It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) (27 page)

Ben said, “Take it easy there, Eric. Tara needs to stay still until her cast sets.”

Joyce, Ben’s ancient nurse and not a fan of Tara’s ever since she’d punched Ryan, threw her hands up in frustration. “Why do we bother to have privacy rules, Doc?”

Ben chuckled. “Are these people bothering you, Tara?”

“Nope. Hi, everyone.”

Casey said, “We’re so glad you guys are okay.”

Eric added, “The detectives out there just told us that guy is dead. So does that mean you can stay now?”

Tara glanced up. All the ladies were nodding in agreement. Eric must’ve told them the whole story.

She hadn’t even fully processed the fact that she suddenly had her life back again. That she wouldn’t have to hide anymore, or feel her gut clench every time her cell rang with an unknown number.

She closed her eyes and blew out a long, slow breath. It was finally over.

But seeing Spencer again had driven home the horrendous misjudgment she’d made by listening to her unreliable heart. She’d changed her whole life for the man. Been fooled by his charm. She’d made up her mind that she’d stay single and unencumbered from now on. Maybe it’d be best to go back to her original plan of volunteering her dental skills for the poor. Give herself time away in a developing country and figure out what she really wanted?

Her heart was telling her she wanted Ryan, and that scared her. Would Ryan be another mistake she’d figure out a few months down the road as she’d done with Spencer? “I’m . . . not sure Eric.”

Ruth said, “You forget the bad and keep the good, Tara. Hiding and never taking risks is no way to live.” She leaned on her cane and turned around to leave. “Eric told us how you shielded him from your ex. For a brave woman, you can be awful chicken sometimes. Come on, everyone, it’s crowded in here.” Ruth hobbled out the door, and one by one they all trailed behind her like little ducks, even Joyce. Except for Eric—he hung on, seemingly unable to let go.

Meg stopped and said, “You coming, Eric?”

When he shook his head, Meg locked eyes with Tara as if asking if it was okay. When Tara nodded, Meg quietly slipped out the door.

While Ben worked, she said, “Are you sure you’re okay, Eric?”

“I thought you were going to die . . .” His voice trailed off to a whisper.

“Me too.” She laid a kiss on the top of his head. “You were very brave.”

Tears filled his eyes. “But I ran away and left you.”

“We might all be dead if you hadn’t listened to me and run when you did. It distracted Spencer, and that’s just what I needed. I left when Ryan told me to go get help for the same reason. Everything worked out just as it was supposed to.” That wasn’t exactly the way things had transpired, but she couldn’t let Eric think he’d done anything wrong.

Ben finished up and then scooted his chair away. “Hey, Eric. There’s a secret stash of Dove bars in the kitchen freezer. I think you deserve one for being such a hero today.”

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” He reappeared a moment later. “Ryan’s here!”

Tara’s heart skipped a beat as she hopped off the table to make room. God, she hoped he was okay. She’d gotten out of it with a broken hand and some scrapes and bruises. Hopefully Ryan’s injuries were minor too.

Ben hurried out into the hall, and then reappeared with a very dusty Ryan in tow. Ben pointed to the table but Ryan ignored him and circled his arms around Tara’s equally dirty body.

Her traitorous heart melted as he pulled her against his chest. “I’m so glad to see you, Ryan. Are you hurt?” She held on tight, so thankful he’d made it out alive.

He opened his mouth to speak, but only a croaking noise came out. Mike followed behind and said, “He lost his voice from coughing up a ton of dirt.”

“I need to listen to your lungs, Ry.” Ben pulled his stethoscope from around his neck and grabbed Ryan’s arm, but Ryan shook him off.

He looked into Tara’s eyes and tried to speak again, but nothing came out. He frowned and pointed to his chest.

“Your chest hurts?” She wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell her.

He shook his head. Then he turned toward his grandmother and sisters, who’d all crammed into the small room behind him and gestured for them to help him.

Casey called out, “Oh, he’s playing charades! I think he meant himself, Tara.”

