“Doesn’t matter.” A single tear escaped and slipped down her cheek, so she quickly brushed it away. “I just wanted you to understand that you and I will never be together. I only told my parents we were dating because they worry about me, and they want me to be happy again. You and I had just had dinner the other night when my mother called, and I saw it as a way to ease her concerns. I shouldn’t have involved you in this.” Although, why had she? Especially when she’d been trying to avoid him. Maybe it was because Ryan was different from any other man she’d ever known? She wanted to trust him even though she shouldn’t get involved and give him the wrong impression.
“No problem.” Ryan slipped his arm around her, but didn’t move any closer because Sherlock was still snoozing between them.
Ryan remained silent while running his hand slowly up and down her arm. An urge to lay her head on his shoulder and let her tears fall filled her. Instead she blocked out the feelings and cleared her throat. “Now that you know the truth, if you’d like to change your mind about all this, I’ll understand.”
“Nope.” Ryan’s jaw clenched ever so slightly. “Where is your ex-husband now?”
Incarcerated in a psych ward in New York. “On the East Coast.”
“Good.” He gave her arm one last quick up-and-down rub. When he laid a sweet kiss on the top of her head, more tears threatened. “Goodnight, fake girlfriend.”
Her lips reluctantly tilted. “Night.”
She slowly rose and gathered up her sleepy pup. After she’d locked the door behind her, her cell phone dinged with a text.
It was from Ryan. I’d never let anyone hurt you, Tara. You’re safe here.
God, she hoped so.
She leaned her forehead on the wooden door and let her pent-up tears flow for the baby she’d been carrying when Spencer had attacked her. It had been a boy. His name would have been Sean.
When the edge of Ryan’s king-sized bed dipped with someone’s weight the next morning, he slowly cracked an eye open. Too bad it wasn’t Tara.
He needed to start locking his damn door.
Glancing at the clock, and then at his siblings surrounding his bed, he said, “All of you before six a.m.?”
He sat up and leaned against the headboard as Meg yawned and laid her head down on the spare pillow beside him. “Blame them. I told them you wouldn’t really leave. Wake me when there’s coffee.”
Casey sat on the edge of his side of the bed while Ben stood with his arms crossed at the foot.
Ben said, “What’s this BS about you moving away, Ry?”
Meg, with her eyes still closed, said, “Grandma said she saw Tara’s fancy BMW here last night. I’d rather hear about that.”
Casey tilted her head. “Really? Something going on with you and Tara?”
“I saw him kiss her yesterday.” Ben’s voice rose two octaves as he added, “On the forehead. It was all so sweet.”
Ryan threw his pillow at his brother. “Tara and I are just friends. She’s going to give me some dating tips for when I move to Denver.”
Ben caught the pillow and then threw it back. “Dating tips? Right. Perfect excuse to spend more time with her. I like it.”
That would be an added side benefit. If she hadn’t just told him a relationship between them was out of the question.
Casey said, “Why are you thinking of leaving, Ryan? Is it Dad?”
Meg snorted. “Dad’s the reason I left a time or two. Weirdly, it doesn’t help. He finds ways to annoy you from afar. Trust me.”
“It’s not Dad. I just want a change of scenery. And people.”
“People?” Casey’s eyes narrowed. “You mean women. Tara would be a reason to stay, I’d think.”
She would be, but not if she didn’t want him. Been there, done that. “I haven’t heard back about the job I really want. I doubt I’ll take this one.” He’d decided that was the reason for his unrest since he’d read the e-mail. It wasn’t about leaving.
Meg finally opened her eyes and sat up. “I always thought you stayed because of Sarah. In case Ed’s temper got out of hand?”
That was true, but he’d never told anyone. His sisters were like mind readers. “I can’t wait around for Sarah anymore. I need to move on.”
“You do need to move on.” Casey patted his arm. “But I’d rather you stayed here and did it. We’ll miss you too much.”
