by Cindy Kirk
She hadn’t said that man was him, but she didn’t have to, because she was the woman he’d been waiting for, the one he was meant to be with forever. All he needed was the time—and opportunity—to make her fall in love with him.
* * *
Ryan was discussing a legal precedent with Lexi’s husband, Nick, when Kate appeared.
She smiled at Nick. “Mind if I steal Ryan for a few minutes?”
“Of course not,” Nick said easily, taking a sip of wine. “I was just about to search for my wife anyway.”
The second the attorney stepped away, Kate wasted no time. She slipped her arm through Ryan’s and pulled him to a private area by the fireplace.
“Why, Kate, darlin’,” Ryan said with a teasing grin, “I didn’t know you cared.”
“I do care.” The smile left her lips, her expression serious. “About you. And about Betsy.”
“Betsy.” Alarm raced up Ryan’s spine. It skyrocketed when he glanced around the room and didn’t see her. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine.” Kate rested a hand on his arm. “I just need to know what your intentions are toward her.”
Ryan had a whole repertoire of pithy one-liners on the tip of his tongue. Then he saw the look on Kate’s face and realized this was serious. “Why do you ask?”
“Betsy and I talked. I think she’s confused. I just want to make sure you’re as serious about her as I think you are.”
“I adore Betsy,” he said.
Kate exhaled the breath she must have been holding. “Good. That’s what I thought.”
Last year Ryan had dated the woman at his side. Now they were what they’d been meant to be—good friends. “I understand about Joel. For the longest time, I didn’t.”
A tiny smile lifted the corners of Kate’s lips. “I know you didn’t.”
“In fact when it came out that you were Chloe’s birth mom, I found myself thinking it was awfully convenient that you’d fallen in love with her adoptive father.”
“Joel initially thought it was a little convenient, too,” Kate said with a sigh. “He accused me of using my relationship with him to get to Chloe.”
“But he finally realized that wasn’t true.” Ryan liked the happy ending Kate had found. It made him think that same happiness was possible in his life, too.
“Yes, he did.”
“Betsy isn’t going to believe I love her.” Ryan turned and planted his hands on the windowsill. He gazed unseeing into the darkness.
Kate placed a hand on his shoulder. “Why wouldn’t she believe you?”
“I’m the boy who cried wolf.” He whirled, frustration surging through his veins. The knowledge that he had only himself to blame fueled the anger.
“I’d convinced myself that what I’d felt for those other women was love.” Ryan gave a humorless laugh. He’d been such a fool. “What I feel for Betsy is so very different.”
“That’s how it was for me with Joel.” Kate’s eyes were filled with kindness rather than censure. He realized again how lucky he was to have her as a friend. “Anything I’d ever felt before paled in comparison.”
Ryan shook his head in wonder. “All I want is her to know my feelings are real and aren’t going to change. I don’t want her to have any doubts.”
“Words alone won’t do it. She’s going to be scared that you’ll change your mind.”
“I can’t imagine life without her, Kate. I like hanging out with her. I like working with her on cases. We have fun together. She gets me. And you know what a challenge that is.”
Kate’s chuckle lightened the mood.
“She’s the only one I want. The only one I’ll ever want.” He thought of the love token Betsy showed him. You and No Other. That pretty much summed up his feelings.
“You’re going to have to be patient, Ry. Show her by your words and your actions how much you care.” Kate’s eyes met his. “In time she’ll come to realize you’re sincere.”
“She has to, Kate,” Ryan said. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost her.”
Chapter Thirteen
Betsy hid behind a large boulder in Joel and Kate’s backyard, snowball in hand. For a while she thought that the promise of a snowball fight had been forgotten. Then after lunch the kids were sent outside to make a snow fort and to mark off the camp of the attacking army.
Once that was done, Kate took the two different flags her daughter had attached to broom handles and everyone counted off. Through the luck of the draw, or perhaps the unluck, she and Tripp were on the attacking team while Ryan was a defender of the fort.
“Cover me,” Tripp whispered from next to her.
He had their patrol’s flag in hand and this was their last chance to breach the fort and thus win the game. All of their other comrades had gotten hit and were now out of the game. Of course the other side had lost many soldiers, too. As far as Betsy knew, Ryan was still playing.
“I’ve got five or six snowballs made up,” she said to Tripp. “But I’m not sure I’ll be able to throw them fast enough to protect you.”
“No guts, no glory.” Tripp shot her a devilish smile. “If I go down, grab the flag and make a run for it.”
Betsy smiled. “Deal.”
“On the count of three,” Tripp said, his voice filled with determination. Betsy wondered what the hospital board would think now if they could see their new administrator with his eyes blazing and snowball in hand. “One, two, three—”
Betsy rose and began flinging snowballs.
She got Joel in the shoulder, Mary Karen in the belly. Her oldest boy, Connor, came out from nowhere with snowball in hand.
He howled with frustration when her snowball caught him in the leg.
Tripp was almost at the fort, all of his snowballs gone, flag in hand when Ryan stepped out. He stood there, with no protection, waiting for a sure shot at Tripp.
Betsy stumbled forward, one last snowball in hand. She didn’t know if Ryan discounted her or if he was too focused on Tripp to give her a second thought. But she released her ball just as he raised his arm, giving her a perfect shot to the abdomen.
He looked up in surprise as Tripp planted the flag, signaling the game was over and the blue team had won.
She didn’t have a chance to say anything to Ryan, who was looking at her with disbelief in his eyes, because her team mobbed her, jumping up and down in the snow, chanting her name.
Betsy couldn’t remember ever having quite as wonderful a day.
By the time they went inside and warmed up, the sun had already set. Tripp left, but not before giving Betsy a congratulatory hug and promising to call her.
