Laura laid her head on Tara’s shoulder. “Looked like Ryan had great prospects until we showed up. Sorry.”
“That was embarrassing. Let’s talk about something else, please.”
“He’s hot, Jamie. How have you not hit that yet?”
“Hit that? Are we in high school?”
“Speaking of high school behavior, when would having Gina-the-man-stealer babysit Ryan tomorrow ever be a good idea?”
“She’s our only single cousin, that’s why.”
“She’s a ho.” Laura took another sip of her martini. “If you’re not careful, she’ll have her tongue farther down Ryan’s throat than yours was just now.”
Gina was a mid-twenties, hot, red-headed, curvy bombshell. Maybe that had been a mistake.
Laura whispered, “Are you happy living in that small town? Wouldn’t you rather come live here again? Where you’re safe?”
Tara attributed the abrupt subject change to Laura’s steady martini consumption all evening. “Safe. But in jail. With guards twenty-four seven like this weekend. With Mom and Dad constantly hovering and not wanting me to go to work? No. I feel safe, yet still free in Anderson Butte. The people there are super nosy, but for the most part, really good and kind. Like Ryan.”
Laura blurted out, “Speaking of Ryan, are the sheriff’s hands rough? That’s the problem with only dating rich men. They all have soft hands. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have a big set of rough, construction-worker hands wander all over my body. Like you read about in books.”
Tara chuckled. Her sister was drunker than she’d thought. “You’re getting married tomorrow. It’s no time to be thinking about a different set of hands all over your body.”
“It’s the perfect time.” Laura paused for another long drink. “It’s the last night I’ll ever be single. So answer the question, please.”
“Yes, he has rough hands. Send Brad to visit for a week sometime, and Ryan will take him backpacking and rafting and roughen up his hands too.”
“Great idea!” her sister said with a sharp nod.
Okaaaay. Time to get Laura to bed. A hangover on her wedding day would suck.
Tara plucked the glass from Laura’s hand. “You’re officially cut off for the night, kiddo. Let’s hit the hay. Then you can dream about all the construction workers’ hands you’d like. Just be sure to stay on your own side of the bed, please.”
Laura slowly made her way out of the hot tub, and then grabbed the towel Tara held out as she said, “Don’t worry. You’re safe. You have soft hands too.” Laura laid a smacking kiss on Tara’s cheek. “I love you. Thanks for coming. I know it was a risk. Why the hell does that sick, obsessed bastard have to be so smart? It’s not fair you have to hide from him the rest of your life.”
Tara circled her arm around Laura’s waist to steady her as they headed upstairs. “What’s not fair is that you had to have your wedding here, in Fort Knox, so I could come. You should have had some lavish affair in Italy or something. With more than our closest family and friends. But Spencer’s wealth still provides him minions Detective Bailey worries about. So I’m sorry about that.”
Laura shook her head. “It doesn’t matter where we get married. Just that we do. Who’d have ever thought I’d marry good old reliable Brad?”
Tara had always hoped for it. “He’s the best. And that’s what you deserve. I’m happy for you guys.”
Laura sighed as she leaned even harder on Tara. “You need to ditch that stupid ‘I’ll never marry again’ attitude and look at what’s right in front of you, Jamie. Ryan is freakin’ hot. And he has rough hands! How could you go wrong there?”
Tara laughed as she dragged her drunken sister up the stairs to her room. Laura had a point about Ryan’s hands. They’d felt pretty nice earlier.
Damn her sister. She’d pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow, but Tara was going to lay awake all night and think about Ryan’s rough hands roaming all over her body.
The next afternoon, about an hour before the wedding was supposed to start, Ryan stood on the balcony overlooking the lawn where the chairs and the tents were set up.
After dealing with more texts from Mike, he’d done a quick search for Tara’s engagement announcement last night, but couldn’t find one that matched. Frustrating. But he’d dig deeper when he got home and could use some of the resources available at his office.
A man in charge of the suits below gave instructions to two guys. He pointed to the nearby trees. Ryan had seen four others disappear into different parts of the surrounding woods earlier. There was tighter security than the UN probably had.
What the hell were they so afraid of? Could the ex-husband in the loony bin, as Mildred had said, be that dangerous? Was that part even true? Tara had said her ex was on the east coast.
Making his way to the backyard, Ryan navigated the maze of doors and corridors until he finally stood next to the guy in charge. Ryan held out his hand. “Sheriff Ryan Anderson.”
“John Bailey.” He returned the shake. “Nice to meet you, Sheriff.”
“You private or with the force?”
Bailey glanced at Ryan. “I’m with Denver PD, but Mr. McDaniel is friends with the mayor, who asked me to oversee the security detail today.”
“Big operation. What’s the threat?”
“Not at liberty to say.”
“Got it.” Ryan studied the surrounding trees. There were guards every few feet. “I’ve been looking for a job in these parts. Know of any?”
“Why would a sheriff of a small town want to move here? Seems to me you got the better gig.”
So the man knew who he was. “Can be a little too quiet. Looking to be a detective.”
