It Had to Be Them (An It Had to Be Novel Book 4)

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It Had to Be Them (An It Had to Be Novel Book 4) Page 11

by Tamra Baumann


  It’d worked. She hated how her stomach had clenched at the sight of Sam and Ben. “This is the perfect example of annoying, small-town life. Why can’t everyone just leave us alone and mind their own business?”

  Ben moved a step closer. “Gossip and nosiness weren’t rampant when you lived in your cozy tent community in Africa with Nate?”

  Now who was acting jealous? She ignored the question and said, “Please go call off your sisters so we can just throw some darts and get through this evening. I don’t want to make a scene.” She started to leave but he laid a hand on the wall beside her head, blocking her in.

  “Not until we get something straight. Do you still have feelings for me, Kline?”

  She sighed. “That’s beside the point. It’s the game playing—”

  “So let’s make it the point. You say your piece on the matter and then I’ll say mine.” He moved so close the heat from his body warmed hers in the cool, drafty hallway as he whispered, “Yes or no?”

  She stared into his eyes that searched hers so intently she felt his longing deep in her soul. Where her heart, filled with her past love for him, battled against the temptation to let him back in. The deep scars still ached, reminding her to stay strong. “Let’s look at the facts, Ben. Yes, we both have undeniable physical attraction for each other. And yes, I have some unresolved feelings for you. I might win the election or I might have to stay for a while until I get my mother’s health issues sorted out, but I don’t know what’ll happen after that. It’d just make it harder if I leave and we’ve become involved again. The reasonable side of my brain says we should save ourselves the inevitable grief and stay friends.”

  “I disagree.” He laid his mouth on hers and whatever chance she’d had for a logical rebuttal went straight out the back door. The man made her toes curl and her heart melt every time he kissed her. And she couldn’t deny she’d been jealous seeing him with someone else earlier.

  Her hands slid into his thick hair, and she pulled him closer. She wanted to make the most of their last kiss, because that’s what it needed to be.

  While his tongue made sweet love to hers, her hormones pulled rank on her logic and she gave in completely to the spell Ben’s kiss cast over her. It wasn’t just physical attraction. Ben took her to that familiar, happy place no other man ever had—and she missed going there with all her being.

  She’d missed him.

  Wanting more, she pressed her mouth and her needy body harder against all of his glorious muscles. When her lungs burned from the lack of air, it reminded her that she needed to end the kiss. Slowly, she leaned away and stared into his eyes. Should she take a chance with him again?

  He ran his tongue over his swollen bottom lip and then whispered, “Thanks for proving my point.” Ben turned and walked away, leaving her hot, bothered, and knowing full well that he was right. Her body had given him the answer he’d been looking for without her having to say a word. She still had feelings for him.

  She forced her feet to follow in Ben’s wake back to the dart game.

  Kline made her way through the crowd watching the other dart game, surprised by all the well wishes and high fives she received from people for the upcoming election. She couldn’t restrain a grin as she slapped their palms in return.

  It was so unlike her childhood; everyone seemed genuinely happy to see her as they welcomed her back and wished her luck. It was . . . nice.

  She sat at the small players table across from Sam. “Where did the guys go?”

  Sam pointed. “Ben went to get more beer and got sidetracked by that woman, and Nate is at the bar flirting with a waitress.”

  “Typical Nate.” She’d told him they weren’t going to sleep together earlier, so he was on the prowl. “Ben is talking to my aunt Millie. She’s been convinced she’s on her deathbed since I was little. She’ll keep him for a while.”

  “That’s just one of the things I love about Ben. His bedside manner is stellar. If I were into men, I’d marry Ben in a heartbeat.”

  Kline blocked the vision of Sam and Ben in wedding garb that popped into her brain. Sam wasn’t into Ben. She needed to tame the jealous thoughts. “Ben said you’ve been friends since residency?”

  “Yeah.” Sam nodded as she took a drink from her glass. “I feel I know you, because you were all he talked about for many years. So I hope you don’t mind me asking, but why aren’t you really mad at all of us for the ‘make Kline jealous plan’?”

