It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) Read online

  “Happy to.”

  “We’re here to see our daughter. She’s the new dentist in town. Can you tell us where her office is?”

  Tara’s mother? That’s why she looked familiar. He lifted a hand in the direction of Tara’s office. “It’s right there.”

  Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “You wouldn’t happen to be the sheriff, would you? The one Tara is dating?”

  She’d told her parents they were dating and yet seemed annoyed when the whole town thought so? The Tara mystery just got a whole lot more interesting. Maybe he’d play along and see what was what.

  He plastered on a big smile and stuck out his hand. “Yes, ma’am. Ryan Anderson. Nice to meet you.”

  Tara locked up for the day, worried that for the first time Zeke might not be able to fix the part that had gone bad in chair number two. She was closed on Fridays, so Zeke had the weekend to work on it. But she had a packed schedule Monday morning and needed both chairs. He’d assured her he’d fixed that same part many times before and he’d have it back after the weekend and installed on Monday before ten o’clock.

  It’d been the busiest day she’d had since moving to Anderson Butte, and she loved it.

  She turned to head for home and spotted a familiar limo. And Ryan talking to her parents.

  Crap! She’d been so busy, she’d forgotten to call her mother. Had they called and found out her number had been disconnected, then panicked?

  She crossed the street just as Ryan smiled and stuck his hand out for a shake.

  Her awesome day had just become her worst nightmare.

  When she slipped beside Ryan, he said, “Hey, babe. Look who’s here.”

  Babe? What was that about?

  “Hello, Mother. This is a surprise.” She leaned down and peered inside. “Both of you? This is a really big . . . surprise.”

  Her mom beamed a bright smile. “Yes, and your father and I happened to run into your new beau here.”

  Crap. Crap. Crap!

  When she glanced at Ryan, he stared into her eyes, waiting for her to make the next move.

  Dammit. Would her parents remember to call her Tara?

  Was her cover about to be blown?

  Tamping back her panic, Tara said to her mother, “Ryan’s not really, I mean there’s a little more to the story . . .” Her mind scrambled for what to say with Ryan standing right there grinning at her. “So what are you guys doing here?” she asked as she tucked a strand of fallen hair behind her ear.

  “Just thought we’d—” Her mother’s eyes widened. “What happened to your hand, sweetheart?”

  Could things get any more embarrassing? “I hit . . .” She threw her thumb Ryan’s direction. “Him. But—”

  Before she could explain, her father hopped out of the car and marched toward them. He took her hand and examined the damage.

  Her father’s eyes narrowed before he said to Ryan, “What made her hit you?”

  She laid her hand on her father’s arm. “It’s not what you think.” She forced a smile. “Ryan surprised me and I overreacted. You can understand how that could happen, right?” She held her father’s gaze until understanding seemed to replace his anger.

  Her dad said to Ryan, “Young women have to be extra careful these days. Guess your face paid the price.”

  Ryan nodded. “It’s my fault. I startled her.”

  When her mother slid out of the car and joined them, her dad stuck his hand out toward Ryan. “We should start over. Nice to meet you, Ryan. This is Tara’s mother, Eva, and I’m Joe Mc—”

  Tara elbowed her father in the ribs to cut him off before he said their last name. She didn’t want to give Ryan any more ammunition to snoop.

  Quickly recovering, her dad said, “Great little town you’ve got here. I can see why Tara chose it.”

  Her father winked at her, obviously proud he’d remembered to call her Tara.

  Probably wouldn’t last long. She needed to get her parents tucked away somewhere out of the nosy little town’s clutches. “So, if you’ll excuse us, Ryan, I’ll take my parents over to the hotel and get them settled.”

  Ryan asked, “How long do you folks plan to stay?”

  Tara held her breath, waiting for the answer.

  Please say just one night.

  Her mother said, “We have a charity event tomorrow evening in Denver, so it’ll be a quick in and out.”

  Thank God!