Ryan patted his nose and then turned back to Tara again.

She said, “So we’re playing a game?”

He nodded and pointed to his shirt.

She guessed, “Pocket?”

He threw both hands on top of his head in frustration, then his eyes lit with an idea.

He stuck his knuckles together with his thumbs touching below, then laid the shape over his pocket. She guessed, “CPR?”

“No!” Meg called out. “He’s making a heart!”

Ryan nodded and stared into her eyes. He repeated the sequence all over again by pointing to his chest. His sisters both said, “I.”

Then he made the knuckle gesture again, and they said, “Heart.”

Then Ryan pointed to her and his sisters called out, “You. He loves you, Tara!”

He coughed violently as he nodded his head.

“You love me?” Her own heart nearly soared out of her chest. He’d never told anyone that before. That he’d chosen her to be the first to say it to almost made her blurt out a resounding “I love you too!” before she stopped herself. Could she risk
her
heart again?

Ryan’s coughing became so bad it doubled him over.

She reached out to help him, but Ben grabbed Ryan’s arm and pulled him toward the exam table. “Everyone out! Now!”

She asked, “Can I stay, Ben?”

Joyce reappeared and took her by the arm. “Nope. You heard the doc. Everyone out to the waiting room.”

He’d said he loved her. Was it just all the adrenalin from almost dying? Could she believe him? Or her own heart that enthusiastically begged for her to take a chance?

After they all trooped out to the empty waiting area, she bit the thumbnail on her good hand as she contemplated what Ryan admitting his love for her really meant. Assuming she could get past her fears and take the risk, did he love her enough to give up having his own children? He’d made it clear he wanted a family. And did she want to go the serious relationship route again when she’d sworn she wouldn’t? She’d only known him well for a few weeks.

“Tara!” Ruth said loudly. “I can practically see those negative thoughts turning in your head. Either you love him or you don’t. End of story. Stop overthinking this and man up!”

Man up? Was it really that simple?

After an hour of waiting and pondering, Ben reappeared. “Tara? Ryan won’t rest until he sees you. But he’s not allowed to talk.”

She hopped up and followed Ben down a long hall toward the back of the clinic. “Is he going to be all right?”

“His lungs should be back to normal in a week or so, but he has a hairline fracture on his tibia and a severely sprained ankle. He should be able to go home soon but he’ll need some help once he gets there. For now, he needs rest.”

“This is my fault. I’ll sign up for home-care duty.”

Ben chuckled. “Ryan’s a horrible patient. Just warning you.”

“I can handle Ryan.”

He glanced at her casted hand. “You do have a mean right hook.”

She laughed softly as she entered Ryan’s room. She never knew there were hospital beds in the clinic, but Ryan was in one, with oxygen tubes on his face.

“Hi.” She sat next to him on the bed. “Now there’s no denying it. You’re officially my hero. Thanks for saving me, Ryan.” She laid a kiss on his forehead.

When he smiled at her, her stomach twisted like it always did. It’d become something she looked forward to.

Ryan picked up a pad of paper on the table by his bed. After grabbing a pen, he scribbled something, then held out the note.
Sorry about your hand, but thanks for saving MY life.

She glanced at her aching, casted hand. “When he aimed that gun at you, I stopped thinking and just reacted. But I’m so sorry you were hurt because of me. I hope you’ll let me make it up to you somehow?” How was it she was always in debt to him? And why was it the only kind of debt that had ever felt right?

Shaking his head in disagreement, he scribbled on the pad again. After what seemed like forever, he handed the paper to her.

I love you, Tara. If you’d gone away I wouldn’t have stopped looking until I found you.

She lifted her head and blinked at him. Until that very moment she hadn’t realized that deep in her heart she’d hoped he’d come after her too. It chipped away at her hard-line defense. She lifted the page and read more.

I remember the first time you smiled at me—it was the same day you broke my nose—because it did something to my heart I couldn’t explain. That had never happened before, and I’m afraid it’ll never happen again. You worry you can’t have children with me, but if that’s all that is stopping you, and after some time we decide this is going to work, look at Eric. If we could get a kid like him we’d be the luckiest parents in the world.

