A timer dinged. Kathleen pulled the fries up. She slid the bun on a plate, topped it with the patties and condiments, and set the bun top beside it. She shook the fries and dumped them on the plate with a little salt. Then she hummed as she set a cup of the new fry sauce next to it.
Ryan is the guy behind the cookbook. The implications turned her stomach into a tightly balled knot.
Kathleen held the plate out to Tara. "Take the man his burger. He's in his usual booth."
Usual booth? Tara stared at the plate and then at Kathleen. "I can't."
"You can." Kathleen's voice was tender. "You're a strong woman. You can face Ryan Sanders any day. You have nothing to be embarrassed about. I know you can. I've seen you do it before. It's time to let go of the awkwardness between you. Go out there and make a joke of it."
Tara reluctantly set her own plate on the counter, grabbed Ryan's burger and headed for the dining room to prove a point to herself. She could face Ryan like a mature woman.
Gram slid out of the booth and hurried off as Tara approached, leaving Ryan by himself, sipping a cup of black coffee. Ryan looked up at her with a wary expression.
She couldn't blame him for being cautious. "You ordered a double cheeseburger?"
"Margie ordered one for me." His tone was neutral, his expression masked.
"Good enough." She took that as an invitation and slid in across from him as she slipped the burger in front of him. She took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. Maybe Kathleen was right. If she made light of the situation…
"Besides its kiss-inducing powers, mistletoe obviously has little-known hallucinogenic properties." She paused, wondering exactly how to set him straight. "Forgive me, under its influence I thought you were someone else."
In the old days, he would have grinned and laughed at her lame apology. Instead, he looked surprised. What does he expect from me?
"You called me dressing man. You knew who I was." He tilted his head, ignoring his food. His eyes flashed and he sounded almost angry. "You weren't trying to pull my chain?"
"I had no idea you were the dressing man." Being so near him was unnerving and surreal. "Obviously you weren't expecting me, either." She tried to smile and put a tease in her voice. But she fell short, she was sure. "Are you so hard up for a date these days you've stooped to letting Gram fix you up?"
He stared at her a minute as if he couldn't believe what she'd just said and didn't deserve an answer.
When she couldn't stand it anymore, she broke the awkward silence between them. "Don't even try telling me you were simply delivering dressing." She was still trying to keep things light and cordial. "I know exactly what you're up to—you're behind the cookbook."
He shook his head. "Great job, detective. You found me out. Only everyone in the area and all the tourists know that dark little secret." There was more wariness than humor in his voice. He paused. "Talk about hard up. You hit on me, thinking I was a total stranger—"
She could tell he was trying hard to be jokey. "Hit on you? Please." She rolled her eyes for effect and to hide her nerves. Her pulse was racing dangerously. "I wasn't hitting on you, per se. I was scaring off some poor bumbling fool who'd had the misfortune of stumbling into the Echo Bay matchmaker's lair. I was doing a favor for a stranger, since it's Christmastime. As it turns out, I was doing you a favor."
His expression made his skepticism perfectly clear. "In that case, apology accepted."
She studied him unabashedly, drinking in the sight of him as if she'd been thirsting for it for years.
He still had the same intense eyes. The same dark stubble and strong chin. His face had filled out, which made him look like a man, not a boy, and more attractive, not less.
He hadn't removed his coat and beanie. She hoped he was sweating under all those layers of clothes. But perversely, she wanted to see his hair. Maybe he no longer had any, or maybe he had a ponytail down his back. Either way, she wanted to see it. As if fulfilling her wish, he pulled his beanie off, revealing the same sexy, lush head of hair she'd loved to run her fingers through way back when.
She curled her fingers into a fist in her lap, hoping she was wrong and he wasn't making a play for Echo Bay.
Across the table, Ryan watched her.
"You're working for Copper Creek now?" She kept her tone polite, hopefully sounding as if she was simply making small talk, not prying. But she was dying for details.
He continued staring at her, watching her in a way that made her feel under the microscope. "I'm vice-president at the plant."
