From Good Guy To Groom (The Colorado Fosters #6)

by Tracy Madison

  He’d like to think her body had missed his touch, and that was the cause of her waking so quickly, but the truth probably hovered closer to the simple fact that he’d moved and, though he’d been careful and slow, had jostled her enough to rouse her from sleep. The most probable scenario did not alter how much he loved the idea of Andi instinctively recognizing his absence.

  Not in any way, shape or form.

  Pausing at the edge of the path, a mere couple of feet before the clearing where the hot spring existed, he drew in a breath and just...looked. Appreciated. Perhaps even loved, just a little, the sight of fire and beauty and peace. The sight of Andi.

  She’d brought a blanket with her, which she now sat on directly in front of the hot spring. So close he’d bet she could feel the puffs of steam on her skin. Touching her bare arms, caressing her cheeks and her lips. Her chin rested on angled knees, her arms wrapped around her legs for stability, and her long hair was loose and vibrant, capturing and reflecting the sunlight in the same magical, mystical way as the hot spring itself.

  Beautiful was not an expressive enough word to describe Andi in this moment. Her clothes were simple enough: a long, flowing yellow skirt and a sleeveless white shirt that tied behind her neck, but even so, she was this intoxicating combination of pure innocence and seductive siren, crackling energy and cool tranquility. She called to every part of his heart, his head, his body.

  She just called to him. Period.

  Okay, he’d had his minute. Standing here any longer, without Andi’s knowledge, would be an invasion of her privacy. Her sanctuary. Ryan retreated a few paces, just out of her vantage point, and started to whistle—loudly, but not too much so—as he moved forward again, retracing his steps and giving her notice, hopefully not too obtrusive, of his arrival. His presence.

  This time, he didn’t pause at the entrance to the clearing. He kept walking toward Andi, who was now facing his direction, a wide—and dare he believe?—welcoming smile on her face. She patted the space next to her on the blanket and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

  “You found me,” she said. “I thought you might. Wasn’t sure, though.”

  He almost said that he’d always find her no matter where she might be at any given minute, but hell...in the wrong context, that could come off as stalker-ish. Certainly not his intent and absolutely not the view he wanted this woman to have of him.

  Smiling, he sat down beside her and said, “Truthfully, I didn’t have to guess. Your aunt let me in on where you were when I stopped by after work. Can’t really take credit for finding you.”

  One eyebrow arched in surprise. “Oh. You tried to find me at the house?”

  “I did. I tried calling, but when I couldn’t get you there, I figured a face-to-face might be best. Since you indicated that what you wanted to talk about was important.”

  Long lashes fluttered in a blink. “It is, and I’m nervous about your response,” she admitted, altering her gaze to the hot spring. “But...okay, you’ll understand. I mean, I think you will, and maybe you’ll even be happy I made this choice. For...um, the reasoning behind.”

  “I’ll be happy, regardless, if your decision makes you happy.” And he meant those words, but...hell. She was going home sooner than planned. That was the first thought that hit Ryan’s brain. He didn’t want her to leave. Not yet. Maybe not ever. “Tell me, Andi. What choice?”

  “Well...the thing is, I’m firing you. Effective immediately,” she said, still staring straight ahead. He couldn’t see her eyes, her expression. And he wanted—needed—to see both. “I have an appointment on Friday, at Creek Wood Medical Center. I’ll need copies of my file forwarded to them before then. Can...um, can you handle that for me?”

  “Of course,” he said instantly, his thoughts circling. She’d fired him—why, exactly?—but she wasn’t leaving Steamboat Springs. Okay. “For where you are in your rehabilitation, Creek Wood is a great choice. You’ll do fine there, Andi. I’ll forward your file tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” Naturally, he was curious about her decision but kept that to himself. She’d tell him sooner or later of her own accord. Besides which, he had a few potentials in mind, one on each end of the negative to positive range.

  On the lower end of that scale, he might have made her uncomfortable after last night’s events and, therefore, she’d chosen to distance herself from him. A possibility he disliked—doubted, too, as far as that went—but couldn’t outright ignore.

