It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) (21 page)

He cleared his throat and closed his eyes, recalling how her gaze softened so sweetly every time he made love to her. It did something to his insides when she looked at him that way. “Tara. I . . . love you.”

There. He’d said it.

Popping his eyes open, he smiled like an idiot at himself in the mirror. “Bene-friend, my ass!”

At four forty-five Tara flopped into her office chair and picked up her cell. It had been a long, satisfying Monday. And Missy had been on her best behavior, so she’d let her go home before five.

She dialed Detective Bailey’s number. It went to voice mail. “Hi, it’s Tara. Just checking in and hoping for some good news. Call me when you get a chance, please.” She hit “End” and leaned back in her chair. Maybe things would work out after all. Still, she needed to get a move on and help Eric find that buried box just in case.

She was still in shock that Ryan wanted to help. She’d never want to cause him any more trouble with his father, but if they got caught, maybe he could tell his dad he was just trying to put an end to it all like the mayor wanted.

She tapped out a text to Ryan.
My date is coming over at six thirty. If you’d like to compete for my favor you could show up too. You’d probably be a shoo-in if you brought dinner. And a couple of shovels. I don’t have any.

She smiled as she thought about how he’d outlasted the three hours left on the candles last night. Gotta give a guy points for that.

Her phone dinged with a response.
No thanks. Don’t feel like cooking tonight.

What?

She stared at her phone. Maybe running out on him so quickly earlier had made him angry? She started to tap out an apology when her phone dinged again.
I might be persuaded to join you for dinner and bring shovels too if you figure out how to make me and Eric some spaghetti.

She laughed.

Blackmail. But how hard could it be?
Fine. See you at six thirty. Bring dessert!

His text flashed on her screen.
You got it. Can’t wait to see this.

Well, she’d just show him, then.

Tara found her purse and keys, then locked her office door behind her. She needed to stop at the store on the way home and pick up what she’d need. But what exactly did she need? She pulled her phone out to Google it, but then realized Ryan’s grandmother’s house was only a little ways in the opposite direction. She’d surely know how to make a spaghetti meal Ryan would like.

Tara made her way down the long drive toward the lake. Mrs. Anderson knelt in her garden, wearing a big, floppy hat and gloves, filling a basket with fresh vegetables.

“Hi, Mrs. Anderson. How are you?”

The old woman glanced her way and smiled. “Well, hello, Tara. Heard you and Ryan have finally done the deed.”

Oh. Dear. God!

“You’ve been talking to Meg and Casey, I take it?”

“Yep.” Mrs. Anderson laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen quite that shade of red that’s running up your neck, Tara. You need to sit or something?”

Resigned, Tara plastered on a smile. “Nope. What I need is to know how to make Ryan’s favorite spaghetti dinner by six thirty tonight.”

“That so?” Mrs. Anderson beamed a sly smile. “Well, it’s lucky I was just out here gathering up fresh tomatoes, then. Normally I’d rather the sauce stew longer, but I have a fast version too. Come on in. We’re going to have to hurry.”

Pleasing Ryan in the kitchen won out over embarrassment. “Thanks, Mrs. Anderson. I appreciate it.”

“Well, you’ve already given the milk away for free. I might as well give you a hand so he’ll see what else he’ll miss if he lets you get away.”

Tara shook her head and followed behind. “Ryan and I have a deal, remember? By mutual consent,
milk’s
the only thing on the table. And if you don’t promise to cut out the nosy questions I’ll have to thank you for your trouble, but then figure it out on my own.”

Ryan’s grandmother stopped and cocked a brow. “Bossy lady for someone asking a favor, aren’t ya?”

“Takes one to know one.” Tara crossed her arms and lifted her chin, doing her best not to quake in her shoes. Ryan’s grandmother fascinated her as much as she scared her.

“True.” Mrs. Anderson smiled and then tilted her head in a “come-hither” gesture. “But the joke’s still on you, Tara. Because the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.”

Tara blinked as she processed that statement. She was making a mistake by cooking for Ryan? She needed to keep things easy and light. “You know what? I think maybe I’ll just take a rain—”

“Chicken.” Mrs. Anderson turned and walked through her back door, letting it slap closed behind her.

Tara stood in the yard staring at the screen door.

Chicken?

She wasn’t a chicken. She’d been to hell and back but was still standing.

The screen door creaked open and Mrs. Anderson called out, “Coming in or not? I’m getting older by the second here.”

Tara threw her shoulders back. “Be right there!”

The heart and stomach thing was probably just an old wives’ tale anyway.

She hoped.

T
ara slid steaming plates of spaghetti in front of Ryan and Eric, then passed the bread and salad. The aroma of garlic
and tomato mingling in the air made her realize how hungry she was.

Ryan’s brow crumpled. “My grandmother’s cheesy French bread? How did you—”

“I stopped by her house on my way home today. You said I should figure this out, so I asked an expert.”

Eric bit into the warm bread and his eyes lit up. “Wow! This is really good, Tara!”

“Thank you, Eric.” She turned to Ryan, who was still scowling at the bread.

He said, “You made this? All on your own?”

