It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) (20 page)

T
ara snuggled closer to Ryan on the couch after the fantastic dinner he’d helped her cook. “Hey, I found out something interesting about your great-grandfather today, Ryan. How he was shot three different times while running whiskey, but he died of an infected cut on his finger.”

A bad sitcom played while they ate the best chocolate sundaes Tara had ever had. Sherlock sat at her feet, hopeful for a taste. No chance of that happening—it was too darn good to share.

“Actually it was four times. And yeah, people said he’d only see a doctor if he had to have a bullet dug out of his stubborn hide.” Ryan scraped the bottom of his bowl clean. “How did you know that?”

“Eric and I are going to try to find the buried whiskey recipe, despite what your father said. We did Anderson Butte research all afternoon.” She glanced his way and held her breath. She hoped the wine with dinner and then the sundae after had put him in the right mood to hear that.

He laid his empty bowl on the coffee table. “Because you need the money so badly?”

“Funny. Not me—Eric. He wants to pay for his own college.”

Ryan ran a hand down his face. “I’m never going to hear the end of it from my father, if my girlfriend and nephew get caught digging for the box.”

“Good thing I’m not your girlfriend, then. And just don’t catch us. Here.” She offered him the last of her sundae.

“What’s this? A bribe?” He took the bowl and dug in.

“No, it’s just me sharing my ice cream with my
friend
who is not my
boyfriend
. We’re not getting serious, remember?”

“I don’t know, Tara. Most women would only share a sundae this good with their boyfriend.”

“But we had a deal.” She nibbled on his neck. “Let’s compromise and call you my bene-friend instead.”

He finished up the rest of her ice cream, then laid the empty bowl beside his. “Maybe I’m too full now to offer you any benefits.”

“I bet I can change your mind about that.” She quickly straddled him and framed his face in her hands. “Prepare to be convinced.”

“Wait.” Ryan patted her rear end to get her to move off his lap. “Stay right here. I need to set something up before you try to distract me from this digging plan with sex.”

Crap. He wasn’t going to let that go easily. “What are you going to—”

“Patience.” Ryan hit the stairs to his bedroom two at a time.

What was he up to?

She turned to ask Sherlock his thoughts, but with no more prospects for a treat, he’d crawled under the coffee table and fallen sound asleep. She smiled as she watched his little furry chest rise and fall in slumber.

Who knew how much a person could love a pet? Thankfully, he’d be in good hands with Eric if she had to leave.

Ryan’s voice drifted down from the second floor. “Okay. You can come up now.”

She rose slowly from the couch, not wanting to wake Sherlock. Resisting the urge to run, she tiptoed her way up the stairs. When she rounded the corner to Ryan’s bedroom, she pulled up short.

Soft light danced off the walls and ceiling, shadowing the hard planes of Ryan’s sexy face. He’d scattered the candles from the wedding and a few more about the room.

For her.

She’d just gotten all gooey about Sherlock. Now the candles made her heart melt the rest of the way. Who would care for Ryan if she had to go?

“Thank you, Ryan. This is beautiful.”

“You’re welcome.” He crossed the room and scooped her off her feet. Then he gently laid her on his bed before covering her body with his. He brushed a piece of fallen hair from her forehead and said, “I promised we’d go slower this time, so I hope your mother bought long-lasting candles.”

Tara stared into his eyes, pushing her sad thoughts away, regaining focus on the moment. She’d looked forward to being with him again all day. “The caterers guaranteed six hours. They were only used for about three . . .”

“Challenge accepted.” He laid a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Mmmm, I think I’m glad we fueled up on sundaes first, then. But about my scars—”

He cut her off with another kiss while his hands got busy removing her shirt.

There’d be no hiding her scars without that.

Determined to get past the first awkward part, she lifted Ryan’s T-shirt above his head. His hard chest and sculpted abs banished all thoughts of her scars.

The man was built. The shadows cast by the candlelight only served to deepen the contrast in his fine form. She admired his muscles as she unbuttoned his pants and then slid the zipper down. “A little help with the jeans here, please.”

Ryan had somehow already gotten her stripped down to only her panties. The man worked fast for someone trying to take things slow. After he stood and got naked, he slowly slid her last article of clothing down her legs, laying kisses on her inner thighs along the way.

When his mouth headed north, she squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed the bedspread with her fists. She didn’t want to see his reaction when he got to the uneven skin on her stomach.

He steadily kissed his way up her torso, no hesitation whatsoever at her marred skin. When he reached her ribcage, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Maybe the scars didn’t look as bad in the candlelight?

The sweet sensations as he kneaded and suckled her breasts drove her crazy with the need to explore his body too. Releasing her tight grip on the bedding, she ran her hands down the hard ridges of his back, marveling at the soft skin covering hard steel beneath it.

By the time his mouth finally made it all the way to her earlobe, her body hummed with need, begging for release. Going slow had been a fine idea in theory but he was driving her nuts.

He whispered, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever been with, Tara. Scars and all.”

“There’re worse ones on my back . . .”

“We’ll get to those next time. I’m a little busy admiring this side now.”

Unable to take much more, she said, “My turn to admire. Switch places.”

“Gladly.” He rolled onto his back and slid his hands behind his head. “All yours.”