  Even in such a scenario, though, he wouldn’t change a second of what had occurred. Twenty-four hours ago, Andi had edged too close to collapse. A reality he’d recognized the instant her front door had opened. And today, she looked...still tired. It would take more than one night of rest to regain what she’d lost. But those dark circles weren’t nearly as prevalent, and the translucent quality to her skin had mostly vanished. Her movements, as slight as they were, didn’t shake her muscles. She appeared stronger. Healthier.

  For those reasons right there, he wouldn’t—even if he could—reverse time and alter his decisions. They were sound. They were what she’d required. And he’d give that to her again in an instant. So, no, he held zero regrets.

  And on the higher end of that scale? All good. Nothing but good.

  “Are you upset?” she asked. “Or curious, I guess, as to why I decided to end our professional relationship? Or... I don’t know, what are you thinking?”

  “Mostly, that I wish you’d look at me. So I can see you.”

  “Oh. Maybe in a minute. But not quite yet.”

  “Okay,” he said easily, watching her closely. “Whenever you’re ready. And, yes, naturally I’m curious, but, Andi, I am nowhere near upset. Why would I be? You’ve taken ownership over your body and formed a decision. I respect and honor that, whether you tell me the whys or not.”

  A soft, slippery sigh escaped. She gave her head a slight shake and sighed again. “I’ve known a lot of patient, good and caring people in my life. Male and female. But Ryan, I have never before known someone who exudes the amount of patience, kindness and care the way you do. These traits are as much a part of you as the color of your eyes and hair. Oh. Your optimism, too. And your sense of humor. It’s like...I don’t know, like you stand in sunlight. All the time.”

  “I’m honored beyond belief that you see me in such a way, but...I’m not perfect. I have my bad days, just like anyone else.”

  “Oh, I didn’t say you were perfect,” she said, her tone breezy. Sarcastic. And utterly cute. She picked up a small stone and played with it in her hand, rolling it between her fingers. “You’re obstinate...frustratingly so, at times. And that smile of yours should be outlawed.”

  A laugh curled in the back of his throat. His smile, huh? “How so?”

  “Let’s start with the charm factor. It’s way up there. Why, I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that you’ve yanked yourself out of hot water on numerous occasions, solely due to...to how charming your smile is. In my opinion, that gives you an unfair advantage. Over everyone.”

  “Uh-huh. What else?” Lord, he was enjoying this conversation. Learning how this woman’s brain worked, how she viewed him and his smile. “Gotta tell me the rest now.”

  “Actually, I don’t. But...I will.” Now she switched positions so her entire body faced his. And he was ever so grateful. Ever so happy to look into her eyes as she spoke. “When you smile, in addition to the charm, there’s this layer of...joy, I guess, which makes sense if a person is happy enough to smile. But with you, it’s bigger, bolder. Warmer and all encompassing.”

  “I fail to understand your logic. Why is a...joyful smile bad?”

  “Not bad,” she said quickly, “Just unfair and...no. Let me finish, before my courage evaporates.” Pale pink shaded the delicate, lovely line of her cheeks. “The rest of what
I have to say will lead directly into why I made the decision I did. We need to talk about that.”

  Awareness and instinct roared to life, burning in his gut like wildfire, ordering him to pay complete attention to Andi, to this moment. To whatever might happen next. It would be important. Significant. But he also had the strong sense that if he moved too fast, said the wrong words, she’d jump. Bolt like a rabbit. And this moment would disappear.

  Perhaps forever.

  Playing it light, he shrugged and gave her hair a gentle tug. “There’s more?” he asked. “In addition to the get-out-of-jail-free charm and the big-and-bold joy?”

  “Yes.” The pink darkened, bloomed into a long-stemmed red rose. And his heart lurched, the heat in stomach expanded. “It’s like this,” she said. “You smile at me and...and my body responds.”

