by Teri Wilson
It would have been so damned easy to seek solace in the sweetness of her kiss, in the warm tenderness of her body. Ryan hadn’t been with a woman in years. He and Maggie had stopped sleeping together long before her accident. He barely remembered what it was like to have someone want him, really want him.
There was something in Amanda’s eyes, though—a hot spark of yearning every time she looked at him that reminded him what it meant to be a man. It was like gazing into a mirror and seeing all of his own pent-up desire looking back at him. And he knew...he just knew...that if he ever took her to bed, there would be no turning back. He’d never get enough of her. Ever.
They couldn’t go there. Not now.
He didn’t want to give her his brokenness. If and when he made love to Amanda Sylvester, he wanted to come to her as a whole man. A complete man. A man who could offer her more than what little he had left of his soul to give.
So he squeezed his eyes shut tight and responded in an aching, anguished whisper.
“Good night.”
Ryan, will you marry me?
The words spun round and round in Amanda’s head as she turned onto her side in Ryan’s bed and buried her face in his pillow. It smelled like him—warm and woodsy. She wanted to breathe it in, as if it could somehow bring her closer to him. Because even though she’d somehow managed to utter those outrageous words, she’d felt like an imposter stretched out on his plush king-size mattress. A fake.
Maybe because that’s exactly what you are.
They weren’t actually getting married. Of course not. She hadn’t even had to spell things out for Ryan when Dan had gotten up from the booth to visit the men’s room. He’d lifted his gaze to hers and she’d known with utmost certainty that he hadn’t believed her for a minute. He thought she pitied him, that’s all. He thought she’d proposed to him out of a desperate move to help him keep custody of his son, which was technically true.
Mostly.
There was more to her feelings for Ryan than mere empathy. She felt so many things for the man that she couldn’t begin to identify all her emotions. She only knew that the thought of him losing Dillon made her sick with grief. It couldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it.
Dillon worshipped Ryan. Couldn’t he see it? Even before they’d adopted Tucker, the little boy’s gaze never left his father. In his own quiet way, he’d clung to Ryan. She knew Ryan thought that Tucker had been the one to bring Dillon out of his shell, but she knew better. Ryan had done the work—all the heavy lifting. Tucker had simply given Dillon the last little push he needed.
She wished she could hate the Brewsters. A hefty dose of rage would probably do her a world of good right now. It definitely would make it easier to forget the sadness she’d seen in Ryan’s eyes when she’d kissed him good-night—a sadness so profound, so deep that she wondered if there was any way for him to come back from it.
Try as she might, though, she couldn’t muster an ounce of hatred toward Ryan’s former in-laws. Sure, they were some of the most horrible and unreasonable people she’d ever come across. But she suspected that the two individuals she’d met at the barbecue cook-off weren’t the real Finch and Annabelle. They were what happened to parents when they lost a child in an unexpected, tragic way. They were mired in grief, lashing out at Ryan because he was the easiest target for the pain they wanted so badly to purge.
Couldn’t they see what they were doing? If they went through with the lawsuit and somehow ended up tearing Dillon away from Ryan, they would ensure that Ryan suffered the same kind of irreparable loss they’d been living with since the day Maggie died. No parent was ever prepared for the loss of a child.
But Ryan wouldn’t lose Dillon. Her spontaneous proposal ensured he wouldn’t, and even though there was a small part of her that wished Ryan would have believed it had been genuine, she didn’t regret it for a minute. She’d done the right thing, and if she’d had to choose all over again, she’d say the same exact words.
Ryan, will you marry me?
What could possibly go wrong?
* * *
Amanda stepped into the Furever Paws lobby the following day for her regular weekly dog walking shift and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Wow.” Her gaze flitted from the plastic sheeting covering the floor to the ladders set up around the lobby and finally to Rebekah Taylor sitting behind the counter at the information desk. “You don’t waste any time, do you?”