  As her parents climbed back into their car, Ryan leaned his mouth near her ear. His warm breath sent a tingly zip up her spine. “The whole hotel is booked through next weekend. By the jogger you were just going to . . . look at yesterday.”

  The erotic jolt he’d just sent rushing through her quickly fizzled. Ignoring her misplaced, confusing lust for Ryan, and her embarrassment that she’d told him that, she searched her mind for a solution.

  She only had two bedrooms and one was an office. Her parents could take her bed and she could sleep on the couch. That’d work. But what about the rest? “So, does that mean the hotel’s dining room is closed to the public too?” The hotel had a five-star chef, like her parents were used to at home.

  Ryan nodded. “The diner’s the only option.”

  “No offense to Gloria, but my parents aren’t . . . diner people.” She held up a finger toward her parents to signal she’d be right there. “And I’m sorry about the boyfriend thing. I’ll explain all that later. After I figure out what to feed them for dinner.”

  “Grilling something is easy enough.”

  “I . . . don’t know how to grill. Or cook.”

  “How is that even possible?” Ryan blinked at her in confusion. “What do you eat?”

  “A lot of salads. And sandwiches. Learning to cook real food is next on my to-do list.”

  “To-do list?”

  “I never learned how to do certain things because I grew up with . . .” She swung her hand out toward the limo. “That. And when I was married, I didn’t have to cook because my parents gave us a chef as a wedding gift.”

  Ryan’s right brow spiked.

  Dammit. Why had she mentioned Spencer?

  Because she had been totally thrown off her game by her parents’ surprise visit, that’s why. And because something about Ryan seemed to always tempt her to blurt out the truth.

  But what was she going to do with her parents for dinner?

  A vision of Ryan’s kitchen with its professional equipment suddenly filled her mind. “Do you know how to cook?” Desperate times, desperate measures had never been a truer saying.

  Ryan crossed his arms. “Yup.”

  She waited a beat, hoping he’d catch up. Instead he just stood there with a little smirk on his face. Clearly he was enjoying this and was going to make her beg. “Would you consider cooking for us tonight? I’d owe you a really big favor. Perhaps even my left kidney.”

  “What kind of favor?” His lips tilted into a slow, gorgeous smile.

  “Anything—except for that getting-me-naked gleam in your eyes.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll have to settle for something else then, I guess. But feel free to change your mind. Seven o’clock. Any foods to avoid?”

  Thoughts of getting naked with Ryan sent that hot jolt throughout her body again. She hoped her eyes weren’t gleaming too. She needed to focus on the food.

  “Nope. They like most everything.” Asking him to be sure to use only the best ingredients like her parents were used to would make her sound like a jerk, so she’d just take her chances. “And please put everything on my tab at the store.” And wouldn’t that start a whole new round of rumors?

  She started to walk away when he called out, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  When she spun around, he was right in front of her.

  “You should probably kiss your boyfriend goodbye—
for your parents’ sake.”

  She hadn’t been kissed by anyone since Spencer, and her spine automatically stiffened. But it was just a kiss. She’d have to have her first one again sometime. Why not now? She’d look at it as moving forward, marking off another box on her recovery checklist. Who better than a safe man like the sexy sheriff to do it with? He didn’t date local girls, so he wouldn’t want anything more from her.

  “Okay.” Steeling herself, Tara closed her eyes.

  I can do this.

  His big, rough hand slowly skimmed her cheek before he ran his fingers into her hair, pulling her closer. As his scent, wood-spicy and all male, filled her senses, her hands automatically went to his hard chest in defense. When familiar panic started to rise from what Spencer had done to her, she forced it back, refusing to give in to the urge to shove him away.

  He laid a soft kiss on her forehead. “How about a rain check for when you’re ready?”

  She blinked open her eyes. “No . . . I . . . want . . . you . . .” She didn’t know what the hell she wanted from him.

  He whispered, “Then why are you about to rip the pockets off my shirt, Tara?”

