision I made that was absolutely right.”
“Grant is so perfect for you.”
“He is.”
“I… I wanted that too.”
He laid his hand on top of mine. “Give it time.”
I shook my head. “Grant is right. I need to move on.”
“Or do you need to fight for what you want? When you couldn’t manage to stay on a bull, did you decide to never try again, or did you make a plan to conquer the bastard?”
“This isn’t bull riding.”
“Hmm. I guess Ghost isn’t built like your brother.”
My mouth fell open as I stared at him, then the laughter hit. I had to hold my stomach to keep from hurting myself. “Oh my God, I can’t believe you said that.”
Color rushed to Jacob’s cheeks. “Neither can I, but it made you smile.”
“What’s the point of fighting for someone who doesn’t know how to stay?”
“Maybe you teach him how, or maybe you just make it clear that you’re here whenever he’s ready to return. If he loves you the way I know he does, he won’t be able to stay away. Eventually, the need to see you will be greater than whatever stupid reason he’s using to convince himself you’re better off without him.”
Could that really be true? Did I dare try? I’d worked so hard not to hope, and anyone with sense would say I’d been right. Hope wasn’t for me, but what if….
Once I was finally up and about again, my family did everything they could to find things to distract me. Blade showed up one day in a rundown truck with his meager belongings piled in the back. Grant and Rhys introduced me, then conveniently needed to rush off to take care of something, leaving me to help Blade get his things moved in and figure out what else he needed to make the cabin comfortable.
He hardly spoke, but he seemed appreciative, and he was strong as fuck. We rearranged some of the furniture to fit in an old chair he’d brought, but he could easily have done all the lifting himself.
“An old favorite?” I asked, gesturing toward the threadbare chair.
“My grandma’s,” was the only explanation he gave.
I looked around the cabin. Grant had outfitted it well with all the basic furnishings including dishes, towels, and bedding.