  “I was at first, but now I’m more frustrated than angry. Clearly, you didn’t grow up in a small town. This is standard operating procedure around here.”

  “Nope. Chicago. Only child of overachiever parents. But I’d love to live here. Everyone has been so friendly. I hope Ben gets the clinic he’s been dreaming of, because he’s convinced me to work there with him.”

  “Seriously? You work in a busy ER. Don’t you think you’d get bored?”

  “No.” Sam’s expression turned sad. “I’m so tired of seeing kids with gunshot wounds I can’t save, or so high on drugs they fry their brains. Then there are the homeless so far adrift they wander in and make up symptoms so they can get out of the cold for a bit. I need a break.”

  “I can understand all of that, but the buttinskies and lack of entertainment here can be cloying for someone not used to it.”

  Sam smiled. “Ben’s family makes me feel a part of them, something I never had growing up. And I can always pop into Denver when I need culture and shopping. Ben has been teaching me how to fly a chopper so I’ll be able to help with transporting patients.”

  Kline had asked Ben to teach her to fly too, but he’d never had time while in med school. “Seriously, Sam, even everyday activities you take for granted aren’t available here. The nearest movie theater is fifteen miles away, and the only place to get even plain coffee to go is the diner. You can forget about ethnic food.” She’d learned to be happy with very little in her travels, but Sam was from a big city so she should be warned.

  Sam shrugged. “Ben can fill that void. He’s a great cook. He makes the best Thai I’ve ever had.”

  Kline’s glass stopped halfway to her lips. “He makes you Thai food too?”

  “I’m no threat, remember?” Sam patted Kline’s hand. “Ben learned to make it because it was your favorite. He said you’d miss it when you finally came home. I can’t imagine what took you so long.”

  “You and the celebrities who visit see this town as a quiet slice of paradise, a place to get away from your busy big-city lives. What’s not to like about the lake, and the beautiful forest, and all the fun recreation both provide? Add in the quaint shops surrounding a town square with a bandstand in the middle, for goodness’ sake, and who could resist it, right?”

  “Right.” Sam nodded.

  “While that’s all true, there’s a part that’s not obvious to visitors. Try growing up a Grant in a town run and dominated by Andersons. We’ve always been treated like the lower class with nowhere to escape the torment. I couldn’t wait to leave it all behind.”

  “Well, I hear you’re going to change all of that, right, almost Mayor-Elect?” Sam hitched her brows. “You and Ben are very similar. Both the type who feel compelled to help others, solve everyone’s problems, just in different ways. And locations.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She helped others because she felt called to it. She’d filled the hole Ben left in her heart by doing for others, but that kiss earlier proved her service hadn’t worked as well as she’d thought it had. A little something had definitely seeped through the hardened wall she’d erected to protect her heart.

  Sam leaned closer as if about to spill a juicy secret. “I think one of the reasons Ben is so drawn to you is that you don’t need him. Unlike his siblings who he raised, and the townspeople who depend on him for their health care and more. You’re a strong, independent woman, Kline.”

  Maybe always being on the defensive after her breakup with Ben had made her become too indepen
dent. Too ready to move on when she’d start to have feelings for men, before things could get complicated, drifting from place to place, avoiding close friendships so she wouldn’t get attached to anyone or anything she’d miss when she left. Now, after being locked up in prison, she knew she didn’t want that solitary life anymore. She wanted to be with people whom she cared for.

  Sam knew more about Ben and Kline’s past relationship than felt comfortable, but since a normally closed-mouthed person like Ben had shared so much with Sam, he probably trusted her completely.

  “Everyone does depend on Ben; he’s always played that role. He seems to thrive on that, so I’m not so sure about your theory, Sam. But I’m glad Ben has had a friend like you all these years.” Kline drained her glass. “I’m dying to know something before he gets back, though. When did he start with the straightening-and-organizing thing? Is it something serious?”

  “No. It’s just how he deals with stress. It’s not a full-blown compulsion or anything. He’s had to keep things orderly and under control since I’ve known him.” Sam chuckled. “During dinner, I could tell he was trying not to straighten everything on the table. I always threaten to write him a script and force it down his throat to prove to him that mild anxiety meds could help. Of course he insists he doesn’t have any stress problems.”

