He rubbed my shoulder. “Honey, I know you’re torn up. And I know I’m being a totally selfish bastard when I say this, but I’m not going to lie and say it’s okay for you to run back home right now. I know you want to be there for her but we need this time together.”

“I know. And I’m not running anywhere.”

He gently tugged my chin up. “I don’t want shit like this to ever happen to us. I won’t let our love go there, Tar. I won’t. I swear to God. I told you that you will always come first and I mean that. I want to give you the world and never take it back and I won’t let anything stand in the way of that. But I’m also under contract here. No matter what, I still want to provide for my wife and family.”

I snuggled into his chest. “I know, babe. This is your job and I fully support it. I know where your heart is.”

Ryan’s fingers drifted over my faint scars. “I really want you to know what it’s like to be on set with me. You asked me to help you understand it all and I don’t know of any other way to do that except to have you experience it all.”

I nodded. “I want that, too. But I also know that she’s back there dealing with my bar and going out of her mind at the same time. Of course my only reaction is to want to fix it.” And kill Gary.

“So let Cory run the bar for a couple of days and tell her to come to Vancouver. She probably needs to get the hell out of there anyway. Change of scenery would do her good.”

I pondered that for a moment, wanting to be sure his offer was genuine. “Are you serious?” I had no qualms about closing the bar for a few days, knowing Cory couldn’t handle running the bar by himself.

He’d only been working as a bartender for me for six months.

He nodded and gave me that small, crooked smile of reassurance. “She’s your best friend. She needs you. And I start conditioning training in the morning. You girls can hang out, do girl stuff.”

Gripping his cheek, I kissed him. “Thank you. Your understanding means the world to me.”

His hand locked around my wrist. “Hey! Where are you going?”

“I want to check flights and buy tickets.”

Ryan rolled out from underneath me and playfully pressed my head back into my pillow. “Stay put, love. We have a travel agent at our disposal, remember? I’ll take care of it.”

After everything was arranged he was back in my arms, answering my question of how I could repay his kindness in whispered replies, all of which revolved around orgasms numbered seven and eight. I was so willing to pay up.

The minute I saw Marie in the terminal, her wry smile instantly turned to tears. It had taken some convincing, but I finally got her to agree to come. My heart sank and constricted hard from her misery.

We’d been through so much together, so much loss and heartache and devastation, but our emotional support for one another was unwavering.

Time after time our friendship had been tested, like a battle-worn ship that refused to sink. She’d been my rock when my mom died and my salvation when the guilt and pain had been too much. She held me while I trembled as the paramedics took my father’s body off the floor of the pub and away in an ambulance.

I nearly went out of my mind when she wrapped her car around a tree just nine days after we had graduated from high school; I spent every waking moment thereafter nursing her back to health. I was her maid of honor.

And now, today, we were adding another heartbreaking page to our eternal-friendship history book.

I stroked her long brown hair and hugged her fiercely. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

When Ryan returned later that day after spending his morning being trained to rock climb, he gave Marie a long hug. “You need me to kick his ass for ya? Anything you need, just say the word,” he said softly.

Mike stood off to the side, a case of beer in his hands. He looked like he was sorry for interrupting.

Ryan shrugged. “I thought maybe you ladies would like some time to yourselves, so Mike and I are going to watch the hockey game later, okay?” Like two little boys, they appeared hopeful that they’d get permission.

We sat in the living room with the men when the pizzas arrived. Marie was slowly getting into better spirits; she seemed to be a little more relaxed.

“Here, let me get that for you,” Mike said, almost jumping out of his seat to open a bottle of beer for Marie. If he only knew how many bottles of beer she’d opened by herself in the last umpteen years working behind the bar. His gesture was endearing but almost laughable.

It was around eight thirty when Ryan decided he couldn’t live without salty junk food, so the four of us piled into Mike’s rental. Marie stopped abruptly, gasping in shock when Mike rushed to open the car door for her. Ryan, forever the gentleman, always held my door for me. He always treated me like a lady.

“I don’t need a map. I have the GPS,” Ryan joked from the passenger seat as he fumbled with the in-dash navigation.

“Good thing Mike’s sober or we’d be driving in circles,” Marie teased.

Ryan turned and leered at her. “Hey, don’t talk about my man, Mike. He’s an important part of this mission.”

“Thank God. Lord knows someone’s got to defend you when all those horny housewives try to assault you in the aisles,” Marie joked. “How much you want to bet that someone asks you to autograph their rump roast?”

Mike laughed. “Wait. Does his signature actually have to go on meat or are all groceries included in this bet?”

Marie raised a brow at me. “All groceries,” she clarified. “Why? You seriously want to bet against me?”

“Why yes, darlin’, I believe I do. Women always dig in their purses for paper first,” Mike replied. “I’ll give you a few minutes to think about what you’re willing to lose in this bet. Choose wisely.”

His flirtatious comment surely didn’t go unnoticed in the backseat.

I grabbed a cart before we went into the store, sensing Ryan’s apprehension. He tugged his baseball hat lower, glancing around nervously.

As usual, Mike entered the store first. He did that wherever we went, getting the lay of the land before allowing Ryan entrance. After he did his quick visual sweep of the produce section to make sure the vegetables weren’t staging an attack, he sidled up next to me and bumped my arm. “Jeez, woman. I thought we were here for Doritos. How much do you intend to buy?”

“For how much food you two pack away, I should get two carts. And unless you like wearing the same crusty underwear every day, I suggest you zip it and pick out your favorite fabric softener.” I gave him a playful elbow bump back.

Mike looked aghast. “Did you just threaten me with laundry?”

“Considering that we don’t qualify for on-set laundry services like some people . . . uh, yeah.”

Ryan was already piling the cart with fruit and some cookies that were on display when we first walked in. He frowned at Mike. “There’s no food in our place and if she stops cooking for me because you’re being an ass I’m going to kill you.”

Mike held up his hands in surrender. “You don’t have to tell me twice. If it weren’t for Taryn I’d never get a home-cooked meal and if she’s willing to wash socks for me . . . Consider it shut.”

I grabbed some lettuce. “Marie is a better cook than I am. She can make soup from a stalk of celery and a rock.”

Marie smiled broadly at me. It was one of our private jokes from back in the starving college days.

Ryan waved the pack of cookies in Marie’s direction. “There you go. Get your own cook.”

I took the pack of cookies out of the cart. “Not on the approved diet from your trainer, babe.”

Ryan’s pout was heartbreaking. “No cookies?”

I felt like the mother of an overgrown baby. “No cookies. No doughnuts, either.”