He'd looked NRMS up and perused their services. Tara had picked a good company. They were well respected and known for their successes. But they were pricey, too. Ryan couldn't see Harry wanting to hand over the kind of fees NRMS required. And now that Tara and Ryan were back together, there was no need for their services. Ryan would keep helping Harry out to ease his burden. At least, Ryan hoped Tara saw it that way.
But this was where things got tricky. Ten years ago their differing opinions about the lodge, career aspirations, and where to live had contributed to their breakup. Chad's death had just been the final blow. With them reconciling over that and getting past their grief and guilt, Ryan had high hopes they could overcome their other obstacles.
Hadn't ten years apart proven that they were meant to be together? No matter what?
Ryan had grown up since then, too. He realized how valuable career satisfaction was to life happiness, and he no longer intended to try to rob Tara of hers. If she still wanted to live and work in Seattle, they'd work some arrangement out. It was only a six-hour drive from Echo Bay to Seattle. It wouldn't be ideal, but he'd rather have her in his life, even part time, than lose her completely.
But surely she must realize that same thing about him? That she now held the power of his dreams in her hand. She could make them come true by marrying him. There was no longer any need for a property management company as the only way to keep Echo Bay Resort in the family.
Harry and Margie would be thrilled with the outcome. Tara would no longer have to fight them. They'd go willingly into retirement. Harry would be happy puttering around, doing as much as he wanted while Ryan shouldered the burden of day-to-day operations and all the financial worries. They could even keep their apartment in the lodge. Ryan would be happy to continue living in his cabin.
He grinned at the thought of Tara sharing it with him. And their children running around the resort, growing up like he and Tara had, loving the outdoors and the lake. There wasn't any place more fun for a kid to grow up than a year-round resort. Ryan was convinced of that.
He really didn't want to think of how Tara's Seattle job would mesh with these daydreams of children. They'd figure that all out when the time came.
He and Tara had dinner plans together—takeout. She'd offered to meet him in town, but it hadn't stopped snowing all day. And on top of what they already had, getting around was treacherous. Besides, he wanted a little privacy with her.
Ryan texted Tara that he was home. Thank goodness. He was late getting home and she was eager to see him and concerned about him on the roads. It hadn't stopped snowing all day. Tara bundled up for the walk to his cabin. Just outside the door to the lodge she ran into her grandfather.
Harry was bundled up as well, looking like an aging snowman—round, but not jolly—as he stared up into the sky and the falling snow.
"You'll catch your death out here, Grandpa." She mimicked Gram, smiling as she did.
"Huh?" He looked at her. "Oh, Tara."
"What are you doing out here in the dark? You can't be stargazing."
"No, no. Just checking out the roof." Harry pointed.
Tara followed his finger. "It looks like something out of a winter storybook."
Harry shook his head. "It looks like trouble, like too much weight for the roof. That's what it looks like."
Tara frowned. "It's cold and the snow is lightweight."
Harry kept shaking his head. "Even lightweight snow adds up. Like a lot of us, that roof is old and can't do as much as it used to." His breath came out in white wisps as he spoke. "It needs to be shoveled, and soon, or we'll have no end of trouble on our hands."
Tara studied Harry. "I hope you're not planning on getting up there." It was less a question and more a command.
"Me?" Harry was studying the roof again. "Not too many years ago I would've. But not now. No. I'm thinking of Ryan."
Tara looked up at the expanse of roof with all its peaks. She didn't like the idea of anyone going up on the roof, not in this weather. Not anytime, really. Especially not someone she loved. "Looks like an awful lot of roof for one person to clear. Did Ryan promise he'd do it?" She crossed her fingers, hoping not.
"A lot of work? Not for a young man. Especially if he's got a few friends to help." Harry smiled at her. "Yeah, Ryan said he'd do it. Get a few of his buds over here to help him."
Tara shielded her eyes from the falling snow and studied the roof again in the dim light. "You can't expect Ryan to do all our work here. There are services, professionals with professional snow-blowing equipment who'll do it for a reasonable fee. Let me call one."
"No, no, no. No use paying someone. Ryan will do it."
Sometimes Harry could be too tight with a dollar.
"Where you headed to this time of evening, missy?" Harry asked.
Oops. Here was her protective grandpa rearing his head.
"To Ryan's. For dinner." She tried not to sound belligerent and defensive. Challenging. Harry wasn't going to scare Ryan off. Not this time.
But her grandpa was getting old and losing his fight. "Huh. Well, you tell him to get his tail over here tomorrow evening and get this roof shoveled off before it collapses on our heads."
She shook her head. "Will do."
"You have a good time, then. And don't get back too late." Harry headed toward the lodge. "And make sure Ryan walks you home."
Right, Tara thought. On all counts.
It was a quick and beautiful walk through the woods to Ryan's. As she strolled up his driveway, she studied his roof. Judging from the scant amount of snow piled on it, it appeared he'd recently cleared it.
Smoke came out of his chimney, and the windows to his cabin were warmly lit and inviting. Ryan met her at the door.
"Watching for me?" She wrapped her arms around him.
"You took your time getting here." He kissed her lightly on the lips. "You're freezing. Get in here and warm up."