Vice-president? She should have been impressed, and relieved. Even Ryan wouldn't throw away a high-powered, high-paying position like that.
"Stop by and see the plant while you're here." He cleared his throat. "Check us out so you know we're not some big, evil corporation out to steal your grandma's secret recipes. Take a tour when you come. The bottling machine's a thrill a minute to watch."
She hesitated, not jumping right in to accept his offer, wondering why he'd issued such a half-hearted, impersonal invitation. Was he thinking they'd simply sweep their past away and go on as casual strangers?
"It's not much out of your way," he continued. "The plant's on the near side of town, only fifteen minutes from here on good roads, a little longer in the winter depending on the weather. Driving into work this week has taken me about double because of the snow."
"What?" Her mouth went dry as a terrible new thought occurred to her. Ryan hadn't run out from town on this errand. This wasn't going to be the sole meeting with him this visit. "Don't tell me you're the mysterious new resident number twenty-four? The one Grandpa changed the sign for?"
He nodded. "Yeah. Go figure. I guess I've arrived. After all these years, Harry finally added me to the sign. I bought the Tucker cabin."
Seeing Ryan again, finding out he was working in town, and now that he was living right next door in the cabin they'd talked about living in together someday was just too much for her. Yes, he'd always loved the Tucker place, but it had been an unspoken agreement between them that they keep their distance. Time had not healed their wounds. There were many beautiful pieces of property around the lake. He had to buy the land right next to hers?
"You bought the property right next to my grandparents' resort?" Had he forgotten about the joint plans they'd had for the place? She couldn't keep the surprise out of her voice. But what she really felt was fear and shock.
"I've always wanted the Tucker place," he said. "When it became available, I had to snap it up. If I didn't, I might never get another chance at it. I'm a good neighbor. I swear." He shot her a half-smile.
Tara couldn't take any more surprises. She scooted to the edge of the booth, eager to escape. "Eat your cheeseburger and fries before they get cold. Gram and Kathleen are dying for your opinion of their new sauce."
He caught her hand as she stood, preventing her from running off. His hand felt too warm and intimate over her icy one. She hoped he couldn't feel her pulse leaping in her wrist. "It's good seeing you."
"Yeah, you too." But she was just being polite. Seeing him again was stirring up a maelstrom of emotions. She shook off his grip and made her departure.
As she walked past the pie case, she noticed the last slice of Gram's famous lemon meringue carefully set aside as if waiting for someone special. Since it was Ryan's favorite, she pretty much knew for whom. She loved lemon meringue, too. Not as much as Ryan did. But she suddenly needed something sweet to take the edge off the bitter taste in her mouth, and this slice was plated and ready to take. She grabbed it from the case and got a fork from the drawer, ready to head back to her room with them. As she headed toward the stairs, she turned over her shoulder for a final glimpse of Ryan. He had the gall to be unabashedly staring after her with a look she couldn't read. Mindlessly, she took a bite of pie.
Ryan's golden retriever Blondie popped out of her Dogloo and met him as he stepped out of his SUV into the carport, still reeling from his encounter with Tara. Blo
ndie wagged her tail and barked her happy bark.
Glad someone loves me.
"Hey, girl! Hey." He knelt to let her off her tether, scratch her ears, and give her some loving, still picturing Tara's eyes as she ate his slice of pie.
"Miss me?" He pulled a bite of hamburger patty wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. "A little something for you." He unwrapped it and fed it to Blondie as he rubbed behind her ears with his free hand.
"Gotta love a girl who doesn't give me grief." He gave her a pat. "Let's get you some real food." As he stood, man's best friend took off for the cabin door, her nails clicking on the concrete carport floor as she ran.
"Hey, Blondie! Wait for me, girl." Ryan froze as a memory bubbled up. Blondie.
As a kid, he'd teased Tara, calling her blondie, an immature and ineffective way of flirting. She'd been a regular towhead. Her hair was a darker shade of blonde now, a result of growing up and living in a city without sun. She'd highlighted it, he could tell. The sun streaks in it now were professionally done, not the result of a season on the lake.