  “Right. Because that’d be a weakness in his eyes, and he wouldn’t want to have one of those.” So Ben had started his straightening tendencies after she’d left? Had her leaving had anything to do with that? He used to tell her she was his true north. The only person he wanted to be with, especially after a bad day.

  She glanced at Ben again. He laid a hand on her aunt’s arm as he talked to her, no doubt soothing away whatever new health worry she had. Then as if he felt Kline’s stare, he locked gazes with her and smiled. A smile she felt all the way to her toes.

  Yeah. She was still in love with Ben, dammit. So what was she going to do about it?

  Ben finally escaped Millie’s latest health-scare tale and hurried back to his own table with the beer. Until Nate had joined them a moment ago, Sam and Kline had been chatting alone, and that made Ben nervous. Sam knew too many details of his dating life post-Kline that he’d rather leave buried in the past. He’d been trying to forget Kline, and wasn’t proud of his behavior.

  Serial dating had reinforced there wasn’t someone better than Kline out there for him. The idea of marriage held no appeal because of it. Until now. Surely if Kline stayed for any amount of time she’d see that Anderson Butte wasn’t so bad now that she was a grown woman whom no one could bully. And that being near her mother as she aged would be a good thing.

  Sam had recently asked him to consider being a sperm donor so she could have a child. With Kline in the picture again, he was glad he’d told Sam he’d have to think about it. If he got back together with Kline, she might not be too pleased if he had to co-parent a child who wasn’t hers for the rest of their lives.

  He laid the new pitcher of beer on the table. “We’re holding up the show. Kline’s up first.”

  Kline’s dominant hand was uninjured, so she’d have to be the one to keep them afloat in the tournament. Just as she lifted her left hand to throw, his father’s voice boomed out from the crowd. “There’s my opponent now. What do you say to an impromptu debate, Kline?”

  Her face clouded with fury as she hissed at Ben, “Was this part two of your family’s plan? To ambush me?”

  He lifted his hands in defense. “Absolutely not, Kline. I swear.” He hoped he was telling the truth. He couldn’t imagine his grandmother doing that on purpose.

  The bar fell silent and all eyes turned to Kline. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, deciding if she should accept the mayor’s challenge.

  He needed to put a stop to things. “Dad, we’re having fun and playing some darts here. Pick another time and place.”

  His father smirked. “Will your boyfriend be doing all the talking for you during your campaign too, Kline?”

  That was sure to set Kline off. “Dad, she needs time to prepare—”

  “I’ve got this, Ben.” Kline turned her attention to the people watching. “I don’t want to ruin everyone’s fun tonight. It’s only fair we put it to a vote.”

  His father bellowed, “Who here would like to see what Kline knows about 401(k) plans and health care? Something that you all have because of me?”

  Murmurs went out through the crowd at the thinly veiled threat, and hands gradually popped up as residents worried he’d find a way to revoke their benefits. After a few moments, all hands were in the air except for Ben’s sisters’ and Josh’s.

  Dad said, “Great. Looks like we got ourselves a debate, Kline. Why don’t all of you go grab a drink on me, and then we’ll get the show going.”

  His father was using bribes and threats as usual. Ben tried to figure a way to stop the debate, but nothing popped into his head short of pulling the fire alarm. He moved beside Kline and whispered, “What can I do to help?”

  “You can stop coming to my rescue, please. I can handle your dad.” Kline filled her beer glass and then took a long drink. “But I wouldn’t mind a quick data dump of all you know about how the finances work around here.”

  It’d be smarter for him to feign ignorance so she wouldn’t win the debate and he’d get his clinic, but he couldn’t stand an unfair fight.

  He glanced at the line at the bar, estimating he had maybe fifteen minutes to cram into Kline’s head all he knew about the town’s finances. Beyond that, there wasn’t much more he could do to make it a fair playing field so he’d have to let her sink or swim on her own.

