by Teri Wilson
For some silly reason, she almost felt like crying.
“Good morning,” Ryan said, winking at her as he ran a dish towel over the frying pan and placed it in one of the cabinets. He gestured at the table with a flourish. “Surprise!”
She swallowed around the knot in her throat. “You made me breakfast?”
“I helped,” Dillon chimed in.
“You sure did, bud.” Then, solemnly, Ryan added, “Dillon was on biscuit duty.”
Amanda smiled. “I don’t know what to say. No one’s made breakfast for me in years.”
Ryan’s expression grew tender. Serious. And suddenly he was looking at her just like he had the night before when he’d so carefully toweled her dry.
I’m pampering you.
He was saying it to her again, only with his eyes this time, and for a brief, shining moment, she believed Oz might not be just a dream, after all. It was beginning to feel more and more like home every day.
But then Ryan’s cell blared to life. It vibrated its way across the kitchen counter, breaking the mood’s magic spell with its jarring ringtone.
He glanced at the display. “I’d better take this. It’s Dan.”
“Of course. I’ll just keep myself busy with the giant plate of bacon over there.”
He picked up the phone but before he answered it, he gave the sash of her robe a playful tug and kissed her gently on the mouth. “Hello?”
Amanda took a seat beside Dillon and plucked a strip of bacon from the plate on the table.
“What?” Ryan grew still, and Amanda knew at once that the call must be related to the custody case, but she couldn’t tell whether the news was good or bad.
“I see.” He nodded and began to pace the length of the cozy kitchen. Back and forth, back and forth. “So what would that entail, exactly?”
Amanda searched his gaze, and at last he smiled.
“Right. We can talk about that later. I’ll be in the office most of the day. Give me a call anytime. And, ah, Dan...” Ryan took a deep inhale, and for a second he looked like he might break down and weep. “Thank you...thank you so much.”
He pressed the end-call button and stared at the phone for a long moment, as if trying to wrap his mind around what had just transpired. When he finally glanced up, his smile was so broad that he looked like the weight of the world had just been lifted off his shoulders.
“The Brewsters have withdrawn the lawsuit. It’s over.”
Chapter Fifteen
“I can’t believe it.” Amanda’s head spun. She felt like she might faint. “I didn’t see this coming at all. Did you?”
Ryan raked a hand through his hair and blew out a breath. “No. Not in a million years. I’m thrilled, obviously. I think I’m just in a state of shock right now. I can’t believe it’s over.”
Over.
Amanda knew he was talking about the lawsuit, not about them. Of course she knew that. But every time he used that word, she felt a little pang in her heart. She just couldn’t help it.
“Dillon, bud,” Ryan rested a gentle hand on Dillon’s shoulder. Looking at them together made the lump in Amanda’s throat double in size. Dillon belonged with Ryan. He always had. “We have to leave for school soon. Can you go brush your teeth and get your backpack together?”
Dillon obediently climbed down from his chair and headed to the bathroom. Tucker cast a wistful glance in the general direction of the bacon, scrunched his furry brow in frustration and then trotted after the little boy.
Amanda lowered her voice to a whisper. “Now that Dillon’s gone, can you elaborate? The suspense is killing me. Did Dan say why Maggie’s parents changed their minds?”
“Apparently, they were never all that serious about wanting custody to begin with.” Ryan shook his head. “Can you believe it?”
“No, that’s awful. Why would they put you and Dillon through such a thing if they never really wanted him to live with them?”
“Dan had a long talk with their attorney in DC early this morning and she finally admitted that what the Brewsters really want is more time with Dillon. They’re upset they can’t see him as often as they did before we moved to Spring Forest. All this time, the custody suit has been nothing but a bargaining chip. Now that they’ve withdrawn the paperwork, Finch and Annabelle are hoping I’ll be amenable to scheduling regular trips for Dillon to go to DC.”
“How do you feel about that?” Amanda said.
