Hang Tough(22)
So here she was . . . wandering around at midnight.
Jade stopped in front of the liquor cabinet. Whiskey might lull her to sleep, but she didn’t see herself swiping the bottle of Jameson and sneaking it back to her room. There was something pathetic and dangerous about drinking alone in this kind of mood; it could easily become a habit.
Get some fresh air. Clear your head.
On her way outside, she snagged an afghan off the back of the couch.
The front door wasn’t locked—a fun thing to bring up with her grandmother tomorrow since she’d promised they’d spend the afternoon together.
Jade quietly closed the screen door after she stepped onto the porch.
The night air did smell sweeter here. She leaned against the porch pillar and tried to check out the stars, but the overhang blocked the sky. To get the full view, she’d have to stand at the bottom of the steps, and that seemed like too much effort.
Great. Now she was restless and lazy.
“Couldn’t sleep?” A voice came from the corner of the porch.
Jade whirled around.
Tobin sat on the chaise, kicked back and holding a beer.
She pressed her hand to her heart. “You scared me. Good thing I’m not a screamer.”
His immediate flash of teeth in the darkness told her the dirty direction of his thoughts.
Or maybe she was projecting. Tobin’s grin was far more wicked than innocent. “What are you doing out here?”
“Waiting for my fence to pick up this pillowcase full of silver frames, candlesticks and silverware I’ve secretly stashed under my chair,” he said without his usual humor.
“Now that you mentioned it . . . I thought it looked like a few forks were missing earlier.”
“I wouldn’t know since I wasn’t allowed to dine with y’all.”
She called him on his crappy attitude. “Bad day on the range, cowboy?”
“Shitty day all around, thanks for askin’.” He paused. “Sorry. I’m still in a lousy mood.”
“That makes two of us. My day wasn’t rainbows and butterflies either.”
“Speaking of . . . thanks for fixing my cupcakes, cupcake. That was the last bright spot in my week.”
Jade smiled. “You’re welcome. GG said they were a big hit. So what made your day lousy?”
“Besides getting kicked, stomped on, yelled at, equipment breaking down and running out of supplies?”
“Yes, besides that.”
“There is nothin’ besides that.”
“You win. Your day was worse than mine.”
Tobin grunted. “Why’re you out here?”
She tugged the afghan around her shoulders. “It’s too quiet. I couldn’t sleep. I’m used to constant noise.”
“Now that would drive me bat-shit crazy.”
“You get used to it. Or in my case, I grew up with it.”
“Did Miz G visit you often in the big city?”
“Never as often as I wanted, but at least four times a year.”
“So you didn’t spend time hanging out with her here during summer vacation?”
“She’d come to us. Then we’d go to the Jersey Shore or the Catskills or some other place.”
“I find that odd. Wouldn’t you think your dad would want to come back home once in a while?”
Jade frowned at him. “My dad didn’t grow up in this part of Wyoming.”
His beer bottle stopped in front of his mouth. “Really? I thought Garnet was local.”
“Maybe in her childhood, but not during the years she was married to my grandfather and raising my dad. They lived outside of Jackson Hole—I never visited there either. GG sold the house my dad grew up in after my grandpa died. Then she bought this place.”
“Huh. That’s news to me.”
So he didn’t know everything about her grandma. “My dad said this wasn’t his home. His home didn’t exist anymore and he had no reason to ever waste time here.”
Tobin sipped his beer. “Well, except for the tiny fact his mother lives here.”
Given his mood, she’d ignore his digs. “What about you? Are you local?”
“Depends on how you define local. My family’s ranch is near Saratoga. South of here about an hour and a half.”
“How often do you go home?”
“Almost never.” He pointed his bottle at her. “Wipe that smirk off your face. It’s not the same thing. I’ve never been close to my family.”
“I’d hate that,” she said softly. “I’m close to both of my parents.”
“I was always closer to my mom than my dad.” He swigged his beer. “That makes me wonder . . . are your dad and Miz G close?”
“Like do they talk on the phone every day? I don’t believe so.”