  Now that was interesting. Enlightening. Exciting. Not to mention enticing as all get-out. Still he kept with the light, teasing routine. Better for her peace of mind—so she’d keep talking, keep letting him in—and better for his, too, so he didn’t take that leap just yet. “What type of response?” he asked. “Nausea? Headache? If so, those are symptoms of illness, darlin’. I mean, sort of unfair to blame my smile if you’re getting the flu. Don’t you think?”

  “Oh, no, you don’t get to name my responses. They’re mine!” Another toss of her glorious hair and, with her eyes gleaming with a new type of fire, she sent the stone skimming along the water’s surface. “And I’m not getting sick. I don’t have the flu. This is your fault. And your smile’s.”

  “Forgive me, please.” Holding his hands up as if in surrender, he smiled with every ounce of charm and joy he could muster. Come on, how could he not? “You’re absolutely correct. Go ahead then, explain these responses.”

  “If you’ll hush for a minute, I will.”

  “I’m listening. But I’m pretty sure that at the end of this, we’ll determine you’re coming down with a cold if not the flu. Or allergies, maybe.” He nodded. “I’m gonna say allergies.”

  The fire in her gaze burned brighter. Hotter. Lord, she was beautiful.

  “Butterflies. They’re annoying, Ryan, with all the fluttering and swishing and diving around they do in my stomach. My mouth goes dry. I suddenly have difficulty breathing. Or thinking. Or—and this has nothing to do with my leg—walking.” She swallowed visibly, and a shiver rippled along her skin. “Yes, your smile should be outlawed. Because, damn it, you’re irresistible enough without that particular superpower.”

  “That’s quite the compliment.” Seeing Andi this way—vivacious and speaking her mind—was akin to a blessing. And learning of his effect on her? Well, that was a gift to be treasured. “Irresistible, huh?”

  “In the annoying sense, yeah,” she said. “So I had to fire you.”

  “In order to focus on my irresistible nature, I’m guessing,” he said, keeping his voice and his body language firmly in the laid-back camp. “That’s okay, Andi. I would rather do the same with you. Focus on you. On everything about you because, darlin’, you have the same hold on me.”

  “And there you go again, being irresistible.” She shut her eyes and straightened her shoulders, scraped her bottom lip with her teeth. Searching for strength or courage or the right words, he wagered. Or all of the above. She must have found them, because she opened her eyes and looked at him dead on. “I think I might want to step on that path you mentioned at the festival.”

  Just that fast, his lungs refused to take in air and his thoughts became a muddle. While he wouldn’t describe the sensation in his gut as butterflies—more like hopping crickets—he couldn’t deny the similarities to her statement. And, yup, his mouth? Dry as a sheet of sandpaper. Surely, if he had to, he’d be able to walk just fine...but he was glad he didn’t have to put that theory to the test.

  Because this woman he couldn’t get out of his head was willing to give him—them—a chance. What more could he ask for?

  Not one damn thing. Not yet, anyhow.

  “You’re dangerous, Miss Caputo,” he said lightly, “because now, I think I’m the one catching the flu. Or a cold. I seem to be suffering from the same symptoms you just listed. Can’t be a coincidence, right?”

  “Probably not a coincidence, but I don’t know...”

  He gave her a minute to continue. When she didn’t, he asked, “You don’t know what? Tell me what’s on your mind, Andi.”

  “I don’t know what to make of any of this,” she admitted, lifting her shoulders into a small shrug. “Because on my end, I can’t be sure where these...ah...feelings are coming from. If they’re real. If they’d even be here without the care you’ve shown me as my physical therapist.”

  Pieces that should’ve clicked before came together. Maybe they hadn’t due to being blinded by his attraction, or—the better scenario—the concern hadn’t reared its ugly head because he knew, the way his father had known about his mother, that this woman was special.

  Ryan had worried about the probability during the early portion of his relationship with Leah. He’d let the concern go over time, but it had existed. Even now, with the possibility on the table with Andi, he found he still wasn’t worried. He believed in what he felt.