All six and a half feet of the most delicious man she’d ever laid eyes on. Staring at his perfect body made her hands ache to explore.

She straddled his waist, then ran her palms down his chest. Ryan was every woman’s dream. Muscles in all the right places, big, strong shoulders and arms, tight abs, long, sinewy legs—built just right for pleasing a woman.

The smug grin on his face as he watched her check out his body only made her want him more. Maybe she’d help make that happen a little sooner.

When she took his hard length in her hand and began to stroke, he closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. He gripped her waist with both hands as his hips begged for a faster pace.

Ryan quickly flipped their positions, making her yelp in surprise. Then he kissed her deeply before he reached for a condom.

Thank God.

He stared intently into her eyes as he slowly slipped inside her. That same hot desire quickly welled up inside of her, and much like the last time they’d been together, her heart warmed right along with it. She ran her hands through his thick hair and pulled his mouth to hers, letting that overpowering feeling of connection with him overtake her once again as his strokes became faster and harder.

She let her hands wander over the muscles in his back, as her own arched in sheer pleasure. Just as he tenderly whispered, “God, Tara,” her body convulsed around his.

He drove home one last long thrust that made her gasp his name before she took the headlong dive off the edge.

Ryan followed right behind.

He fell onto his back beside her, his chest heaving. “Five minutes and we’ll start on the other side.”

“
’Kay.” She turned and snuggled her face into the crook of his neck, drawing a deep breath. She loved the way he smelled. Clean and simple. No fancy cologne for him, which suited her just fine.

When he ran his hand up and down her back in a long, slow pattern, she shivered in delight. Her sister was right, those rough hands were magical.

He whispered, “Would you consider staying here with me? At least until we know what happens with Spencer?”

That sounded awful nice. But she’d never be able to stay detached if she did that.

She laid her palm on the side of his face and tilted it her way. “Thank you for worrying about me, Ryan. But I’m fine. You’re just a phone call and a minute and a half away.” She laid a quick kiss on his cheek. “Your five-minute rest period is up, pal. Let’s get a move on.”

“Tara, I think we should talk about—”

“And I think those candles are going to win the challenge if you don’t get busy ravishing me again.”

He grunted. “You can avoid a conversation better than anyone I’ve ever met.”

“Thank you. Now please proceed.”

He rolled on top of her. “We’re going to talk about this, and about digging for the recipe, in the morning.”

She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. “Fine.” She’d like nothing better than to stay with him longer than just the night, and feel as safe as she did at that moment. But she didn’t want him to think that she’d ever be able to give him what he wanted so badly—a wife and kids.

She couldn’t break Ryan’s heart like Sarah had. She cared about him way too much for that. But things weren’t going at all as she’d planned.

Snuggling closer, she sighed. Maybe she’d pull a Scarlett O’Hara and worry about it in the morning.

A warm tongue wet Ryan’s cheek, waking him from a deep sleep. He reluctantly blinked his eyes open. Sherlock. He must need to go out.

The sun reflecting off the walls was too bright . . .

Crap. They’d overslept.

He grabbed his watch from the nightstand and winced. “Tara, wake up.”

Nestled at his side, she shook her head. “Ten more minutes.”

“It’s seven fifteen.”

Tara’s eyes flew open and she leapt out of bed—naked and the most beautiful woman he’d ever known. The scars weren’t off-putting at all. Instead they served as a reminder of how courageous she was.

He plopped his pillow up on the headboard and enjoyed watching her scramble around the room in a mad search for her clothes.

She swiveled her head back and forth. “I have a packed schedule today. I can’t believe I didn’t think to set my phone. Where’s my shirt?”

“On the chair. In the corner.”

“Thanks.” She scooped up her shirt, ran to the bathroom, and turned on the shower.

Sherlock let out an impatient whine, so Ryan swung his feet to the floor and pulled on his jeans. “You want to go—”

Sherlock was out the door in a flash. He moved as fast as Tara when he had a mind to.

After Sherlock was done with his business outside, Ryan grabbed two bagels and put them in the toaster. Just as they popped up, Tara hurried down the steps, her hair still wet. “Sorry to run out like this.” She grabbed her huge purse from the countertop and then leaned down to leash up Sherlock.

Ryan spread cream cheese on a bagel and held it out. “Here. You need to eat.”

“Thanks. I’m starving!”

She smiled so sweetly at him as she took her first bite, his heart clenched. “So will I see you tonight?”

Her bagel paused halfway to her lips. “Actually, I have plans with another guy tonight.”

“Another guy?” What the hell?

She laid her bagel down and then slipped her arms around his waist. “Eric and I have . . . stuff to do.”

Instant relief shot through him. “Stuff you don’t want me to catch you two doing?”

She kissed him. “Yep.”

“Will there be digging involved?”

“Hopefully.”

“Text me and I’ll help. It’d be the best way to put an end to all of this once and for all.”

“Really?”

He nodded as he stuffed his bagel in his mouth and headed for the stairs. He didn’t want to be late either.

Tara called out from below, “You’re the best bene-friend a girl could ask for. You even do manual labor. See you later.”

After the front door slammed closed, he huffed out a breath and stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror.

Bene-friend? He needed to figure out how to move past that. Maybe if he practiced saying the words out loud? “Tara, I lo . . .”