It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) Page 5

She was being paranoid, that’s all.

  But getting a new number in the morning, just to be safe, couldn’t hurt.

  Ryan waited fifteen minutes by the boat ramp for Tara to show up for her morning run before he gave up. She must’ve decided to skip it.

  He set up his favorite playlist on the phone strapped to his arm and took off down the paved path. He hadn’t lasted a full song before the pain in his face became too much, forcing him to stop. Each pounding step sent a jarring punch to his nose that wasn’t worth it. The knockout pills from the day before were out of the question, so he’d only taken some aspirin earlier. Maybe he’d be able to take a longer run tomorrow to make up for it.

  Walking toward home to grab some breakfast before work, he remembered he was out of oatmeal, so he changed direction and headed for the store.

  Once inside, he slipped around the hardware section to the food aisles and spotted a familiar blonde head of hair. Tara stood in the rear at the phone kiosk chatting with Fred, the short, chubby owner who always played Santa at the town Christmas party. Besides having the right physique, Fred sported a long white beard that bobbed as he spoke to Tara while pointing to a cell phone in her hand. When Fred glanced Ryan’s way, the owner lifted his chin in greeting, so Ryan walked toward the rear of the store. A few yards away from them, he cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Sheriff Anderson asking permission to approach Dr. Carter.”

  Tara swiveled her head over her shoulder and sent him an eye roll. “Very funny, Ryan. Permission denied.”

  He stopped dead in his tracks. He hadn’t counted on her saying that.

  She spun around and smiled. “I was just kidding.”

  “Oh.” He joined them as Fred handed Tara—all dressed up and looking nice for work—an instruction manual.

  Fred chuckled. “Can’t blame you for that after yesterday, Ryan. The lady packs a mean punch, eh?” Then he said to Tara, “I got you all fixed up with your new number, and I transferred all your contacts. But I noticed your boyfriend’s cell number wasn’t in there, so I added it for you.”

  Was Fred talking about Ben?

  Tara frowned. “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Fred pointed at Ryan. “What do you call this guy? Word’s all over town the two of you are the new hot item. Gloria said you shared dinner with him two nights in a row.” Fred sent her a wink. “Tough to keep secrets around here, Tara.” He chuckled and walked away.

  As much as Ryan wouldn’t mind dating Tara, she probably didn’t feel the same. “Gloria means well, but she has a big mouth.”

  Tara huffed out a breath while tucking her new phone inside her purse. “He’s the third person today who’s mentioned it. The more I protest, the more they think it’s true. Gotta go. Have a nice day.”

  As she walked toward the door, he fell in step beside her. Why was she getting a new number? “Changing your number to avoid your new boyfriend’s calls?”

  Not missing a beat, she said, “Yeah, you’ve become entirely too needy lately. I think we should break up. Maybe at the diner tonight, so Gloria can see it happen live.”

  Ryan pushed the door open for her and waited while she passed by him. “What if I don’t want to break up?”

  “What?” Tara stopped in the doorway.

  He smiled at the confusion on her face. “Kidding. I know it’s Ben you have your sights on.”

  Tara shook her head and walked toward her office. “Ben’s a nice guy and all, but he’s really not my type. Besides, I’ve decided I’d rather focus on getting my practice up and going before I start dating again.”

  So she wasn’t interested in his brother after all?

  Sweet!

  But that didn’t mean Ben wasn’t still interested in her.

  Dammit.

  She never answered the question about the phone number, though. “So who are you trying to avoid?”

  Tara’s eyes shifted away from his as she picked up her pace. “Since when have you become interested in idle small talk, Mr. Chatty?”

  Since he wanted to get to the bottom of the mystery known as Tara. “Maybe you’re easier to talk to than most?”

  Her forehead crinkled as her eyes cut back to his. “Is that a pickup line, Sheriff?”

  “Don’t need one. You’re already my girlfriend. Just ask anyone in town.”