Meg frowned. “How come I never got a speech like that when I was thinking of leaving?”
Ben said, “Because you needed to leave to grow up. Ryan came out of the womb an old man.”
“True. So back to Tara . . .” Meg slid closer and stared at him with a mischievous grin. “You really like her. I can tell.”
He and Meg had always been the closest, being the two youngest and only a few years apart in age. Casey and Ben were older and had to be more like parents, rather than siblings, at times. “Yeah. But she says she’s not interested in long-term relationships.”
Meg punched his shoulder. “Then it’s your job to make her see how awesome you are and change her mind. That means you need to stick around to do it. My work is done here.”
Meg slid off the bed and grabbed Ben’s arm. “Come on, you two. We said our piece. Tara will be here any minute and we don’t want to be in the way.”
“Please reconsider.” Casey sent him a weak smile as she rose to leave too.
Ryan called out to their retreating backs, “How the hell did you know about Tara coming over?”
Meg said, “Tara texted Eric last night and asked if he could take Sherlock for the morning. Guess her mom isn’t keen on dogs. And Tara wanted to help with breakfast.” Meg stopped in the doorway while the others kept going. “I get the wanting to leave, Ry. But it’s not the same in Denver. I got really lonely sometimes, even when I was surrounded by people. There’s something to be said for knowing people your whole life. As annoying as it can be to live here, I guarantee you’ll miss it. Good luck with Tara. We’re all rooting for you guys.” Meg lifted a hand and disappeared out the door.
Yeah, but it could be just as lonely living in the same small town with the second woman he wanted but could never have.
But was Meg right? Tara had been through something bad; it was no wonder she’d decided to retreat from real relationships. He’d done the same in the past, but it hadn’t lasted. Should he try to change Tara’s mind about dating?
He had feelings for Tara he’d like to get to the bottom of. And if something more developed between them, he wouldn’t mind adopting a great kid like Eric. Tara seemed to like kids even though she couldn’t have them.
Could he change her mind about dating him?
Or would that be making the same mistake he’d made with Sarah all over again?
The fragrance of smoky bacon mixed with roasted coffee beans called to Tara like a siren’s song as she approached Ryan’s front porch. It made her mouth water.
The front door stood open so she tapped on the screen. When there was no answer, she called out, “Ryan? It’s Ja . . . Tara.” She’d almost slipped and said her real name. Probably because she’d heard it so often in the last twenty-four hours. Her parents refused to call her Tara when no one else was around. She needed to stay on her toes until they left.
When there was still no answer, she tested the screen door. It wasn’t locked. Had he gotten called away? Maybe he’d left the door unlocked for her?
Tentatively stepping inside, she called out his name again.
A pair of bare feet appeared on the stairs. “Sorry. Running behind.”
Ryan wore a pair of jeans and nothing else. His hair was damp, like he’d just gotten out of the shower.
Holy crap! The man was built like a well-trained athlete. It made her mouth water all over again. “Stop right there.”
Ryan’s foot halted midair as he frowned at her
in confusion.
“That look is perfect for cooking for your real girlfriend. But since it’s me, please turn around and go put on a shirt.”
“Am I distracting you, Tara?” Ryan’s lips tilted into a slow, naughty grin.
Distraction was too mild a word. More like downright attraction. She didn’t need any more of that. “Yes. Now, go.”
“Always this bossy in the morning?”
His smile hadn’t dimmed, and it made her want to smile right back at him. “I’m worried if my mother gets that eyeful she’ll leave my father and propose to you. You made quite the impression last night.”
Ryan chuckled and started back up the steps. “Coffee’s ready.”
Tara went to the kitchen and searched the cabinets until she found the mugs. He hadn’t saved the dishes for her to do from the night before, but there’d probably be plenty to clean after breakfast. She hoped he’d let her do them. She felt like she was always one favor behind the man.
Tara grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and filled them. She took her coffee black and as strong as she could get it. Hopefully it would taste as great as it smelled.