“Yep. Ruth—that’s what she told me to call her from now on—said it was going to drive you nuts that I know what the secret topping is but you don’t.”

“I can’t believe she told you. I’ve been asking her for years.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. “This is incredible, Tara. What is it?”

“Nope. My lips are sealed.”

Seeing how much Ryan enjoyed the bread filled her with more pride than even the day she graduated from dental school. It was just plain silly how much she’d hoped he’d like her meal. How much she loved to see him happy.

She needed to get a grip. She couldn’t allow herself the feelings she had for Ryan. She was already in way deeper than she’d ever planned to be. She couldn’t even think about how much she’d miss Ryan if she had to leave.

She took a break from eating and said, “Eric and I have identified the two best potential dig sites. One is on your grandmother’s land. The other is behind the T-shirt shop, which after doing some sleuthing and slogging through a ton of material from the library, we figured out used to be the old stagecoach stop. We found a picture of people standing under the shelter as they waited for the coaches to arrive. Now it’s the covered and enclosed area where the Dumpster is.”

When Ryan reappeared from the kitchen with seconds, she smiled. She couldn’t wait to tell his grandmother how much he’d liked the meal in the morning.

Ryan said, “Is the place on my grandma’s land a stand of trees in a diamond pattern surrounding one big tree in the middle?”

“Uh-huh,” Eric said with his mouth full.

“I caught Pete digging there. Seems like a good spot, but I like the T-shirt shop. I re-read the clue. Makes sense that wherever the box is buried might be somewhere that
used
to provide shade and shelter. My uncle really didn’t want that whiskey recipe to be found. He’d make it difficult. Probably nothing obvious.”

Tara pushed her empty plate away before she succumbed to seconds. She wanted to save room for the chocolate mousse dessert Ryan had brought. “Or, just the opposite. So obvious, no one would ever think to look there. Hidden in plain sight, so to speak. Could go either way.”

Tara’s heart warmed as she watched Ryan and Eric wolf down the food she’d made. It was nice to share a meal with her two favorite guys in town. If only she could stay . . . no. She needed to stop. She didn’t know if she’d be able to stay, and thinking how nice it’d be to have dinners like these every night was just making her sad.

But she hoped they’d actually find the map for Eric. The kid deserved a break. And Ryan did too. If they found it, then maybe his father would stop hounding Ryan and he’d stay in Anderson Butte where he clearly belonged. She hated how Ryan’s father treated him. He deserved so much better.

Just as they were about to head out, her phone rang. It was Detective Bailey. She flipped the screen around so Ryan could see who it was. She couldn’t talk in front of Eric. “Why don’t you guys go on ahead? I’ll catch up.”

Ryan gave her a worried look. “We’ll start at the Dumpster first.” He slung an arm around Eric’s shoulder and then grabbed Sherlock’s leash, leading them out the front door.

Tara answered her phone. “Hi, Detective. Any news?”

“Nothing.” He let out a long sigh. “The surveillance system at the hospital had been undergoing an upgrade, so the IT people had taken different sections offline for periods of time last week, leaving big gaps. Our interviews of the staff and caterers is almost complete, and we still don’t have a suspect.”

Tara’s hopes for finding the accomplice quickly plummeted. “And my parents’ staff? Nothing there?”

“No. I’m looking at the possibility we may have an internal leak in my department. That’s why I’m calling you from home. I think it’s time I start looking for a new place for you.”

No, not yet!

Hot tears stung her eyes. “I’m not sure I want—”

“Nothing has to be decided tonight. I want to have someplace ready for you, though, just in case. Are you still insistent on practicing dentistry?”

The thought of never talking to her family again, and of leaving Anderson Butte, Ryan, Eric, and Sherlock, made Tara’s legs grow weak. “I’d like to keep just one thing I’ve worked so hard for in my life. But I understand it’s another way for Spencer to find me.” She made her way to the couch and sank into it.

“Let me see what’s available. But it’s important you don’t take instructions or discuss relocation plans with anyone but me. Understood?”

She cleared away the lump in her throat. “Yes. Only you.”

“I’m not giving up yet. Not until we’ve exhausted all the possibilities. I’ll let you know immediately if there’s any news.”

“Thank you. But if we don’t catch a break, how soon are we talking about moving me? I want to tell my parents good—”

“You can’t do that, Tara. You can’t tell anyone. Especially because we don’t know where the leak is coming from. I’ll get word to your parents after I have you safely tucked away somewhere.”

She couldn’t even say goodbye? “Maybe I should just stay and take my chances. I’m so tired—”

“Tara, you have that option, but I’m afraid it’ll only be a matter of time before he finds you. Relocation is the only way to keep you safe.”

Keep her safe, maybe. But what about her happiness? What was that worth? “Okay. Go ahead and start looking for a new place. But I still need to think this through some more.”

“Will do. I’ll be in touch.”

“Thanks.” Tara hit the “End” button, then tossed the phone on the coffee table. What was she going to do?