Ryan took a deep breath. “Okay, I guess. My intention was never to keep Dillon away from his grandparents permanently. We just needed some space. I wanted to get to know my son and I couldn’t do that with them constantly breathing down my neck. Plus one of my old college professors ran the newspaper here, and he was ready to retire. He’d been my mentor for years and when he heard I was looking to get out of Washington, he offered to turn The Spring Forest Chronicle over to me. It seemed like fate.”
Their eyes met for a moment, and then he looked away.
“Dan is going to give me a call later so we can choose a date for Dillon’s first visit.” Ryan glanced at the time on his iPhone.
“If you need to get going, I can clean up the breakfast dishes.”
He shook his head. “No, no. I can’t have you cleaning up this mess. That would defeat the whole purpose of making you breakfast. Besides, you’ve done so much for us already. I’m sure you’re relieved I won’t have to rely on you so much anymore.”
She stared at him. Relieved? Was that seriously how he thought she felt? “I wanted to help you and Dillon. I have all along, since before the lawsuit even happened.”
“Sure, of course. I know that. I just meant...”
“What, exactly?” Amanda’s voice came out sharper than she’d intended, but a tight knot of panic had suddenly lodged itself in her chest and she was having trouble articulating exactly how she felt.
Probably because what she felt scared her to death.
I love him. I love them both.
Oh God, she did.
She was in love with Ryan. She’d been in love with him from the very start. Birdie and Mollie had been right all along—she had a weak spot for grumpy males, both dogs and humans alike.
No. She shook her head. She didn’t want to be in love with Ryan Carter, especially not when he was acting so strange, as if they hadn’t shared a bed last night.
Ryan sighed. “All I’m trying to say is that now that the lawsuit is over...”
She held up a hand to cut him off. “Would you please stop saying that word?”
He reared back as if she’d slapped him. “What word?”
“Over.” Her voice broke and to her complete and utter mortification, her face crumpled. Hot, humiliating tears streamed down her face.
“Don’t cry, love. Please don’t cry. Talk to me. I don’t understand why you’re so upset.” He moved to brush a tear from her cheek, and she leaned out of his reach.
She didn’t want him to touch her. Not now. If he did, she’d fall apart even worse than she already had. She was in this alone, wasn’t she?
He wasn’t in love with her.
If he were, he wouldn’t be acting as if they’d both just gotten a get-out-of-jail-free card now that they would no longer have to “pretend” to be in love.
I’m sure you’re relieved I won’t have to rely on you so much anymore.
She stood, and the chair she’d been sitting in clattered to the floor. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I think I should go.”
Ever so slowly, he righted the chair. Maybe he was just trying to calm her down and defuse the situation, but his movements were so careful and deliberate that they reminded her of the gentle way he’d dried her off yesterday. And the reverence in his fingertips when he’d raised the hem of her sodden T-shirt and lifted it tenderly over her head.
She didn’t want to thi
nk about those things right now. They hurt too much. She’d been wrong to believe she could stay in Oz when she didn’t truly belong there. She never had. Now she just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before—to a time when she could simply admire Ryan from afar without knowing what it felt like to have him move inside her or kiss her with a hunger she’d never experienced before.
But she couldn’t go back. It was too late.
He reached for the sash of her robe again and used it to pull her closer toward him, to reel her back in. Her rebellious heart skipped a beat.
This was it—the moment of truth. He didn’t have to come out and tell her he loved her. She couldn’t bring herself to say it, so it was okay if he couldn’t either. All he had to say was one word...one tiny syllable.
Stay.
He cleared his throat, and that split second of hesitation was all the indication she needed. She knew. She just knew. He wasn’t going to say it. He was going to let her walk right out the door.
“Daddy.”
Dillon entered the kitchen once again, with his backpack slung over one shoulder and Tucker nestled in his arms. Amanda’s bottom lip quivered so hard that she had to bite it and look away.