Rebekah grinned. “Thanks to you, we’ve got the funds to whip this place back into shape. So we may as well get started on the repairs.”
“It wasn’t just me. The entire town came together to make this happen.” Amanda set two paper coffee cups with the Main Street Grille logo printed on them on the counter and slid one toward Rebekah. “It’s hazelnut. I thought caffeine might be in order since you’re dealing with sawing and hammering all day in addition to a dozen barking dogs and a roomful of nervous cats.”
“Well, since you put it that way.” Rebekah reached for the coffee and took a long swallow. “Ah, thank you.”
Amanda peered toward the hallway at the back of the lobby that led to the kennel area. “Seriously, how are the animals doing with all of this chaos?”
“Pretty good, actually. The dogs aren’t the problem.” Her cheeks flared pink.
Interesting. Amanda narrowed her gaze. “What exactly is the problem, then?”
“Grant Whitaker.” Rebekah pulled a face as if the name left a bad taste in her mouth. “Sorry, I know he’s Birdie and Bunny’s nephew and he seems to care for them a great deal, but the man is driving me insane.”
“He’s still here? I thought he only came up from Florida for the weekend to help out at the barbecue. Shouldn’t he be back in Jacksonville by now?”
“He postponed his trip for a few days so he could spy on me,” Rebekah said primly.
Amanda laughed. “Come on. That can’t be true.”
“No, really. I don’t think he trusts me. He’s like a dog who thinks I’ve come onto his territory to steal all his bones. I don’t have any idea what I did to give him the impression that I might take advantage of his aunts. I’m here because I love animals and want to help them.” Rebekah took another sip of her coffee and Amanda noticed her earrings were shaped like little paw prints.
“I’m sure he realizes that. The sisters are certainly glad you’re here. When I talked to Birdie and Bunny after the cook-off on Saturday they had nothing but great things to say about you.” They’d also waxed poetic about Doc J, but that was nothing new. “Don’t worry about Grant. Like you said, he’s leaving soon anyway.”
“But he’ll be back again before long. He wants to help with the rebuilding.”
That was probably for the best, considering Gator had dropped the ball on the insurance. Maybe Grant wanted to keep a closer eye on things to make sure nothing else was amiss with the business end of things.
But Amanda wasn’t about to share the Whitakers’ personal family business with Rebekah, no matter how much she liked her. She had a feeling they might end up as friends—actual friends, as opposed to whatever she and Ryan were at the moment.
“If Grant will be spending more time in Spring Forest, I’m sure you two will eventually learn to like each other.” Amanda winked. “He’s really not that bad. I promise.”
“I believe you. You brought me delicious hazelnut coffee, so I’m sure you’re trustworthy.”
“Maybe you should try that with Grant since he seems skeptical about you. Just a thought,” Amanda said, only half joking. Who didn’t love hazelnut?
Rebekah laughed, then switched her attention to the ringing telephone. “Furever Paws.”
Amanda made her way to the kennel area, marveling at the fact that the repairs to the roof were already underway. A few of the other local businesses that had sustained damage in the storm had also begun construction
.
After the tornado whirled through town, she’d kept thinking about the twister in the movie The Wizard of Oz and how it transported Dorothy and Toto to a magical new land over the rainbow where daring adventures awaited them. Everything was more vivid and colorful than it had been before.
Sometimes she felt like that’s what had happened to her and Tucker when the storm hit Spring Forest. Overnight, everything changed. At first, it had been terrifying, but maybe she just hadn’t realized how much she’d needed her life to be spun around and infused with color. Since the tornado struck, she’d helped Tucker get out of the shelter once and for all. She’d put together a fundraiser that had brought people together from all over the state for a common purpose. In a way, she’d finally moved past the Sadie Hawkins incident. If she could fake-propose to a man without getting sick to her stomach, she might eventually end up in a real romantic relationship.