  Her eyes lit with amusement and she grinned. Tara’s smile packed as big a punch as the one she’d dealt him yesterday.

  “You were saying?” When he quirked a brow, silently waiting for her answer, she let out a long sigh.

  “I got a new number because of all the charities and their telemarketers. You try to be nice and give, and then they turn into piranhas.”

  Her answer seemed to roll off her tongue as if practiced. His gut begged to differ.

  Tara stopped walking and fished through her suitcase-sized purse. She had a can of pepper spray strapped inside.

  Once she found her keys she said, “Unless you’d like to come in and let me clean your teeth, because you’re way overdue for that, I’ll see you around.”

  “Negative.” He pulled his phone from the strap on his arm. “But I should get your new number.”

  Her hand stopped midway to the lock and her eyes lined up with his. “Why?”

  “In case someone has a dental emergency.” Or, so he could track her phone in the future in case it became necessary.

  Tara turned the lock and said, “Do you promise to call less often than you have been?”

  Teasing him again. He liked that about her. “I’ll try.” He made a crisscross against his chest. “Scout’s honor.”

  “Fine.” She recited the number.

  Zeke, the town handyman, showed up. He had to be close to seventy, and was so tall and thin it made Ryan want to buy him a meal every time he saw him.

  Zeke nodded. “Morning, you two. Figured I’d try to get that chair fixed before you open for business, Tara.” He turned to Ryan. “So it’s true, huh? You’ve finally given up that silly ‘no dating in town’ rule of yours?”

  Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but Zeke had already slipped inside.

  Tara laughed. “Seriously, if this ‘you and me’ thing gets any worse, we really might have to come up with a public breakup plan. Bye.”

  He waited for the glass door to swing closed before he hit the number he’d just added to his phone.

  She glanced at her cell, then spun around and blinked at him through the glass door as she lifted the phone next to her ear. “This is your idea of calling me less?”

  “Unlike you and your many phone rules, you can call me anytime. Especially if you feel unsafe. Day or night, Tara.” He hit “End” and walked away before she could respond.

  That ought to give her something to think about. And he’d just proved he could carry on a conversation when he made the effort. Maybe he’d try doing that more often. Especially with Tara.

  Smiling, he headed back to the store to pick up his oatmeal.

  Tara stared at the phone in her hand, debating which she was more annoyed with. That he’d just hung up on her and walked away, or that he seemed to be snooping into her personal business.

  She hated getting hung up on. It was a serious pet peeve. But it’d be worse if he suspected her lies.

  And he’d definitely been flirting with her.

  Hadn’t he?

  Oddly, she’d kind of liked it. He was funny when he put his mind to it. And Missy was right, he really was damn hot.

  She slipped behind her desk and fired up her computer while Zeke banged on something in the other room. Maybe she should just buy new exam chairs rather than having to call Zeke once a week. She could just dip into her trust fund. There was more money in there than she could ever spend.

  But if she bought new chairs she’d miss her weekly gossip ses
sions with him. Zeke was always happy to give her the scoop about all the residents of Anderson Butte. Maybe she’d ask him about what made Ryan tick. The sheriff was quiet, but not all the time. And when the man smiled it lit up his whole handsome face—not to mention what it did to her insides.

  While she waited for her scheduling program to load, she scribbled a reminder on a sticky note to call her mother later. Her mom would still be sleeping and a voice mail about a cell number change would set off all kinds of alarms.

  Thankfully she’d had her excuse for getting a new number all planned out for her parents before Ryan asked her about it. But he didn’t seem to buy it.

  What was she thinking? She needed to push aside all thoughts about how hot Ryan was and avoid him.

  The bell over the front door jingled, signaling Missy’s arrival. Tara glanced at the clock on her wall and smiled. Missy was early for once. Maybe her always-five-minutes-late assistant was finally coming around.

  Missy burst through Tara’s office door in a blur of bright colors she’d soon hide behind a white lab coat. “I came in early to hear all the deets on you and Ryan!”