“I’m ready. I brushed my teeth just like you asked me to,” Dillon said.
“I need to get him to school,” Ryan said quietly. Then he grabbed his keys from the bowl on the kitchen counter where he always kept them, and without so much as a backward glance, he walked past her toward the foyer.
“Come on, bud. Let’s go.” He stood waiting for Dillon to catch up.
And for a second or two, Amanda was able to hold herself together. She’d already made enough of a scene. She just wanted to wait until Ryan and Dillon left. Then she could gather her things and head back to her own apartment, where she could fall apart in private.
But then she felt Dillon’s arms wrap around her legs from behind, holding her tight. And it was too much. Much more than she could take. Her heart felt like it was being ripped right out of her chest.
And then in his gentle, little boy voice, he said, “Goodbye, Amanda.”
* * *
Ryan had messed up.
He’d messed things up in a major way.
Amanda had been waiting for him to say something, and he’d done what he always did when things got too personal—he’d bolted.
He went through the motions at the office, filing stories and approving the layouts for the week’s edition of the paper. He talked to Dan and worked out a proposed schedule for Dillon to visit his grandparents at regular intervals. But while his head was at work and tied up with thoughts of the new visitation schedule, his heart was back in the kitchen, watching the tears stream down Amanda’s face as she waited for him to acknowledge what had happened between them the night before.
Instead, he’d walked away.
How could he have been such an idiot?
He’d told himself he was doing it for her. He’d made a mess of every personal relationship he’d ever had, and he didn’t want to repeat the same old mistakes with her. She was too precious to get her heart broken like that. She was too damned special.
But he’d broken her heart anyway by refusing to admit what he’d suspected for a while now—he loved her. Of course he loved her. He just hadn’t wanted to admit it because even though he’d been trying his level best to change, to become a better man, he knew he couldn’t take it if Amanda ever looked at him the way Maggie had during the final years of their marriage. After all, there were no guarantees. He’d failed before, and he could very well fail again. This morning had been proof positive that he was capable of letting someone down...even someone he loved.
He turned off his computer and pushed away from his desk. He didn’t know what to do with regards to Amanda, but he knew one thing for certain—the office was the last place he should be right now.
“I’ll be out for the rest of the day,” he said to Jonah, who’d turned up this morning in an actual suit instead of his customary hipster ensemble.
On any other occasion, Ryan would have rejoiced at the change in his assistant’s appearance. But today, the sight of that suit made him feel like the world’s biggest jerk. Jonah was clearly trying to emulate him. He’d probably been saving up for weeks to buy a suit like the ones Ryan usually wore to the office. Ryan knew what kind of money Jonah made, and it wasn’t much.
He didn’t deserve that kind of admiration. He didn’t devote an entire afternoon a week to walking homeless dogs at Furever Paws. He’d never even done that once. Nor had he spent whole days organizing a fundraiser so the shelter would have a roof over its head. He’d also never moved in with someone he barely knew in order to help them at a time when they needed it most.
Amanda had done those things, because she was the kind of person who deserved to be emulated, to be loved and adored.
“Shall I forward your calls to your cell?” Jonah asked.
“No.” Ryan shook his head. “I’m sure you can deal with any crises around here. I trust you.”
Jonan blinked, stunned. “Thank you, sir. Thank you so much.”
Ryan nodded, and didn’t bother telling him again to drop the sir. He was about ready to declare that a losing battle.
When he left the building, the urge to stop by the Grille was almost overwhelming. But he wasn’t ready. He had no clue what he could possibly say to make up for all the things that had gone wrong this morning, and he wasn’t altogether sure he should try. The hardest part was over. He’d walked away, and maybe now the right thing to do was to stay away.
He wished he knew for certain what the right thing was to do. What he wanted most of all was a sign—some small glimmer of confirmation that he could do right by her and they were indeed meant to be together. But Ryan knew better than to believe in that kind of thing. Real life was messy and uncertain, and he and Amanda didn’t exist in a vacuum. Ryan had to think about Dillon’s needs too.