She stared at the wall, watching the shadows lengthen as warm tears dripped down her cheeks. Running different scenarios through her mind over and over, she couldn’t find a way around moving. But there had to be another option. Wasn’t there some way she could stay? The thought of leaving—no. What she was going to do was hope for the best. Stay positive. Maybe they’d find who they were looking for tomorrow. Then she could stay.

She went to the bathroom to wash her face. She’d been crying for the better part of an hour and couldn’t let the guys see how upset she was. After patting her skin dry, she went to the kitchen and grabbed a flashlight from the junk drawer. In the time she’d been pondering her fate, it had become dusky outside. When she opened the front door, Sherlock bounded across the porch followed by Ryan. He had a grim look on his face.

“Hi. No luck?”

“Nope.” Ryan leaned the shovels on her front porch then stepped inside. “Eric was pretty disappointed so he went home.”

She was disappointed too. And now she was even more determined to find that box. Especially because she might not be around to help soon. “We’ll have to go back to the beginning and look for more clues, I guess.”

After Ryan freed Sherlock from his leash he asked, “So what did Detective Bailey have to say?”

He’d said not to talk to anyone about her possible relocation plans. “They’re still investigating and he’ll let me know as soon as he knows something.”

“It took him an hour to tell you that?”

Frown lines on his forehead told her he suspected she wasn’t telling him the whole truth. “No. But it was a great excuse to get me out of digging.” Taking his hand, she led him toward her bedroom. She didn’t want to waste a moment of the little time she might have left with Ryan. “How about I give your poor, tired muscles a massage as my punishment?”

“Oh, no you don’t.” He swept her off her feet and then dropped her on the couch. “No bene-friend sex until you spill my grandmother’s secret ingredient.”

Tara picked up the remote and turned on the TV. “You might want to reconsider, pal. I’ve already proven I can go without for almost three years.”

“Which is exactly why I’m betting you won’t last ten minutes making out with me on the couch.”

“You’re going to torture me with almost-sex?”

“Yep.” Ryan took the remote from her hand and turned off the TV. Then he framed her face in his hands and kissed her.

Slowly, and so sweetly her defenses were already cut by half.

Dammit.

She leaned back for air. “I’m not telling—”

He cut her off with another kiss. Then he nibbled on her earlobe. That always drove her nuts. When he moved to her neck, she sighed.

After two more minutes of his sweet torment, her brain had only a few functioning cells left—the only things stopping her from blurting out the truth. She had the hardest time lying to the man. “It’s in the fridge. Top shelf on the right.”

He hopped up so fast it startled Sherlock out of his deep slumber under the coffee table.

She called out to his retreating back, “I didn’t tell you, that’s how you figured it out if your grandmother asks!” Ruth had sent the ingredients along with Tara so she could take the bread out of the oven right before Ryan arrived. When the three kinds of cheese were still hot and gooey.

He replied, “It’s mayonnaise? You put that on before the paprika and cheese? My grandmother shouldn’t be eating all that cheese, much less real mayonnaise. That’s bad for her cholesterol.”

She moved beside Ryan, who still stood with the fridge door open, examining the jar with utter horror on his face. “She said, and I quote, ‘Don’t tell Ryan, he’ll have a fit, but the mayonnaise is what makes it so damned good. You’ll be guaranteed all the
milk
you can handle if you make him his favorite bread tonight.
’
”

“Milk?” He put the jar back and shut the door. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You know the one about how a man won’t buy the cow if the milk is free?” She turned and headed for her bedroom. “Was she right?”

Ryan caught up with her. “Depends on the cow.” He scooped her up and kicked the bedroom door closed behind them.

“No, I meant the part about how I’ll have all the
milk
I can handle tonight.”

“Yep.” He laid her on the bed, then started on her blouse buttons. “Guaranteed.”

Tara, in her office the next day between patients, checked her cell. It was noon and still nothing from Detective Bailey. She tried to stay positive, but the more time that passed made it even more difficult.

Please let them catch a break today.

Missy stuck her head inside the door. “Lunch is here.”

“Thanks. I’m starving!” Tara followed Missy to the break room and grabbed two waters from the fridge.

When Missy unloaded their to-go order from the diner, her brows quirked up. “Chicken pot pie? You usually get the grilled chicken salad with dressing on the side. All that ‘just friends’ sex with Ryan must be increasing your appetite.” Missy’s lips tilted into a sly grin. “Or maybe you’re eating for two?”

Tara accepted her lunch and sat down at the table. “Seeing as I’m missing the necessary parts for that to happen, we’ll just go with all the fun sex.”

Missy’s grin quickly disappeared. “I’m sorry, Tara. I had no idea. Foot in mouth once again.”

“No worries. It is what it is.”

Missy took a bite of her sandwich. “So, since you and Ryan are just sex buddies, do you think he’ll get back together with Sarah now that she’s left Ed?”

“What?” Tara’s stomach took a dive. “When did that happen?”

“Over the weekend. She’s staying with her mom temporarily. I ran into her at Brewster’s the other night, and she told me the whole story. She says she’s going to move in with her sister in Denver as soon as she can find someone with a truck to help her get all her things there. Is it just a coincidence both Ryan and Sarah are moving away to Denver? Or do you think they’ve been planning this all along?”