She pressed her cold cheek against his. "Grandpa waylaid me. Said something about telling you to get over to the lodge and shovel the roof. He's worried about it."
Ryan grabbed her hands and pulled her inside, shutting the door behind him. "I'll get over there tomorrow if I can."
"I'll call someone to come do it, Ry. I don't want you up on the roof in this weather." Tara slid her coat off and hung it on a rack next to the door before taking off her hat and boots. "Something smells good in here."
He slid her arms around her again and nuzzled her neck. "I think that's you."
"You're saying I smell like garlic bread?"
He laughed. "I picked up Italian—manicotti, garlic bread, and salad."
"Sounds good to me. I'm famished."
A timer went off. He released her, grabbed a pair of oven mitts, and pulled a pan of steaming manicotti from the oven.
"Anyone ever tell you that you look handsome in the kitchen?"
"Only in the kitchen?"
"What can I say? I'm hungry," she said. "Can I help you with something?"
He set the manicotti on the table. "Everything's ready. And waiting for you."
He'd put a red tablecloth on the table and white candles were lit. A fire crackled in the living room just across from the kitchen. She was touched by his romantic gesture and thinking how this little cabin had potential.
They ate dinner, making small talk and eyes at each other. After they finished and cleared the dishes, they retired to the sofa in front of the fireplace.
Ryan sat with his arm around her. "Only four days until Christmas Eve. Looks like we'll have a white one this year."
Something about his tone was a little too eager and made her laugh. "You sound like a kid. Eager."
"There's nothing wrong with being excited about Christmas."
"You must have asked Santa for something special," she said.
He grinned.
He's up to something. She realized with a start that in all probability he had a surprise for her. Up until that moment getting him a
gift hadn't even crossed her mind. Things had happened so quickly and suddenly. And now, what was the gift giving protocol? She opened her mouth to tell him not to go overboard, but shut it again before speaking. What if she was wrong?
"Have you decided what you're wearing to the Christmas Eve party at the Basin?" he asked.
"I thought tacky Christmas sweaters were the required dress." She was teasing him.
"Please. Spare me that."
"Reindeer ears?"
"I was thinking that white fuzzy sweater of yours, the one that makes you look like a sexy snow bunny, and your knee-high boots."
She laughed. "What kind of fantasy are you concocting?"
"None. I just want to show you off to the other guys at the party and make them jealous." He paused. "Good and jealous."
"In that case, I'll wear something that will make you proud." She leaned her head against his shoulder, wondering how to bring up her meeting. All through dinner they'd both danced around it.
She wanted to be honest and upfront with him and not let anything come between them again. "I met with the property management company today."
"Was that today?" He hugged her tightly against him.
He was just a little too casual.
"It was a good meeting." She was eager to make him the offer. It wasn't something physical, but she couldn't wait until Christmas to give him this gift.
"Was it?"
"Oh, Ryan! Don't play coy. You can ask about it." She pulled away and smiled at him. "Cheryl had some excellent ideas."
Ryan frowned. "Did she?"
"Yes, and one of them concerns you."
He perked up and gave her a hopeful look. "Really?"
"Yes, I'd like to make you an offer you can't refuse."
"Now that sounds intriguing."
She grinned. "How would you like to be the new manager of Echo Bay Resort?"
16
"Manager?" Ryan's throat constricted. He barely got the words out, feeling as if Tara had just kicked him in the gut. "You're still going to engage NRMS?"
Tara looked puzzled. "Yes, of course. And I'll make it a stipulation of our contract that they hire you as the manager."
"Nothing's changed?" He removed his arm from Tara's shoulder.
She frowned. "Why should it?"
"You've convinced Harry and Margie?"
"Not exactly. We all have our concerns. But I think we'll be able to work them out." She clutched his arm. "Especially with you on our team. I want you at the helm. You love the lodge. With their expertise and your love of the place, we'll have a winning team."
Ryan stared at her, wishing he'd heard her wrong and knowing he hadn't. She was starting to look worried.
"No." He fought to remain calm. "I won't be your manager."
"But it's what you've always dreamed of!" Her eyes were wide. "If it's money you're worried about, we'll do our best to be competitive with Copper Creek." She grinned, trying to make light. "And you'll have more control over the cookbook."
He shook his head.
"Oh, come on. Once we get the lodge back on its feet and more profitable, we'll be able to pay you more. Maybe even give you partial ownership."
He popped to his feet. "You don't get it, do you, Tara? I don't want to manage Echo Bay. I want to own it. I want to own it with you. Why do you need a property management company now?"
She stared at him and bit her lower lip, which meant she was nervous. "We have something special, Ryan. Or the start of it. I love you, but it's too soon to tell where it will go. In the meantime, I have to look out for Gram and Grandpa."
If he thought she'd kicked him in the gut earlier, she'd just stabbed him and twisted the knife. Too early? What was too early? He wasn't some whacko she'd met online or known a few days. They'd known each other their entire lives. And had wasted ten years of it. Or so he'd thought. But Tara wanted to treat him as some new relationship guy? Someone she couldn't trust?
He ran his hands through his hair until it stood up on end. The fire suddenly felt too hot and his heart too cold. He'd been a fool.