But her eyes were still the same snapping green. She always claimed they were blue, blue with yellow flecks around the centers that mysteriously appeared at puberty. He remembered how mad she'd been when she got her learner's permit and the guy at the DMV refused to list her eye color as blue, putting down green instead.
"Blue and yellow makes green. You're unique," he'd told her.
"Like a freak," she'd said.
"Like beautiful," he'd told her, meaning it with all his heart.
She'd blushed.
That Tara, the one I could comfort, died with Chad.
Blondie barked at him to come.
Damn! Without realizing it, I named the dog after her.
He wondered if it was too late to call the dog something else.
He cursed the bad luck that brought Tara back just now as he was making inroads with Harry. Although, to be honest, it was more likely Margie's conniving that had brought her to Echo Bay for Christmas. It was pretty clear Margie wanted them to kiss and make up.
He took a deep breath as a sense of foreboding washed over him. Tara would only cause trouble between him and the old man, just as she always had. And Chad wasn't around to champion him this time. And if Ryan wasn't careful, Tara would crush his heart again, too.
Tara curled up in front of the river-rock fireplace in the private living quarters, hoping the warmth from the crackling fire would overwhelm the cold shock she felt from the day's events.
She stared vacantly at the laptop in her lap, upset with her grandmother for tricking her into talking to Ryan. For setting them both up and keeping secrets. She knew her grandmother meant well, but she should have told Tara that Ryan was back and given her the choice of whether to see him again or not.
Gram sat on the sofa opposite the fireplace, bathed in a warm holiday glow the firelight cast on the polished open-log walls. She felt her grandmother watching her.
Gram took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. It was only seven, but in another half hour, she'd head to bed so she could catch a few hours rest before Harry went to bed and his earth-shaking snoring began. "Working?"
"Puttering," Tara answered, not looking up for fear of giving her feelings away.
"Something wrong?" Gram put her glasses back on.
She couldn't fool Gram. Tara raised her gaze to meet her grandmother's. "You shouldn't have tricked me into seeing Ryan, Gram."
Gram hedged. "I didn't exactly trick you. I told you the dressing man was coming."
Tara shot her an arch look.
Gram looked sheepish. "Okay, you're right. I pulled one over on you and it wasn't fair of me. I'm sorry." She paused. "I'd just like to see the two of you make peace."
Tara softened. "I know you do. But if we do, it'll be in our own time and on our own terms."
Gram nodded. "Point taken."
From his well-worn recliner, Harry watched a basketball game on the HDTV her mother had given him for his birthday. He hooted at a three-pointer. His chair sat at a ninety-degree angle to the sofa, with the TV across from it.
Tara glanced at her grandfather. He looked happy as he watched his game, but old. Very old. And he had the volume up too loud.
"Harry! Turn that down." Gram shook her head at him and frowned.
"What? I'm trying to watch the game."
"And I'm trying to talk to our granddaughter without yelling." She handed him his TV Ears. He scowled, but put them on and turned the volume down.
Gram smiled at Tara, changing topics. "I'm glad you could shut the office down and come here for a few weeks. Especially with your parents off on that Christmas cruise. I didn't like the thought of you being without family for the holidays."
Her parents had invited Tara along. She could have been on that cruise, too, avoiding the painful memories of this sad anniversary. But she was trying to do the right thing and help her grandparents. They weren't making it easy, though.
"Me too. Fortunately, there's not much going on in the brand and marketing consulting business this time of year. Everyone's waiting for next year's budget." She could afford to close the office until after New Year's. Then it was hit-it-hard time.
Gram started to chuckle. "You sure scared Ryan today. You should have seen the look on his face when you greeted him like that!"
Gram's gentle laugh was contagious. Even though she still felt embarrassed and confused, Tara couldn't help smiling just a little. "Yeah? He did look kind of stunned, like one of Grandpa's stuffed deer heads." Tara pointed a finger at Gram. "It's your fault, you know. You hung the mistletoe." She paused. "I was trying to teach you a lesson about playing matchmaker. You're not mad at me?"