  By the time he had filled Kline in, two mics had been set up on the stage, and everyone had a drink in their hands. His uncle Brewster tapped on a mic to get everyone’s attention and the bar fell silent again. “Kline and Mitch, we’re ready for you.”

  Uncle Brewster winked at Kline before he hopped off the stage. Everyone in Ben’s family loved Kline except for his father. His sisters’ plan to fill the bar, forcing him and Kline to sit with them so they could pull their matchmaking crap, had backfired. Instead, their father had taken the opportunity to catch Kline unprepared.

  Brewster pulled a piece of paper from his back pocket. “Okay, I have a few questions here that I gathered in the last few moments—”

  Dad cut his brother off and said, “I think we should first address Kline’s motive for finally coming home.” He turned and faced Kline. “Word is, you’re pregnant and have come home to lick your wounds while hoping to win Ben’s heart back so the child will have a father.”

  Ben hopped off his barstool to defend Kline, but stopped when she burst out laughing. “Really, Mayor? Is that what the word is? Because that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not that it’s anyone’s business, but I’m not pregnant. I’m just here to visit my mom. Brewster, do you have a real question there?”

  Relieved, Ben sat down again.

  Sam slid her hand on his forearm and squeezed. “She’s going to kick your dad’s ass. Relax and enjoy the show.”

  The state of his clinic might be riding on the outcome of the debate, so relaxing wasn’t happening. The election was just a week away.

  Kline forced a smile and remembered to breathe after she’d winged yet another answer. Everyone in the bar had been amazingly quiet during her debate with the mayor. The townspeople hung on her every word, as if fascinated that someone had finally challenged the mayor. Luckily, her years of teaching middle schoolers had taught her to be quick on her feet when answering embarrassing or tough questions. Kids were notorious for wanting to get a laugh out of their friends.

  However, the mayor wasn’t joking around. He was doing his best to make her look bad by asking her 401(k) questions. So far she’d held her own, thanks to Ben’s coaching, but the questions were getting more intense.

  She surreptitiously checked the time on her cell. They’d set an hour limit, so if she could get through
the next ten minutes, she’d be home free.

  Brewster asked, “Kline, while many other small towns rely on revenue from taxes, utilities, and the lottery, traffic tickets are the second-largest source of income for many. Since we’re not on the beaten path, most of our income comes from taxes for services provided—mainly from the hotel. Seeing as Mitch Anderson owns most of the businesses in town, what could you do as mayor to increase our town’s income so we can maintain our current benefits and a balanced budget?”

  Crap. That was a damn good question. Ben’s dad pretty much ran the show financially.

  In the moments while her mind raced for an answer, the mayor said, “Kline’s a teacher. She’s probably never had more than two thousand dollars in her bank account at any given moment. She doesn’t have a clue how many millions it takes to run and maintain this town.”

  She had more than two thousand dollars, but she’d just bought a new car, so not enough more to disprove his overall point. Because of their town benefits, and based on what Wayne had said their teachers made, most everyone in town probably did have more money in savings than she had. She’d quickly googled similar-size towns right before the debate and looked at their budgets, but Anderson Butte was unique in the way it was run.

  Panic set in.

  As Kline’s mind raced for how many millions it might take to run Anderson Butte, Meg coughed and then tapped three fingers against her cheek.

  Thank you, Meg!

  Kline reeled in her anxiety and said, “Obviously I’ve not been privy to the town’s financial reports like you all have, but I’d have to think a town this size would have upward of a three-million-dollar budget.”

  The mayor’s jaw clenched. “Yes. But you still haven’t answered the initial question.”

  Phew. Now the tough part. How could she bring in more revenue?

  Something Nate had said earlier, and then the results of her research popped into her head. “Most small resort towns in Colorado make a good portion of their money from real estate transfer taxes. Since Mr. Anderson rarely sells property to outsiders, and then sells to his own family at severely reduced rates, that’s not an option for us. I’d do my best to lobby for more government funds and tax credits for all the open space we naturally maintain around here. On both Anderson, and even more so, on the Grant lands in our county. There is federal money to be had; we just have to jump through hoops to get it. I’d be more than willing to do that. It could be millions.”

 

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