She liked the way her life had changed, and as much as she wanted Furever Paws to put itself back together, it suddenly felt as if time was spinning backward. Everything was slowly but surely returning to normal. Unlike Dorothy, Amanda wasn’t trying to get back to the way things had been before. She didn’t want to go home—not if it meant giving up everything she’d discovered in the wake of the tornado.
Especially Ryan and Dillon.
But some things were too good to be true. Intellectually, she knew that, just as she knew that Ryan wasn’t really her fiancé. They were pretending for the sake of the lawsuit. They’d simply told Dillon she was staying over for a few days because her apartment was being painted. The little boy had been through enough turmoil—he didn’t need to be dragged into their faux romance unless it became absolutely necessary. She’d cooked them breakfast this morning and kissed Dillon’s soft little cheek when he’d left for school, but they weren’t her family and eventually she’d have to go home.
Just like Dorothy, because in the end even Oz turned out to be nothing but a dream.
Chapter Thirteen
It was the little things about sharing his home with Amanda that got to Ryan the most—the unexpected things, the bittersweet surprises that made him realize how easy it would be to blend their separate lives into one.
He learned to brace himself for the irresistible sight of her in her cute little pajamas in the mornings, just as he knew better than to linger too long when she kissed him good-night. It was never more than an innocent peck, just like the one she’d given him on the very first night. But somehow those chaste kisses sharpened his hunger for her even more fiercely than if she’d given him a full openmouthed kiss.
So he knew to simply hold his breath and concentrate all his energy into not touching her until it was over and the moment had passed. It never got any easier, though. If anything, it took longer and longer for his inevitable erection to recede as those first few days turned into a full week of living together.
But again, the moments that caught him off guard were the ones that ended up feeling as if they’d grabbed him by the throat and refused to let go—like the first time he’d opened the door to his closet and seen her soft jeans and flirty little dresses hanging side by side next to his tailored suits and starched oxford shirts. Or the time they’d shared the bathroom sink and brushed their teeth together, locking gazes in the mirror. And the night Dillon had woken up in tears, shaken by a nightmare, and Ryan had found Amanda curled beside him in his tiny twin bed the next morning.
Those were the little intimacies that strung together like pearls on a string, one after another, eventually building a life. A home. A family.
How could he have forgotten? He’d been married for most of his adult life. But it had been such a long time since he’d felt any real connection to Maggie that he’d grown accustomed to a solitary existence. For the last few years of their marriage, they’d merely coexisted.
But now...
Now he’d been plunged into a world of spun sugar domestic bliss, all wrapped up and tied with a ribbon of barely contained desire. And he liked it, damn it. He liked it far more than he should have.
“Mr. Carter, shall I lock up or will you be working late?” Jonah lingered in the doorway of Ryan’s office with his messenger bag slung over his shoulder.
Ryan glanced at the time display in the upper right-hand corner of his computer screen. It was nearly six o’clock, hardly late compared to the hours he’d kept when he worked at the Post. But he wasn’t in DC anymore. He was in Spring Forest, and he didn’t want to be sitting behind a desk at the paper when his son had already been done school for hours.
Then why are you here?
Because he was hiding, that’s why. He was avoiding the cozy scene at home before it broke him. He wasn’t ready for another relationship, and even though the one he had with Amanda was only a charade, it was beginning to feel more real than anything he’d had in a long, long time. She picked Dillon up from school and cooked their meals. She didn’t have to do those things, but she did.
Ryan pushed his chair away from his desk and stood. “I’ll walk out with you, Jonah.”
Falling back into old habits and pouring himself into his work wasn’t the answer. He knew that. Plus Dillon was having his first official playdate tonight. The Sutton girls had invited him over for pizza and ice cream. Ryan wanted to be home when Dan came to pick him up in case Dillon got nervous and changed his mind about going.
“After you, sir.” Jonah gestured for Ryan to step in front of him.
Sir again. He gave the young man a withering stare.