But in the end, his fragile son was the one who gave him the sign he’d wished for.
When Ryan got home and walked into the kitchen, Dillon’s crayons were still scattered over the table and the drawing he’d been working on during breakfast was sitting right there, front and center. Ryan would have known that stick figure anywhere. It was Amanda, carefully rendered by Dillon’s tiny hand. He’d drawn her picture more than once in recent days. One of his Crayola portraits of her was tacked onto the refrigerator door with a magnet.
The pictures Dillon drew of Amanda varied—sometimes she was cooking and other times the drawing showed her walking a dog—but there was always one noticeable constant. Dillon spelled out her name in red letters across the top of the page. All caps. A-M-A-N-D-A.
And that’s where the drawing from this morning differed.
The stick figure resembled all his other depictions of Amanda, and to eliminate any doubt, he’d shown her working at the Grille, standing behind the counter with a big smiley-face-style grin. But he hadn’t written her name across the top of the page. Instead, he’d spelled out something else—five precious letters.
M-O-M-M-Y.
* * *
“Hello, sugar.” Birdie greeted Amanda with a kiss on the cheek and then planted a hand on her hip and frowned. “Wait a minute. What are you doing here at the shelter? This isn’t your regular shift.”
“Nope, it’s not.” Amanda shook her head. “But I’m making some changes. I should have more free time on my hands than I’ve had for the past few years, so you’ll probably be seeing more of me around here.”
She glanced around at the surrounding dog kennels, all of them full. Most of the pups were new just since last week. As the dogs at the shelter got adopted out and placed in forever homes, new ones came in and took their place. Tucker’s old kennel had already provided temporary shelter to three different dogs since he’d gone home with Ryan and Dillon
.
It was a never-ending cycle, which was precisely why Amanda kept coming back. Week after week, month after month, year after year. The more time she devoted to helping dogs get socialized, the more likely they were to get adopted. More adoptions meant more space for other strays or unwanted animals. Furever Paws Animal Rescue was just that—a rescue. They were in the business of saving lives. Amanda had seen it happen, time and time again. Sometimes the animals were the ones who ended up getting rescued. More often than not, though, the pets were the ones who ended up doing the saving, just like Tucker saved Dillon.
“I don’t understand.” Birdie picked up a nearby broom and began sweeping the concrete floor. The dogs in the kennels all swiveled their heads to and fro, following the swish-swish motion of the broom. “I love having you here. You know I do. But if you’re walking dogs, who’s running the Main Street Grille?”
Amanda smiled. “My brother-in-law, Paul. He’s been doing such a great job that I asked him if he wanted to take over as manager and he said yes. He’s been unhappy at his office job for quite a while, and he’s really loved working at the Grille. It’s a win-win for us both. I’ve decided to start my own catering company.”
“That’s wonderful, dear! I’m so happy for you. You’ll be great at that.”
“I hope so.” Amanda took a deep breath. “My parents were really surprised when I told them, but they’re actually excited for me. Especially now that Paul wants to keep running the Grille. It will remain in our family, just like always.”
She was still a little scared to finally take a chance on the dream she’d been holding on to so tightly for such a long time. Scratch that; she was terrified. But if she never took a chance, she’d never be able to make that dream come true.
That’s why she couldn’t bring herself to regret falling for Ryan Carter, no matter how painfully things had ended the day before. At least she’d tried...at least she’d opened herself to the possibility that maybe, just maybe, he could have been The One. Sure, she’d crashed and burned. But at least she hadn’t vomited on Ryan’s feet. She’d lost a piece of her heart to Ryan and his darling little boy—a big piece. She’d never get it back, but even as she’d cried herself to sleep the night before, she hadn’t been sorry for risking it all. If she’d had the chance to do it all over again, she would have only changed one decision.