While rubbing her sore neck, she took the first sip. She hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before on her uncomfortable, two-inches-too-short couch. A Murphy bed for her office was going on the shopping list.
When the bold, rich flavor of Ryan’s coffee hit her tongue, she nearly moaned with pleasure. Closing her eyes, she savored the sensation.
“Good?” Ryan asked.
She opened her eyes. “Yummy!” He looked pretty darn yummy too, but she needed to knock it off and get serious about breakfast.
Ryan had left his dark-blue button-down shirt untucked. The top two buttons stood open, displaying his strong neck muscles, and he’d rolled the sleeves up to show off his toned forearms. Putting a shirt on hadn’t dimmed his attractiveness in the least.
She handed over his mug.
“Thanks.”
He drank his coffee black too, apparently, because he took a long, slow drink.
She asked, “What can I do to help?”
“After seeing your poor knife skills yesterday, I think you should stick to dentistry.”
“Ha ha. Always this funny in the morning?”
“Most people don’t get my sense of humor.” His mouth did the crooked-corner-tip thing again. He always did that when he teased.
“That’s because you’re a big, tough guy. If you want people to know you’re joking, just add one of your killer smiles.”
“Fine.” He sent her a wide, toothy grin. “Get the hell out of my way, then. Watch and learn.”
“Smart-ass,” She said as she climbed onto a barstool at the counter. “We should have a practice date that involves cooking. You could teach her, or in this case, me, how to make something special. Women think it’s pretty sexy when a guy cooks for them. It’d be a good third or fourth date thing.”
“Yeah?” Ryan cracked eggs into a bowl with one hand and then poured in some milk. His forearm flexed nicely as he whisked the mixture together. “Why not good for a first date?”
She concentrated on the whisk instead of his arm. “You won’t know each other well enough yet. It could be uncomfortable. On the first date it’s best to be somewhere busy. Busy helps the conversation flow better—gives you something to talk about.”
Ryan plopped some butter in a skillet and turned up the flame below. “I’m better at cooking than talking.”
“No way? Really?” She shot him a big fake grin.
“Now who’s the smart-ass?” Ryan dipped thick slices of Texas toast into the egg mixture before laying them in the hot pan. Then he sprinkled a little cinnamon on top. “It’s hard to find busy around here. I’m hoping Denver will be better.”
Tara took a hit of coffee as she thought about that. “If you can’t find busy, then you could be busy. Like, I’ve always thought whitewater rafting would be fun. And it’d be a good opportunity to be all I’ll protect you when she gets scared and screams like a girl.”
“Probably ruin things if I screamed like a girl too, though, huh?”
Her mug stopped halfway to her lips. “Do you?”
“No. When I scream it’s always manly.”
She laughed. “You got me that time. But you screwed up. This is where you should’ve asked me on a date because I showed interest.”
Ryan flipped the French toast over. “Tara, would you like to go whitewater rafting with me on Sunday afternoon?”
“Why, yes, Ryan, I would. Shall I wear my little red bikini?” Not that she had one of those anymore. She had to hide her scars under a one-piece these days.
His eyes cut to hers for a moment, as if checking whether she was serious, before he turned his attention back to the stove. “There’s some hiking involved. You might be more comfortable in a T-shirt and shorts over the . . . suit.”
It warmed her heart when he couldn’t say bikini.
“That is if your neck isn’t too sore to go. You’ve been rubbing it since you got here.”
Had she been? “Lumpy couch last night. I’ll be fine once the kinks are out.”
Ryan scooped the golden toasted bread from the pan. “I’m good with kinks. May I?”
“Uh. Sure.”
He circled behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders.
Ryan’s big hands gently kneaded her tight muscles while his thumbs circled in between her shoulder blades. It bordered somewhere between pain and sexy pleasure. But then, whenever they touched there was a spark and connection she’d never experienced before. “Oh my God, that feels good.”
“Which date should I save this for?”