Jonah cleared his throat. “I mean...um...let’s go. Um, Ryan.”
“Better.” He laughed and clapped Jonah on the back. “We’ll get there.”
He pulled his car onto the sun-dappled streets of Kingdom Creek with a half hour to spare before Dillon left for the Suttons’ house. Amanda was taking advantage of her brother-in-law Paul’s extended time at the Grille and had come home early, excited to teach Dillon how to make some kid-friendly hors d’oeuvres to take with him on his playdate. Last night she’d mapped out an elaborate plan that included sausage sticks and bread dough arranged to look like little sleeping dogs. Ryan had done a double take when he’d seen how closely they resembled Tucker.
But when he turned the SUV into the driveway, he found Amanda and Dillon in the front yard instead of the kitchen. Tucker was there too, looking grumpier than Ryan had ever seen him before, sitting in a tub full of soapsuds while Dillon patted him down with a giant yellow sponge.
Ryan sat behind the wheel for a minute, fighting the pang in his chest as he took in the sight. It was straight out of a Hallmark movie—the kind where nothing bad ever happens. Where there were no car accidents or custody hearings. Where kids could just be kids and adults could love one another, free of complication.
The very best sort of make-believe.
He climbed out of the car, loosening his tie as he joined the sentimental scene. God help him, nothing about the easy grin on Dillon’s face or the way his heart skittered to a stop at the sight of Amanda’s curves in her damp clothes felt like an act. Was he still pretending? Had he ever been just putting on an act?
“What’s this?” He forced a laugh, but his voice betrayed him. The ache in his words echoed the one in his heart.
Amanda stood, peeling back a wet strand of hair from her face. “Tucker rolled in something in the backyard, and Dillon’s snacks are all packed up and ready to go, so we figured we’d give your naughty dog a bath.”
“My naughty dog?” He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her beautiful wet body up against his.
“So naughty,” Dillon said. “Daddy, he smelled so bad.”
Daddy. Ryan cleared his throat. “I guess it’s a good thing you got him all cleaned up, then.”
“Dan’s here early.” Amanda looked past Ryan and waved.
“Dillon, why don’t you run inside and dry off. Don’t forget the snacks you and Amanda made.” Ryan handed him one of the striped bath towels from the heap piled on the lawn a few feet away from the tub of soapy water.
Dillon obeyed, walking to the house with a spring in his step and a waterlogged, cantankerous Tucker sloshing behind him.
“Oh no.” Amanda stifled a laugh. “Maybe I should go grab the dog.”
“It’s okay.” Ryan winked at her. “What’s a little water on the floor?”
“You two sure look cozy,” Dan said as he crossed the lawn.
Ryan glanced at Amanda, and the blood seemed to pump faster through his veins as he registered the flush that crept across her face.
“You know...” Dan’s gaze narrowed as he studied them. “I had my doubts about the spontaneous marriage proposal, especially after you both asked me to keep the engagement a secret. But I trust my clients, and if you tell me you’re engaged, that means you’re engaged. Now I can see it, though.”
“What do you mean?” Amanda bit her bottom lip.
She did that sometimes when she was nervous. Ryan had picked up on that little tell over the past few days.
“I mean, look at you. Anyone driving down the street could tell that you’re crazy about each other. It’s written all over your faces.” He shrugged. “I’m happy for you, that’s all. Maybe you can squeeze in a date night while Dillon is over at our house tonight.”
“Date night.” Amanda’s gaze flitted toward Ryan, lingering ever so briefly on his mouth. “That sounds fun.”
Indeed it does.
“The girls are excited. I should probably get Dillon back there pretty quick before they start blowing up my phone. They’re supposed to be straightening their rooms, but when I left just now, our housekeeper seemed to be doing most of the heavy lifting.” Dan waved at Dillon as he climbed down the porch steps carrying a flat Tupperware container. “You ready, little dude?”