Tara nodded as tears slid down her cheeks. They would be lucky to have a child as sweet as Eric. She laid the paper on the bed and slipped the fingers on her good hand through his as she continued reading his words that touched her soul deeper than any had ever before. The wall protecting her heart began to disintegrate.

Meg once told me women want to hear men’s own words to express their feelings, not something from a book, but I don’t know words that could adequately tell you how I feel. So I’d like to borrow some from an author I know you respect—Keats:
“My Creed is Love and you are its only tenet.”

That did it. Ruth was right. Either she loved him or she didn’t. She’d work out the rest later.

Slowly folding the paper, she smiled, then put the page into her pocket to keep forever. Quoting Keats. From memory, no less? She would’ve never seen that coming in a million years. There was a lot more she had to learn about Ryan. And she was going to enjoy doing it.

Wiping her cheeks dry, she forced a serious expression. “You think by writing all this down and quoting my favorite lines that I’m going to just turn into a big puddle of goo at your feet, don’t you?”

Ryan winced, but then slowly nodded.

He was so cute. “You realize that I’m going to need to hear all this again, once you get your voice back? You’re going to have to say the whole thing out loud so I know you’re serious.”

Frowning, he grabbed the pad and wrote,
Even the Keats?

“Especially the Keats, buddy. Still up for it?”

He rolled his eyes, but then he nodded.

She kissed him on the cheek. She should go; Ben said Ryan needed the rest. “Okay, then . . .”

He grabbed her hand and drew her close. In a whisper so soft she had to strain to hear, he said, “I love you, but how do you feel about
me
?”

Her heart melted at the uncertainty in his gaze. “So men need to hear a woman’s own words too?”

He nodded.

“I love you too, Ryan.”

Relief crossed his face as he cocked a single brow, asking the silent question she finally knew the answer to. Any guy who quoted Keats, could kiss like no other, and who wanted kids like Eric was the best deal she’d ever get. She’d be foolish not to take the gift he offered—and to deny her heart the gift she so badly wanted to give him in return.

She leaned next to his ear and whispered, “I heard you need someone to make biscuits for your gravy in the mornings while you heal. It just so happens I’m darn good at that now.”

His lips tilted into a naughty smile as he wrote,
Is that a pick-up line, Tara
?

“Don’t need one.” She laid a quick kiss on his mouth. “You’re already my boyfriend. Just ask anyone in town.”

A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS

It Had to Be Him
, the original book in this series, was my first published story. Because I wasn’t sure I’d ever sell another, I thanked all the people I could think of who helped make my dream of becoming a published author come true. Many of my writer friends teased me about how long those acknowledgments were. The most common phrase I heard was, “Hello? You thanked everyone but your dog!”

True. So the first thank-you goes to my dog, Beau. Thanks, buddy, for always being happy to see me when others—who shall remain nameless—don’t seem to share your joyful enthusiasm at my mere presence. You never judge, you’re a good listener, and you love unconditionally—all the traits of a true friend.

Speaking of true friends, thanks to my critique partners, Robin Perini, Shea Berkley, and Louise Bergin. Our weekly meetings are always filled with laughter, fun, and lots of great advice.

A special thanks to my other go-to girls, Monique, Gina, and Laurie. I appreciate all the great e-mails and chats every writer needs to keep her sane. (Although my family might disagree with the sane part.)

I’m also thankful for my awesome, hardworking agent, Jill Marsal. Thanks for cheering me on, giving me the best advice, and for keeping me on the right track when I so often tend to want to veer.

I’m eternally grateful to my editor, Maria Gomez, for buying my books; to Charlotte Herscher for editing them; and to all the Montlake team for working so diligently to be the best publishing house an author could ever work with! Smooches to you all.

And as always, thanks to my readers—thankfully supplemented by my humongous number of family members—for choosing to read my books so I can write more. You are appreciated more than written words can express.

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