Bailey studied him for a minute. “Well, tell you what.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to Ryan. “Call me next week, and I’ll see what we can do. We’re a little shorthanded right now. We could use a few more people in my department if they can shake loose the budget to hire some.”
Ryan read the card. Detective John Bailey. Special Crimes Unit. “Great. I’ll call you.”
“Are you carrying the gun you brought, Sheriff?”
So that’s why they took the bags so quickly. To search them. “Yep.”
“In that case, we need to come to a little understanding. You’re in charge at home, but here, all orders come from me today. Understood?”
“Got it.”
“You want to be useful? Eyes on Tara today.” He turned and walked away.
He’d already planned to stick to Tara’s side anyway.
Bailey was the only person who hadn’t called Tara Jamie. And he worked in Special Crimes. While it could vary, most cities used those units for particularly heinous acts.
That lead ball in Ryan’s belly had just become a boulder.
He turned to find Tara and almost ran into a curvy redhead carrying two drinks.
“Hi, Ryan. I’m Gina. Jamie asked me to keep you company today while she does her sister-of-the-bride thing.” She held out a glass.
“No thanks.” He wasn’t going to drink until after they got through the wedding. And whatever the possible threat might be.
“Well, that’s no fun, Sheriff.” She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to drink them both. I plan to have a good time with you today, handsome.” She arched a brow as she took a long drink.
“Thanks. But I don’t—”
“Don’t want to hurt my feelings, now, do you?” She stuck her bottom lip out and pouted.
He’d never actually seen a grown woman do that.
Dammit. He didn’t need the distraction. He needed to keep an eye on Tara. “Of course not.” He stuck his arm out. “Let’s go find a seat.”
It took all Tara had to resist the urge to hop off the raised dais at the reception and strangle her cousin. It
had been a colossal mistake to ask her to babysit Ryan. Gina’d had way too much to drink and was hanging all over him.
Laura had been right. Gina could be a little much, but Drunk Gina took being obnoxious to a whole new level. And if Gina “accidentally” rubbed that big set of fake cha-chas against him one more time . . . she was going to lose it.
Turning her attention back to the best man’s speech, Tara forced her shoulders to relax. She should be thankful. Everything had gone perfectly so far. No rain or wind. The night was clear and starry, and her speech had gone well a few moments ago. So after the best man finished his long-winded ramble, her duties would be done. That left only cake and dancing on the evening’s agenda. Best of all, there’d been no surprises from Spencer. Hopefully it’d stay that way until they left in the morning. She missed Anderson Butte, and Sherlock. She looked forward to being home again.
Laura leaned over and whispered, “You’re looking a little green around the gills there, Jamie. Jealous?”
As the best man droned on, she whispered back, “No. Ryan and I aren’t even in a relationship.” She wasn’t jealous. That’d be ridiculous. She was just annoyed at her cousin’s rude behavior toward Ryan.
Laura chuckled. “You may not think you’re in a relationship, but I’ll bet the sheriff would disagree. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you all night.”
Yeah, she’d noticed that. It made her smile. “He’s probably been fantasizing about all the ways he’s going to make me pay for saddling him with Gina.”
Laura rolled her eyes. “What he’s fantasizing about is how to get you naked. Wait. It just got worse. Gina’s got her hand on his leg. Won’t be long before she hits the intended target.”
Tara leaned closer to her sister to get a better view. Sure enough. Ryan’s big hand caught Gina’s to stop it. That was it. “I’m—”
“Definitely jealous. Go!”
“Am not.” Tara frowned at her sister before she quietly slipped off the stage and headed for her intended target. Ryan’s lap. That’d put an end to it all. And she wasn’t jealous, dammit! She was just . . . okay. Maybe a little jealous. But mostly just mad at her cousin.
She moved quickly down a side aisle and then weaved her way between the tables set up on the grass. The big smile on Ryan’s face as she approached cut her anger in half. Whenever he did that she couldn’t help but smile right back.
Ryan stood and slipped his arm around her waist. “Gina. Excuse us, please.” He guided Tara toward the house.
“Sorry about Gina, Ryan.”
He kept on tugging.
“Where are we going?”
“Anywhere Gina’s not. And where I can get you alone.”
She’d been watching him for hours in his dark, nicely fitting suit with his crisp white shirt and pretty blue tie, fending off her cousin. And only having eyes for her. She was all for being alone with him. “Let’s go to the library.”
He opened a French door for her and stood aside. “Lead the way.”
Tara took his hand, taking extra note of its sexy roughness thanks to her sister, and headed toward the library as fast as her heels and tight dress would allow. She felt like a teenager again, sneaking around the staff to find a place to kiss her boyfriend.
As soon as they were inside the room lit only with soft moonlight, she quickly closed the doors behind them.
Using his whole body, he slowly pressed her against the wooden door. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day.” He framed her face with his hands and drew her mouth to his. The kiss was urgent and deep, making it clear how much he wanted her.
She slipped her hands under his suit coat around his waist and snuggled closer. He had a gun strapped to his lower back. Why would he bring a gun to a wedding? She didn’t want to stop kissing him long enough to ask about it. Probably just a cop habit.