  Evidently, however, the idea troubled Andrea. As a nurse, she would be well aware of how patients sometimes misinterpreted strong emotion toward their caregiver as falling in love. For her, that concern was one hundred percent valid and due his respect and understanding. She’d get both, plus a hell of a lot more. As much as she would accept, he’d give.

  “Ah,” he said, “so this is why I’m minus one client.”

  “Yep. This is why.”

  Again he waited for her to say more. Again she didn’t. He had the sense that a little reassurance of his feelings would go a long way, but how much of his heart did he want to put on the line? How great a risk was he willing to take? The answer came to him swiftly, leaving no room for argument. All of his heart. As much risk as proved necessary.

  Right now, the outcome—good or bad or somewhere in between—lurked in the distance. And whatever that outcome became, it was essential that he knew he’d given this chance with Andi every available resource. If he didn’t put himself out there, prepared for the worst, he didn’t have a chance in hell at receiving the best.

  “You were honest with me. I will be honest with you,” he said in a decisive manner. “I’m crazy about you, Andrea. I might already be halfway gone, as a matter of fact. If not more. But I understand your reservations, and we can take this at whatever pace is most comfortable.”

  “You don’t have the same reservations?”

  “Nope.” He considered bringing Leah into the conversation, but decided now wasn’t the time. Leah was his past. And the only woman Ryan saw in his present, his potential future, was sitting right here with him. Down the road, when they weren’t in the fragile place of new beginnings, he’d share the entire story. “But that’s okay,” he said, returning his focus to Andi. “I’m not standing where you are, and even if I were...well, whatever you need is fine by me.”

  Relief simmered in Andi’s expression. “I’m glad you understand. I can’t make any promises here. You know that, right? I don’t know where any of this will lead. If anywhere. I don’t want to give you a false impression.”

  “You’re not. We’re completely on the same page.” He reached over and tweaked her nose. “I don’t know where this is leading, either, but I would rather move forward without any guarantees—we get none, anyway—than guess wrong.”

  “Of course, you’re right.” She exhaled a breath and graced him with a smile. Now that smile? Far more dangerous than his. “You needed to know where I stood. And now you do.”

  “Yup. Now I do.”

  Then, because his arms demanded he do so, he pushed himself closer to Andi and slowly brought her to him
. “In case you’re wondering,” he said, brushing her hair away from her face, “I very much want to kiss you. I’m dying to taste you, sweetheart.”

  “Oh.”

  “‘Oh’?”

  “Yes. Oh. Because before? At the festival? I should’ve said yes.” Her voice now held notes of longing, desire, rather than nervous shyness. And the sound of Andi’s desire, knowing it was directed toward him, almost knocked him senseless. “I’ve thought about kissing you ever since. Wondered, too. Maybe imagined what it would feel like, be like. Once or twice.”

  “Oh, yeah?”

  “Hmm. Yes.”

  “Interested in replacing imagination with reality?” He touched her bottom lip, which trembled gently, with his thumb. “Because if so, we can solve that dilemma right now.”

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I am very interested.”

  Ryan breathed in the scent of Andi—that same warm, sunny combination of coconut and lime and flowers—and lifted her onto his lap. He liked her there, close. Watched as another shiver, stronger than the last, rippled and threaded its way down her body. Out of anticipation of their kiss, he thought, rather than anxiety or embarrassment or uncertainty.

  A good state of affairs, indeed.

  “I’ve waited for this,” he said, cupping her face with his hands. “But you’ve been through a lot lately. You’re sure, Andi? Ready for this step?”

  “Yes,” she said, confidence instilling her voice. “I’m ready. Exceedingly so.”

  Well, then. No reason to belabor the inevitable, now was there? Capturing her gaze with his, he held it for one beat...two beats...three. He lowered his mouth to hers, and a soft, sultry moan escaped from the back of her throat, kicking the desire he already had for this woman up another notch on the thermostat.

  Lord, she was lovely. Delectable. Delicious and, for this second of time, all his.