Without thinking she blurted out, “Do this, and it’ll be the one when you sleep together for the first time.”
His husky voice whispered in her ear, “How many dates would I have to wait to get to that one, Tara?”
If she didn’t know better she’d think he was asking to sleep with her. But she’d made the ground rules clear enough. “Ummm—”
Loud knocking along with Tara’s father’s voice rang out from the porch. “Anyone home?” Her dad’s voice put an instant end to all the naughty thoughts about sleeping together.
Ryan gave her shoulders one last gentle squeeze before moving his hands away. He called out, “Come in.”
Making themselves right at home, her parents settled beside Tara at the counter. Her mom beamed a bright smile. “Good morning, Ryan. How are you today?”
“Great. Breakfast is almost ready. Coffee?”
Her father said, “Please. Black for me. Bring the sugar bowl for this one.” He tilted his thumb toward her mom.
Worried that might set off another argument between them, Tara quickly said, “So how are the wedding plans coming? Anyone panicking yet?”
Her dad grumbled, “My checkbook is panicking, that’s for sure.”
“Ignore him.” Her mom rolled her eyes for Ryan’s benefit. Then she turned and said, “Oh, by the way, Jamie, hair and makeup for the rehearsal dinner starts next Friday at four. And Laura asked me to remind you to bring the necklace you promised her for the something borrowed.”
Tara nodded. “I won’t forget.”
“Jamie?” She looked up to find Ryan staring at her.
Crap! Her mom must’ve just called her that and she hadn’t noticed.
Her mouth opened, but nothing but air escaped.
Her dad jumped in. “Nickname. Long story, but all her family calls her that. Her real name is Tara.”
Way to go, Dad. No wonder the man made the big bucks. And her real name was Tara—now. She glanced at Ryan to see if he was buying it. Didn’t look like it.
Ryan handed out the coffee, then stared into her eyes. “I like long stories.”
Her mom quickly said, “You know ho
w little girls are. They always wish they had a different name. Tara decided at a young age we were to all call her Jamie, and it stuck.” She waved a hand toward her dad. “Tara is a name from his side of the family. I never really liked it anyway.”
Her dad shrugged and drank deeply from his mug.
That part was actually true. Tara had been her beloved great-grandmother’s name. That’s why she’d chosen it. And her new last name, Carter, had been gleaned from a character in a favorite book. But her parents’ excuse seemed just a little too slick.
Dammit! Had they concocted that tale so Ryan could come to the wedding? She’d just talked to them about that earlier, pointing out how it would be impossible for him to come. Everyone at the wedding would call her Jamie. Was this her dad “fixing” everything as usual?
Ryan laid out their breakfast, quickly ate a piece of French toast, and then excused himself to get ready for work. He climbed the stairs and disappeared.
Tara leaned close to her mother and whispered, “What was that? You know Detective Bailey said to tell no one!”
Her mother nodded as she took a bite of French toast. Her dad leaned behind her and said in a low voice, “I called Detective Bailey right after you left this morning. He’d rather you skipped Laura’s wedding, but knew you wouldn’t. He approved of this plan. Oh, and Ryan’s background checks out all clear too.”
Of course Ryan’s background check was all clear. All someone had to do was ask Zeke or anyone else in town and you’d get a background check more thorough than the FBI’s. “So you two, who usually can’t agree on a single thing, are in perfect harmony when it comes to plotting behind my back?” Tara laid her fork down and crossed her arms. “Seriously? You should have talked to me about this first. Now Ryan is just going to have more questions.”
Her mother shook her head. “We thought you’d be happy to have your new boyfriend there. And you know we’re only inviting family and very close friends. Your father will send out an e-mail to everyone warning them not to talk about your past. If Ryan asks questions at the wedding, we’ll all be on the same page. And if Ryan snoops on his own, he won’t find out your married name. He probably thinks Carter was your married name. Dad hired that top-notch firm to make all your online presence under your real married name disappear.”
It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) Page 8