When they leaned back slightly for some much-needed air, the hunger in his gaze stole what little breath she had left. His darkened eyes and his sexy five o’clock stubble made him pretty much irresistible.
Still staring deeply into her eyes, he slid his hands along her cheeks and into her hair. His lips twitched as if he knew what she was thinking about him before his mouth covered hers and he kissed her. He pressed his big, powerful body against hers as if he couldn’t get close enough.
The man kissed like no one else.
As his hands wandered her body their kisses became more urgent. She needed to make her decision. Was she going to sleep with him?
His mouth left her lips and slowly trailed soft kisses down her neck, confusing the situation even more. Then his mouth found hers again, and she kissed him back with equal intensity.
When his hand slipped up her thigh and under her dress, the stakes grew higher. He gave her bottom, barely covered by the tiny thong she wore, a gentle squeeze, sealing the deal. She was going to sleep with him. “Do you have protect—”
“Yes.”
“This’ll be just sex, right? Nothing serious?”
He whispered in her ear, “It’s whatever you decide it’ll be.”
That was all she needed to hear. Her hands dove for his belt buckle and got busy unclasping, untucking, and unzipping while he hiked up her dress and slipped off her panties.
When he lifted her up, pressing her back firmly against the doors, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
It’d be quick this way, and he wouldn’t see her scars. Perfect for their first time.
He nibbled on her bottom lip as he stared into her eyes. “We’ll take it slower—next time.”
The longing in his gaze sent a warm shiver up her spine. Slower would be fine, but for now, she wanted quickie sex against the door with Ryan. It made her feel decadent and . . . desired. Attractive for the first time in way too long.
He smiled as he trailed his fingertips along her jaw. “So beautiful.”
Then he kissed the sensitive skin just in front of her ear, his teeth softly nibbling her lobe as he entered her. He went slowly at first, letting her body that hadn’t been with a man in three years adjust to him. Then he gently increased the pace. Drawing out each long stroke and driving her insane with need.
His body, hard against hers, radiated with lust, desire, and pure strength as he buried his face in her neck. It drove her wild and she ached for more.
She wanted to kiss him again so she drew his mouth to hers. When she nipped his bottom lip, he let out a sexy groan she felt in her gut. Her whole body pressed harder against his, silently asking for more. She wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate.
As if reading her mind, he leaned back, closed his eyes, and picked up the pace. Hard and fast—just what her body asked for. She slid her hands into his thick hair and kissed him again, losing herself in the delicious, sensual pleasure. When she opened her eyes, she found him staring at her, with need and . . . did he feel the same thing she suddenly did? Something more than carnal desire. Something that made her heart warm as she stared back into his enticing blue eyes.
But it’d been far too long for her—her body screamed for release. She’d just barely hung on until she couldn’t take it anymore. With her body tightening around his, clenching harder with each stroke, she let her head fall against the wood at her back. “Ryan, I can’t—”
“Together.” His gruff voice whispered.
When he drove home one last, hard stroke, she gasped as he called out her name and tumbled over the edge along with her.
As she panted for air, recovering from the most intense sex she’d ever had, he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers, their chests heaving against each other’s.
After a few seconds he drew in a deep breath and whispered, “You okay?”
“Mm hmm.” She ran her hands through his thick hair that she’d messed up, finger combing it back into order. “But we better get back before they miss us.” H
ow long had they been gone? That had to have been quick, but she felt completely sated.
He slowly released her, giving her butt a pat as she slid down his body. “Do we have to?”
“Look on the bright side. There’ll be cake. And dancing.”
“And Drunk Gina.”
“Nope. You’re all mine for the rest of the night.”
He pulled her against him, wrapping her up tight. “I’m all yours as long as you’ll have me, Tara.”
She closed her eyes and snuggled into his warm embrace. Keeping her emotions out of things had been the plan, but now her heart glowed with new, even deeper desire for him. What they’d just shared hadn’t been only about hot, quickie sex, but she didn’t want to examine it any closer at the moment.
She leaned back and gave him a kiss before leading the way to the bathroom.
When she opened the door, the light automatically came on in the mirrored vanity area, blinding her for a moment. After her eyes adjusted, she stared at their reflection. They made a nice, if not totally disheveled, picture of two people flushed with satisfaction from a quick roll in the hay. They needed to fix that, pronto. “You can go first.” She pointed to the door on the right.
She needed a moment to pull herself together.
Had that been a mistake? Or the best thing she’d ever allowed herself to do? Ryan was considerate, sweet, funny, and . . . no, she wouldn’t even consider it. He wasn’t perfect for her. She’d thought that about Spencer and look where that’d gotten her.
No more thinking. It was fantastic sex, nothing more. She deserved that after her long drought.
After finding a tissue, she wiped away the stray mascara under her eyes. Her French braid was hopelessly ruined, so she took it down and ran her fingers through the tangled mess. One of her earrings was missing, so she took out the remaining one. Hopefully no one would notice with her hair loose.
She smoothed out her dress the best she could and figured it was as good as it was going to get. She’d hunt down her clutch and find her lipstick first thing.
Ryan reappeared. “Why there’d be a jet tub and a steam shower in the library bathroom escapes me.”
It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) Page 15