Gram chuckled some more. "Well, I didn't raise your mother to raise a brazen hussy, but I could tell you were only teasing. So I guess that's okay."
"Then I guess I'll forgive you for not telling me he's the dressing man and conveniently not mentioning he's the new resident Grandpa modified the sign for."
Her grandmother winced.
"Yes, I noticed the sign," Tara continued. "You can't believe I wouldn't?"
Gram shrugged and had the sense to look guilty.
"You've kept him an awful secret. Why haven't you mentioned him?"
"We know how you feel about him, dear." Gram's voice was soft. She looked thoughtful and concerned. She paused. "We didn't want his return to keep you away from Echo Bay."
"Oh, Gram! Ryan wouldn't keep me away from you and Grandpa." But even as she spoke the words, Tara knew she was lying. "How long has he been back?"
Gram bit her lip and squinted in thought, looking upward. "Oh, late this summer or early this fall. Maybe three, four months now."
How in the world did Gram keep that a secret for so long? Tara wondered.
"What's he doing here?" Tara hoped she sounded casual, like she was just asking about idle gossip. "Why'd he come back now?"
"I couldn't say. You'll have to ask him." Gram smiled innocently, giving Tara the impression she knew more than she was saying.
"Give the boy a chance, Tara," Gram continued in an almost pleading tone. "He's grown up and matured. Bob Hopkins thinks the world of him at Copper Creek. Bob said Ryan's already made production improvements that have saved them nearly a hundred thousand dollars. Did some things his own son Charlie would never think of. Bob may spoil that son of his, but he's never overlooked his shortcomings.
"Ryan's been a good neighbor to us, too. He helps Harry around the resort and takes him out fishing in that new bass boat of his. And then there's my cookbook, that was his idea." Gram stared at her, watching Tara closely.
Gram looked so pleased about the cookbook. Tara couldn't bring herself to say anything against Ryan just then. "He told me he bought the old Tucker place."
Ryan had always liked it for its view, claiming if he ever bought it, he'd build a wrap-around deck on it and live out there.
"It's tiny. Maybe nine hundred square feet tops." Tara
had always said that if they bought it, they'd have to add on when they had children. Tara tried not to think about Ryan fixing the cabin up for a future family. She knew he was still single, but not whether he was involved with someone. "I suppose it's big enough for a bachelor."
Gram nodded. "Plenty of room for him right now. As far as I know, he's not seeing anyone." She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Don't worry about the cabin. Ryan has big plans for it. He's fixing it up."
"You mean building a deck around it?"
Gram smiled but didn't answer.
"He's been helping Grandpa?"
Harry didn't even flinch at the mention of his name. He was too involved in his game, or maybe he simply couldn't hear her.
Gram shot a glance in the direction of her husband and nodded. "Grandpa appreciates it, too."
Tara's frown deepened. For as long as she could remember, Harry had been kind-hearted, but independent. He helped others, not the other way around.
Gram yawned again. "Time for bed." She rose slowly to her feet. She'd never been known for her fleetness of foot, but she seemed particularly stiff and slow now.
She walked over to Tara and ruffled her hair like she had when Tara was little.
Tara looked up at her grandmother. "You've forgiven Ryan?"
Tara didn't have to explain. Gram knew what she meant.
"What's there to forgive? What happened to Chad was an accident. Nobody's fault. You both did all you could to save him. Grandpa and I know that."
Gram paused as if measuring her words. "Ryan lost his best friend...and a big part of himself when Chad died. Don't be too hard on him." She kissed her fingers, then tapped them on the top of Tara's head, transferring the kiss. "'Night, kiddo."
If only Gram knew. It was Ryan's fault. And hers. If they all hadn't drunk too much. If he and Tara hadn't been fighting so Chad had to step in and try to calm them down. If they hadn't all started arguing and screaming at each other. If they all hadn't headed down the slope angry and distracted just as a storm kicked up. None of this would have happened.
Christmas Duet: A Big City, Small Town Christmas Romance Bundle Page 18