  Tara’s hopes of future punctuality from Missy quickly fizzled. “Nothing’s going on with me and Ryan.”

  Missy flopped into the guest chair across the desk. “Gloria said he ate with you on Tuesday night and then you brought him dinner last night.” She crossed her arms and huffed out a breath like a petulant child.

  Tara withheld the urge to scream. Gloria must’ve called a town meeting and announced the news of Tara Carter’s eating habits to the whole world. “First off, you asked me to return his sunglasses because you didn’t want to see him. Remember? And then I told you yesterday how bad I felt about breaking his nose, so I picked up dinner for him while I ordered mine. I dropped his off on my way home. I didn’t stay and eat with him.” The way he’d held her hand and smiled at her might have convinced her to stay if Meg hadn’t shown up, but that was beside the point, so she kept that little fact to herself.

  “Oh.” Missy blinked at the new information. “So, it’s just wishful thinking on Gloria’s part?”

  Tara shrugged. “I guess. Now let’s forget all this and get ready. We have a packed schedule today, many of them Grants you’re going to be extra nice to. Remember?”

  “Okay.” Missy slowly rose from the chair. “I guess I really couldn’t blame you if the Ryan thing were true. He’s so good-looking, even if he can’t hold a decent conversation. Figures it’d take a woman like you to finally turn his head.”

  Tara rose and slipped into her lab coat. “Woman like me?”

  “Perfect and pretty.” Missy rolled her eyes and then headed for the exam rooms, so Tara followed behind. “Most women would instantly hate you for it, except you make it awful hard because you’re nice. It stings a little about Ryan eating dinner with you, though. As many times as I’ve offered, he’s never done that with me.” Missy picked up a tray and began her prep.

  “I’m far from perfect, and have more flaws than you know, Missy.” Tara frowned as she helped prepare the room, searching for something to make Missy feel better. “Ryan stayed and had drinks with you at Brewster’s the other night. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

  “Yeah, that’s true I guess.” Missy’s lips curved into a slow, cute smile. “So let’s get those damn Grants in and out of here this morning as quickly as we can. Then we can have a nice afternoon.”

  Tara closed her eyes and sighed. It could be a very long day.

  Ryan thought he’d actually make it through his first whole day without a trespassing call since the note had been unearthed, but at four forty-five his radio squawked, summoning him down the street. He locked up his office and headed out.

  When he arrived at his father’s house, he walked to the rear. Billy Grant had his Bobcat tractor fired up and the bucket ready to take its first bite into Ryan’s stepmother’s garden.

  His father, Mitch, and stepmother, Sue Ann, stood nearby on the patio. His dad held a seething Sue Ann back from tearing Billy’s eyes out with her lethal fingernails. Sue Ann looked like a younger, pissed-off version of Dolly Parton.

  His dad growled, “Dammit, Ryan. Throw his ass in jail and let him be the example for the rest of the town. This is never going to end if you keep letting people off the hook!”

  Ryan walked over to the Bobcat, reached for the key, and turned it off. Billy had played football too, and was a good friend. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “That they’d be gone a lot longer.” Billy grinned. “Mrs. Beechum said they went to Denver and weren’t expected back until later tonight. They came home early.”

  Ryan dragged a hand down his face and dug deep for patience. “What would make you look for the box here?”

  “This would be the most logical place to look. This has always been the mayor’s house, even before the streets were paved, and here is where the garden with all its straight rows has always been. Why not bury it here where the dirt is softer?”

  “The note said the recipe and map were buried at the base of something that provided shade and shelter. How would a garden do that?”

  Billy frowned. “Oh yeah. I forgot that part.” Shrugging, he started up his Bobcat and put it in gear. “See you around.”

  His dad called out, “I’m pressing charges! Don’t let him go!”

  “I’ll handle my father.” Ryan tilted his head, releasing Billy. “Get your butt off his property. See you Friday night for poker?”

  “Yup.”

