Hope’s heart lifted for a moment, wondering whether what Tate said was true. But she had a hard time accepting that Jason hadn’t told her the truth. He’d cold-bloodedly forced her to do what he wanted. “I want to go home.” She was still pissed at Tate, but mostly she needed time to think about what had happened with Jason.
“Why? So you can keep running away?” Tate asked furiously.
“I’m not running—”
“Bullshit,” Tate said forcefully. “I get that you were looking for freedom and maybe an adrenaline rush when you first started in photography, that you wanted to make a name for yourself by chasing storms. I also understand why you wanted to go back to doing it so the bastard who kidnapped and assaulted you didn’t win. But I don’t think you’re happy doing that anymore. It’s your way of staying disconnected. I saw you taking those wildlife pictures, Hope. You were in your element. I have a hard time believing that storm chasing isn’t getting a little old, but that you don’t know how to do anything else to numb yourself but running around the world, chasing storms. You’ve disconnected yourself by lying to your brothers, so you can’t talk to them. And you’re going to run away from a guy who clearly loves you, even though he isn’t fucking perfect.”
“What makes you the relationship expert?” Hope asked defensively, but she started to think about her days here with Jason. Everything hadn’t been a lie: the gentleness he showed her, his willingness to help her get over her fears, his comfort when she needed him, even the way he treated her darn cat. He’d lied, but so had she.
“I’m an expert because I’m just an observer. I can see exactly what’s going on. Maybe I’ve never felt that way about a woman, but I can clearly see how both of you feel. Hate me if you want to, Hope, but I thought I was helping you. I’m still trying to help, dammit,” he informed her heatedly, running a hand through his short hair in frustration.
“I don’t hate you,” Hope whispered huskily. “I can be upset with you, and I can be pissed, but I could never hate you. You saved my life.”
“That was my job. This is personal,” Tate said morosely.
Hope knew Tate was wrong. He’d taken his job very personally. They were one and the same. “I don’t hate you,” she repeated.
“Good. Because I’ve always kind of liked you,” Tate told her with a grin. “You have balls. Now use them and talk to Jason.” He hesitated a moment before he said evilly, “But make him grovel before you forgive him. He should have told you the truth by now. You’re married to him.”
“Tate?”
“Yeah?”
“You really are a jerk sometimes,” Hope told him, deadpan.
“Does that mean you haven’t forgiven me?” He flashed persuasive gray eyes at her and his dimple dented his cheek.
“I’ll think about it.” Hope stood and made her way to the door, knowing she’d already forgiven him. She had no doubt he was being a know-it-all, thinking he had the answers to all of her problems. And maybe he actually did. But she wasn’t telling him that. He had a fat enough head already.
Following behind her, Tate mentioned arrogantly, “No woman can stay mad at me. Not even my mother or my sister, Chloe. One minute Chloe’s pissed, and the next she’s hugging me until I can’t breathe.”
Hope could believe that. Tate Colter was a real charmer when he wanted to be. As she opened the front door, she turned back to him. “I’m not going to hug you,” she warned him.
“You will eventually,” Tate said with a shrug. “I’ll walk you back.”
“No. I’m good.” Hope really needed some time alone to get her thoughts together. If she was going to confront Jason, she needed time to think.
“You sure?” Tate asked dubiously.
“I know my way back, and I’m not exactly a stranger to a hike in the Colorado wilderness.” She rolled her eyes.
“You want to hug me,” Tate told her mischievously.
Narrowing her eyes at him, she shot back, “No, I really don’t.” Hope closed the door in his face with a small smile.
Tate Colter could charm any woman out of her panties—every woman except her. She was so on to him now. Still, he’d be a hard man to resist for any woman not already in love with another man.
Hope found the trail back to the guesthouse and followed it. Her mind wandered off to Jason, another man who was almost impossible to ignore.
A man I don’t want to ignore.
She was hurt, but maybe Tate was right about a few things. She really didn’t want to go back to chasing storms all the time anymore. She loved doing wildlife photos, and she was ready for another challenge. Years of watching the devastation those forces of nature brought to people’s lives had taken its toll on her. Burnout had hit her after a short time back in the field after her kidnapping, and she could have quit then. She’d proved that she could do it. But there had been really nothing and nobody else in her life, and she’d kept doing what she knew. Maybe she had been running away, disconnecting herself.