Feeling my head being lifted, I blink my eyes open, then hold my breath when I find Tanner leaning over me. “Hey,” he says quietly as he takes my book from my grasp. “You fell asleep. I didn’t think you’d want to sleep with your headlamp on all night.”
“Thanks.” My voice sounds sleepy, and I catch his grin right before he turns the light off, and I hear the sound of it hitting the ground at my hip.
“So did the king get his prize?” he asks, and I hear the smile in his voice right before a thud, then another, that I’m guessing are his boots hitting the ground.
“Not yet. Katharine is being difficult.”
“Women.” He chuckles, and my breath catches as I hear the whoosh of clothing and then the sound of a zipper.
Oh my goodness, he’s getting undressed.
“Maybe it’s him,” I say, needing to fill the silence as I squeeze my eyes closed, which is ridiculous, because it’s completely dark. “He can’t just expect her to be okay after he came into her life and flipped it upside down.”
“Maybe she needs to trust him.”
“Well, Mr. Couples Retreat Expert, haven’t you been preaching all day long that trust is earned?”
I hear him still completely and wait for him to reply like I’m waiting for my next breath.
“You’re right, sunshine,” he says quietly as I hear him get into his sleeping bag. “Trust is earned. But sometimes, you need to be open to trusting someone else in order for things to work.”
“True.” I roll to my side, placing my back to him, then add softly, “Hopefully, she can do that, because she deserves to be happy.” I close my eyes while scooting down deeper into my sleeping bag and wrapping my arms around my middle. “Night, Tanner.”
“Night, sunshine,” he says gruffly, and I swallow over the lump that has suddenly formed in my throat.
As I lie there in the dark, listening to the sound of his breathing even out, I wonder if he feels even a little of what I do . . . and what it all means. Galvin never made me feel the way Tanner does, and we were together for years. I want to say I was in love with him, but did I love him more as a friend? Was I going to marry him because it was kind of always the plan? With those thoughts rolling around in my head, it takes me forever to find sleep, even though I’m exhausted.
Chapter 6
CYBIL
I slowly start to wake when the light of the rising sun begins to beat against my closed eyelids, and I shiver when the chilly morning air brushes against my face. Seeking out the warmth of my sleeping bag, I try to burrow into it, but my legs and waist are stuck under a heavy solid object. I start to force myself free, then freeze when I hear a grunt, and my heart starts to pound.
Tanner.
Without even opening my eyes, I know it’s him who has me trapped. I roll in my sleeping bag in an attempt to get away, not sure how I got across the space between us in the first place, then stop suddenly when I run into the canvas wall of the tent, causing it to shake. Stilling completely, I hold my breath and wait to see if I hear any sign that I’ve woken him up, but nothing but the sound of birds chirping and his steady breaths greets my ears.
Peeking my head out of my sleeping bag, I look across the brightly lit space and see him lying on his side, his eyes closed, and his chest rising and falling rhythmically. I carefully roll to my stomach, trying not to make any noise, and every muscle in my body protests as I crawl out of my sleeping bag. Once I’m free, I crawl my way to the opening and just as quietly unzip the tent before I head into the woods to take care of business. When I make it back to camp, Oliver is coming out of his and Lauren’s tent, looking just as sleepy as I feel.
“Morning, Oliver.” I give him a small wave.
“Good morning, Cybil. Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes, did you?”
“I’ve slept better.” He stretches his arms over his head. “See you in a bit.” He heads to the woods, and I dive back into my tent, zipping it closed.
Crawling on my hands and knees toward my sleeping bag with dreams of snoozing for a little while longer, I become paralyzed when Tanner’s gruff “Morning, sunshine” stops me in my tracks. I swing my head in his direction. “Did you sleep okay?” The question is innocent enough, but there’s a knowing glint in his eyes that causes heat to rise up my neck to my cheeks.
“Um, great. D-did you?” I stutter out.
“Better than I normally do.” He sits up, and I swallow when I see he doesn’t have a shirt on, which means I’m able to see exactly how perfect he is. My eyes roam over his thick arms, landing on his broad chest that has a scattering of dark hair between his pecs and then traveling down the middle of his abs—and I’m sure farther, but I can’t see past the sleeping bag that’s gathered around his waist. “Cybil?”