  “Oh. Sorry.” She loosened her grip, but left her hands on his chest. The fast thump of his heart and the fierce desire in his eyes belied his kind action. “I guess I need to add remembering how to kiss properly to my to-do list too.” God, how pathetic could she be?

  As badly as he’d wanted a real kiss, he wanted her trust even more. Ryan searched her gaze, looking for answers that weren’t there. He’d like to beat the crap out of whoever had hurt her so badly she feared a simple kiss. “What hap—”

  “What have we here?” His brother’s voice ended their staring match as Ben joined them. “So, the rumors are true about you two, huh? Moving in on my territory, Ry?”

  Could his brother’s timing be any worse?

  Tara whirled on Ben. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m no one’s territory!”

  So, Tara had a temper. Interesting.

  Ben lifted both hands in surrender. “I was just doing my big-brotherly duty and giving Ryan a hard time. I didn’t mean to offend you. Of course you’re not any man’s territory. I apologize.”

  It took all Ryan had not to roll his eyes. What a schmoozer. Ben belonged in politics.

  Tara frowned as she looked back and forth between them, as if debating whether his brother was telling the truth.

  After he sent her a slight nod, she said to Ben, “Fine. Apology accepted.”

  She turned her full attention on Ryan next. He braced for the fury he probably deserved for kissing her in Town Square, even if it was only on the forehead.

  Instead, her face softened and her voice turned sexy quiet. “We’ll be there at seven. And I’ll bring the wine my parents like. Thanks again.” She sent him a weak smile. “For everything.”

  As Tara approached the limo, an older, uniformed chauffeur hopped out and opened the door. She slid into the car beside her mother and they drove off toward her house.

  After they were gone, Ben asked, “What the hell was that?”

  “That was you being an asshat.” He started across the grass, toward the store.

  “Me?” Ben caught up. “I don’t go around kissing the women you’ve asked out—oh, wait. That’d be impossible because you never ask anyone around here out.”

  “Whatever.” That was why he never talked about his dating life with anyone. Especially his brother and sisters. Too damned messy.

  Ben laughed as they both hopped up on the wooden sidewalk in front of the general store. Ryan reached out and yanked open the glass door as Ben asked, “What’s going on with you, Ry? Grandma’s right. Lately you’ve had the biggest stick up your—”

  Ryan let the door slap closed in his brother’s face, then grabbed a cart and started throwing ingredients into the basket.

  Ben caught up again with his own basket, but was thankfully silent as they made their way up and down the aisles, filling their shopping carts.

  After they checked out, they walked side by side toward their respective homes, still not speaking.

  Ben not jabbering on about something was out of character.

  Ryan couldn’t stand the silence any longer, and that was out of character for him. “I know you asked her out first. Didn’t mean to cross the line. It just . . . happened.” And he felt rotten about it. “I’ll back off.” But he didn’t want to back off, dammit.

  He wanted Tara.

  But family came first. Always.

  Ben shrugged. “I knew I’d struck out with Tara after seeing the way she was all about you in my office yesterday. The woman clearly has bad taste.”

  Ryan’s lips tilted before he could stop them. “Maybe you’re getting old or something?”

  “Now who’s the asshat?” Ben shifted his bags and stopped walking. “My advanced age has given me seven more years of dating experience, and I can see Tara’s into you. I was looking for you earlier to tell you to go for it with her. And to remind you to tear up that ridiculous mental list of requirements for the perfect woman. She doesn’t exist!” He turned to go, then called out, “Try to have actual conversations sometimes, if you want to keep her around longer than the others. See you, lughead.”

  “Later.” Ryan walked down his driveway, relieved things with Ben were back to normal again.

  He’d take his brother’s advice and work on talking more—while he tried to extract intel on Tara from her parents.

  After Tara got her parents—and their six pieces of luggage for just one night—settled in her bedroom, she arranged for accommodations for their driver, Jimmy, at the hotel fifteen miles away in the next town south, and then sent him on his way. The hotel was part of a popular chain, perfectly fine for anyone other than her mother, or she would have sent her parents there too.