He took a deep breath. "I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought we had something. I stupidly assumed all our years together meant something to you."
He tried to keep the bitterness out of his voice, but he was failing miserably. "But, I guess not. The beginning?" He shook his head. He was just dumbfounded. Blindsided.
"Ryan. Please. Don't."
He shook his head again. Seemed he couldn't stop. "You don't get it, do you? This is about us. Having faith in us staying together." He paused, staring at her while wishing he had the strength to look away. "You still don't trust me. Not with your heart.
"Have it your way, then, Tara. If you don't want to be with me, so be it. But I'm still going to get the lodge."
She popped to her feet. He may have been mistaken, but he thought there were tears in her eyes. Or maybe he imagined it. "I'm sorry, Ryan. I do want to be with you, but if that's the way you feel, I'd better go."
She turned on her heel and walked to the door. Her coat caught as she pulled it off the rack, nearly toppling it. She yanked on her boots and jerked on her coat and hat, then reached for the doorknob.
For a moment, he thought she was going to leave without saying anything more. What was there to say?
But she did turn and tears were standing in her eyes. "You're being an ass. Just like before." She pulled the door open and strode out of the cabin, and possibly his life.
He was convinced she'd slam the door. To his surprise, she closed it softly, as if she was shutting the door on the chapter of their life that could have been, leaving him standing there watching her walk away. For the second time.
Blondie sensed something was up and whined and howled.
Ryan stared at the door. Ten years ago he hadn't gone after her. It looked like that had been the right decision after all.
Jim Dickson stopped by the lodge to shoot the breeze with Harry and discuss the Santa Ski. He looked like his jolly self, dressed in a red hat and sweatshirt that emphasized his round belly. His big white beard was immaculately trimmed to match the ideal of Santa. He sat at the counter with Harry, drinking coffee.
Margie served him a piece of her Dutch apple pie. "I'm thinking this is the pie flavor I'm going to donate. Everyone loves apple." She handed Jim a fork. "It's a universal standard."
Stormy came by with the coffee pot and grinned at Jim as she topped off his cup. "Shouldn't you be at the North Pole?"
"What?" He nodded toward the window and the heavily falling snow outside as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. "I thought this was the North Pole. I practically had to use the sleigh and reindeer to get here. Don't know how I'm going to make it back to town."
Harry shook his head as Stormy disappeared to wait on another guest. "Stupid, stupid snow. I'm afraid it's going to cave in the roof."
Margie studied her husband, hoping he didn't let his worry affect his heart. Stress wasn't good for him. Which was why she had to make sure Ryan and Tara got together and took over the lodge. She resisted grinning to herself. In that regard, it was beginning to look like she'd be getting exactly what she wanted for Christmas this year.
"Oh, Harry," she said to him in that familiar tone she'd been using for at least forty of their last fifty years together. "Don't you go thinking about getting up on that roof. You just wait for Ryan."
"Wait for Ryan. Wait for Ryan! We may not have a roof over our heads if we wait for him much longer. If I were ten years younger I'd have shoveled the darn thing days ago."
Margie tried to hide her skepticism. But she was too late.
"Don't give me that look, woman. You know it's true." He was frowning at her.
Jim laughed, the deep merry rumble of a real Santa. "Speaking of Ryan..." He looked around the lodge. "Is Tara around?"
Margie shook her head. "No. She's over at Ryan's having dinner with him. I don't expect her back for quite a while."
"Well, good the
n." Jim leaned into her. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but Ryan paid me a visit today. He has a special gift he wants me to give Tara on Christmas Eve."
Margie gasped and clasped her hands in front of her. Jim's tone implied exactly what that gift was. "No!"
Jim put a finger to his lips. "Shhh. This is just between us. But if you have any doubts about how Tara might receive it, now's the time to tell me. If it's not on her Christmas list, better for all involved for Santa to cross it off." He winked.
Margie couldn't keep from grinning now. "Don't worry about Tara. She's had that on her list for years. She just hasn't always realized it."
But Harry was frowning. "Now, Margie, don't you go getting ideas. Or your hopes up. And don't you say so much as a peep to Tara. This is between those two young people. None of our business.
"And, Jim, I'm not so sure of Tara's intentions. This buddy-buddy business with Ryan again is all very sudden. Our Tara can be slow to change her mind about things and stubbornly independent—"
Margie flapped her hands at him as if she was shooing him off the subject. "Be quiet, old man."
Harry shook his head and frowned at her. "It's no secret what my wife wants for Christmas. But wanting doesn't make it so. In my opinion, Ryan's being reckless and moving too fast."
Just then the bell over the front door tinkled. Margie looked up to see who the new arrival was as a diversion from wanting to throttle her husband. "Tara?"
Uh-oh. Tara's face was pink, too pink to be just from the cold. Her nose was red and her eyes were watering. She dabbed at them with her gloved hand. She's been crying.
Tara looked surprised to see them all sitting at the counter. And in truth, they were all staring at her. Margie had to force herself not to ask Tara if her ears were burning.
Christmas Duet: A Big City, Small Town Christmas Romance Bundle Page 31