Brave Enough(36)

I nod and smile through the memory, tearing it up like a piece of paper and letting the tiny slivers slip through my fingers to be carried away by the wind. I don’t want them anymore. I don’t want to think back on that. Ever again.

Tag turns, eyes still on mine, half grin still on his face, and tugs me back toward the house. He doesn’t let me go. All the way back to the house, he holds me. My hand with his. My eyes with his. And that’s more than fine with me. I don’t want to look at my father, who I know is still standing on the steps. I can feel his angry energy like cold air blowing through my soul.

He won’t be ignored, though. When we mount the stairs and move to pass him, he reaches out to grab my arm, stopping me and forcing me to meet his disapproving eyes.

“Don’t do this, Weatherly. Don’t throw away your future on a whim.”

“This isn’t a whim, Dad. This is my life.”

“You’re telling me that you love him?” he asks, tipping his head toward Tag but not deigning to look at him.

I inhale deeply through my nose. “Yes. I love him.”

I feel Tag’s fingers twitch around my own, squeezing them a little tighter. I don’t know if it’s panic or what, and I don’t look at him to find out. Although I know it’s insane since we only just met, really, but I don’t want to see him shudder or shirk away from that word. It feels too right, too true when I say it aloud, even though it’s just what I had to tell my father.

Dad flings my arm away. “I raised you better than this. Better than him. He’s a common field worker, for chrissake,” he hisses, his voice dropping slightly as though he knows what he’s saying is in poor taste, regardless of his feelings for my engagement to Tag. “I’m sure he’s a fine enough man, like his father, but he’ll never be able to take care of you. This is exactly, precisely why I didn’t want you making this decision for yourself.”

“So you’re not even going to pretend that my happiness matters in all this?”

“You don’t have the first idea what will make you happy, Weatherly. You’ve been sheltered your entire life. But I won’t shelter you anymore. If you do this, so help me God, I won’t protect you.”

“I never asked you to,” I tell him, raising my chin defiantly and holding his gaze. “Stay if you want, but don’t think that your presence here will change my mind. It only strengthens my resolve.”

With that, I nod once and turn from my father, walking stiff-backed through the door and into the house.

—

“I’m sorry you had to hear my father say those things. He has no idea who you really are. He’s just . . . he’s a . . .”

I hear the soft rumble of Tag’s chuckle. “Sticks and stones, Weatherly. Sticks and stones.”

I let the conversation drop, unwilling to let my father mar one more second of my time with this man.

Tag sits up suddenly, resting his hand on my bare stomach. “Come down to Enchantment with me today.”

I love the excitement on his face, even though I’m sort of exhausted by it. After an orgasm-filled, nearly sleepless night, a dramatic morning, the world’s most romantic picnic on my bed, and then incredibly slow, sensual sex, my energy level is at rock bottom.

Yet, as I look up into Tag’s handsome face, as I lose myself in his swirling silver eyes, I feel my enthusiasm return. This man, this gorgeous, charismatic, highly desirable man, wants to spend the day with me. Why would I not be enthusiastic about that?

“For what?” I ask. After such an emotional hour or so, I don’t want to seem too eager. Even though I am. I think I’ve revealed quite enough of myself to Tag for one day.

“I want you to meet some of my friends.”

I’m immediately skeptical. “The ones who sent Cher?”

He cringes visibly. “Yes, but that’s why I want you to meet them.”

That seems backward, but whatever. And truth be told, I’m interested in Tag’s friends, in his life outside this place.

My hesitation must make him think I need convincing. “While yes, Rogan is the one who sent Cher, he’s really a great guy. He’s just got a . . . different sense of humor. He’s like a brother to me, though,” he confesses, his expression turning serious. “We were in the military together. Spent several years in Delta Five together. Right up until I had to come home. He’s saved my life more times than I can count. We’ve all saved each other’s life dozens of times. He’s as much family as my mom is.”

After hearing that, a team of guerilla warfare experts couldn’t keep me away. “Sounds like a trip I don’t want to miss.”