  Ryan waited until Billy rolled the Bobcat onto Main Street before he walked back to his father and Sue Ann, who both stood with their arms crossed, staring daggers at him.

  “No harm, no foul.”

  Sue Ann spat out, “You’re lucky he didn’t dig up my carrots or you’d have been sorry, Ryan!” She turned on her spiked high heels and slammed the back door behind her.

  His dad’s eyes narrowed. “What’s gotten into you lately, Ryan? Why are you refusing to put a stop to this nonsense?”

  “Because it is nonsense. And so far, no one has suffered any damages.” Might be as good a time as any to tell his father about his plans. “But since you disagree, go ahead and look for a new sheriff. Especially since I’ve applied for jobs in Denver.”

  His father’s face turned three shades of red. “That’s not happening. We’ve had an Anderson as the sheriff since this town was founded by my great-grandfather. You’re staying, and I don’t want to hear another word about it!” His dad crossed his arms across his big barrel chest.

  “If I get the right job offer, I’m leaving. You’re always on me to settle down and have some kids to carry on the Anderson name. That’s not happening here. You should be happy I’m moving.”

  Before his dad could spit out a rebuttal, Ryan turned and walked away.

  His father called out, “This is about Sarah, isn’t it? You’re leaving because of her, aren’t you? If you want her so badly, then be a man and go steal her away from Ed!”

  Be a man?

  By breaking up Sarah’s marriage, and then what? Force her to love him? He refused to let his dad push his buttons, so he kept right on walking.

  His father had been telling him to act like a man since he was in middle school. To stand up for himself, fight the bullies at school, and use his size to take what he wanted in life. But he wasn’t wired that way. He liked to use his brains not his brawn to get what he wanted, unlike his grizzly-bear-sized father. He’d never been able to please the man.

  Walking toward his office, Ryan almost considered looking for the damn buried box himself just to make it all stop.

  In the Town Square his nephews were playing baseball with his soon-to-be new nephew, Eric. The ten-year-olds, Eric and Caleb, were playing keep-away from the youngest. Ryan would’ve said something, but Ty grinned widely even as he got b
urned. Ty was probably just happy to be included with the older boys.

  Seeing them laughing and having fun lifted his spirits.

  If it took dating a bunch of strangers until he found the right one to share his life with and have a few fun kids like them, he’d do it. He wanted what Meg was soon getting. A real family, not the kind they had. As a kid, he’d loved spending time at the houses of friends who had parents who clearly cared for them. Not like his dysfunctional family. They had a dead mother full of resurfacing secrets and a gruff father who didn’t seem to love anyone but Sue Ann.

  A stray baseball rolled in front of Ryan’s boots. He picked it up and sent it sailing.

  Caleb called out, “We need a fourth, Uncle Ryan. You’re on my team!”

  Ty said, “No way! I get Uncle Ryan!”

  He had a ton of paperwork to do but it wasn’t going anywhere and it was after five. He’d just go in a little early in the morning. “I’ll hit some pop-ups. Let’s see who can be the first to twenty.”

  The boys handed him a bat before they scrambled across the park to catch fly balls.

  Eric called out, “Hit one this way, Sheriff!”

  “You got it!” Ryan tossed the ball up, double-fisted the bat, and sent the ball flying.

  After a half hour of intense competition, and with each jarring smack of the bat resonating to his sore face, Ryan wanted to stop. But the boys were having so much fun he didn’t have the heart to quit. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a long black limo pulling up and stopping at the curb.

  He called time-out.

  The jogging action hero who had inadvertently caused his broken nose had bought out the entire hotel for the week, and they weren’t expecting any new celebrities. Might be a paparazzi trick.

  When the boys moaned, he declared a tie and sent them home for dinner. Then he strode toward the limo.

  A tinted window slid down. A slightly familiar-looking woman probably in her late fifties stuck her head out. “Hello, officer. Can you help us, please?” A man studying a sheaf of papers in his hands sat next to her.