  She snuck out to the backyard to call Ryan. He answered with, “Hey.”

  “Hi. Everything under control? Need me to pick up anything?”

  “Nope.”

  Never a wasted word with the guy. “Um, would it be okay if I brought my puppy? He’s all discombobulated by my parents showing up out of the blue.”

  “Discombobulated?”

  “Sherlock likes his routine. I don’t know what he’ll do if I leave him home alone.”

  “’Kay.”

  “Do you always talk on the phone like this? With one-word answers?”

  “Yeah?”

  Tara smiled.

  Determined to make him utter a full sentence she said, “For my parents’ sake and to keep up the ruse of you being my real boyfriend, tell me something I should know about you.”

  He was silent so long she wasn’t sure he’d answer until he finally said, “I don’t like to talk on the phone?”

  Eight words. She’d take it. “That I already figured out. Something else.”

  “I’m an excellent cook. But stuff is going to burn if you don’t stop asking me questions.”

  Laughing, she said, “Okay. We’ll be there in a few. Thank you for doing this, Ryan. I really appreciate it.”

  “Welcome.” He hung up. No goodbye. Just silence.

  He’d hung up the last time without saying goodbye too. Maybe he did that to everyone? So she shouldn’t take offense?

  Her phone rang again. It was Ryan. “Hello?”

  “I probably should have said goodbye. I’m told it’s a bad habit of mine.”

  “Yeah. Hard to keep girlfriends happy when you hang up on them all the time.”

  “Happy would be good. My broken nose shows how hard you hit. Bye, Tara.”

  That was three whole, but short, sentences. Maybe there was hope for the man yet. “Goodbye, fake boyfriend.” She quickly hung up first.

  Shaking her head and smiling, she grabbed her dog’s leash and clipped it on he
r excited pup. “As for your bad habits, little man, no jumping on my mother, you hear? Be a good boy and mind your manners.”

  Sherlock’s stub tail wagged in answer as he lurched for the door, nearly tugging Tara’s arm out of the socket. He loved going on walks and still hadn’t gotten the “heel” part down.

  Once inside, Sherlock headed straight for her mother.

  Using her sternest voice, Tara tugged on his leash. “Sit!”

  Sherlock stiffened before he stopped dead in his tracks and plopped his butt down. The confused expression on his little face at her harsh tone poked at Tara’s heart. “Good boy.”

  “It’s cute enough, I guess.” Tara’s mom tried to hide her disgust at a dog in the house, but her nose still wrinkled. “What will you do with it while we eat?”

  It? She started to remind her mother that his name was Sherlock, but picking her battles seemed more prudent. Long night ahead.

  “He’s coming along.” Tara ignored the mortification on her mother’s face. “You guys didn’t have to get all dressed up. We’re just going to Ryan’s house. Would you like to change?”

  Her mom wore something fit for a state dinner and her dad looked handsome in his crisp, dark suit and red tie.

  Her mother shook her head. “One should always dress for dinner, Jamie. Maybe you should change too? Surely you’ll want to look your best for Ryan.”

  Her father rolled his eyes. He was happiest when dressed for his golf game. “Jamie looks fine, Eva. Leave the girl alone.”

  “That’s Tara to you guys. And Ryan won’t care. He’s a casual, laid-back kind of guy.”

  Her father mumbled, “That’d be a nice change from our usual dinner partners,” and earned an arm swat from her mom.

  Tara stifled her grin. “Let’s go.”

  Any man who’d cook for her parents and let her bring her rambunctious pup to his newly remodeled house without hesitation got extra points from her. Maybe she and Ryan could end up being friends after all.

  After she grabbed the wine and locked up, her father asked, “Where’d Jimmy go?”

  “I sent him to a hotel in the next town. We can walk to Ryan’s house. It’s just down the hill.”