Ryan seemed strangely silent. Of course, it could be only her imagination. She hoped he wasn’t disappointed in her. After all, she couldn’t throw the game just because she didn’t want to hit him with the snowball.
It wasn’t until they were in his truck that they had the opportunity to talk privately. “About the snowball—”
He raised one hand, then turned on the highway leading back into Jackson. “I have something to say first.”
A chill of dread slid down Betsy’s spine. Over and over she’d heard girls say that guys don’t like it if you beat them at sports. Or that you shouldn’t flaunt how smart you were if you wanted to get dates. It had seemed silly to her. Of course she hadn’t had that many dates either.
“I’m proud of you, Bets.”
Betsy blinked. “For what?”
“For being such a competitor.”
Had he forgotten her team had won? “If I hadn’t hit you with that snowball, the red team would have won. You’d have been the hero, not—”
Betsy stopped herself. To say more would feel like bragging.
“You.” Ryan smiled and took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. “That’s why I’m so proud. You gave maximum effort. You didn’t let anything stop you.”
“You don’t mind that I took you out?”
“I wish I’d played smarter
and God knows I hate to lose, but it wouldn’t have meant anything if I knew you’d handed me the win.”
A warmth ran through Betsy’s veins, and she was reminded again just why she’d fallen in love with this guy.
“But the Tripp thing,” he said, keeping his eyes firmly focused on the road. “I have to admit that bothers me.”
“You mean that he planted the flag in your fort?”
“Forget the fort.” Ryan’s hand cut a dismissive swath through the air. “That was a game. I’m talking real life. I’m talking about you wanting to date him and me at the same time.”
I don’t really want to date him, Betsy yearned to say, I only want you. But she kept her mouth shut.
He slanted a sideways glance. “You can date him if you want, but I’m not going to date anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”
“What if Adrianna came and begged you to take her out?” The question popped out of Betsy’s mouth before she could stop it.
“I’d say no.” Ryan met her gaze. “Even if she got down on her hands and knees.”
Betsy slipped her arm through his and moved as close to him as the seat belt would allow, resting her head on his shoulder. She heaved a contented sigh. “I like being with you.”
Ryan’s body relaxed. He took one hand off the wheel, then slipped it around her shoulder. “When we get to your house, invite me in?”
“Of course you can come in.” Betsy lifted her head slightly. “Though I don’t know what I have to offer you. The fridge is pretty bare.”
He pulled up to a stop light, then glanced her way, his gaze dark with desire.
A fire ignited in Betsy’s belly. The air became charged with electricity. Desire flowed through her veins like hot lava. She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep from self-combusting before they reached her apartment. She looked for Mr. Marstand’s car when they pulled into the parking lot, then remembered that he was spending the day—and hopefully the night—with his sister in Idaho Falls.
The only other obstacle to a romantic evening was Puffy. The dog ran to greet her when she opened the door, then turned and unexpectedly bared her teeth to Ryan.
“Hey, Puffball,” he said, looking startled.
The dog began to bark.
“I don’t know what to do with her,” Betsy said, feeling the mood slip away with each yip.
“I have an idea.” Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out a small green-colored bone. “I picked this up for her. My parents’ dog used to love these.”
“What is it?”
“It’s a Greenie. They’re good for dogs.”
“Puffy can be somewhat picky....”
Ryan leaned down, the bone dangling from his fingers. The Pomeranian paused midyap, swiveled her head and snatched it from his hand.
Betsy smiled as the animal ran across the room to sit on the rag rug in front of the sofa with her new acquisition. “I think she likes it.”
“And I like you.” He kissed Betsy’s nose.
“Want a tour of the house?”
He cocked his head, his gaze puzzled. “I think I’ve been in every room.”
“What about the bedroom?”
The light of understanding flashed in his eyes. “I’d like to check that room out again.”
Betsy reached over and cranked up the thermostat as they walked by. Once they reached her bedroom, Betsy’s courage began to falter. She’d never been good at this kind of stuff....
He must have sensed her distress because he moved to her side. “I know you’re probably ready to start flinging off clothes, but I’d like to just talk for a while.”
She narrowed her gaze. “Are you teasing me?”
He took her hand and tugged her to the bed. When she sat down, he took the place beside her, his fingers still laced with hers. “How about we kick off our shoes and see who can make them go the farthest?”
“They’ll hit the wall.”
“We could see whose shoes can hit the wall at the highest point.”
“Are you crazy? I don’t want marks on my—” She chuckled. “Okay, we’ll take off our shoes, but we’re not kicking them anywhere. Understand?”
Ryan slipped off one boot and then the other. “I guess I’ll have to think of another game to play.”
Betsy unlaced her shoes, trying to figure out what Ryan had up his sleeve.
“Is that a music box?” He pointed to a trinket box with a blue base covered with brightly colored horses.
Betsy leaned forward and grabbed the box. When she opened the top the horses began to revolve while the “Carousel Waltz” played. “My mother gave me this on my seventh birthday. I think it was because she knew I loved carousels.”
“A thoughtful gift.”
“Yes, it was.” Even though in recent years it seemed she could only recall the bad times, there had been some good, too.
“I’ve got an idea for a game,” Ryan said. “Have you ever played Pass the Parcel?”
“Is that sort of like hot potato where you pass something around and if you have it in your hand when the music stops, you’re out?”
“Yes, except we would pass the music box back and forth and when the music stops whoever has it will take off an item of clothing and share something about themselves.”
“Are you serious?”
“What’s the matter? No spirit of adventure?”
Betsy thought for a second. She’d been lucky today. If her luck continued just a little while longer, Ryan would soon be naked and so would she. It was a heady thought. “I’m game.”
For the first few minutes, the clothing came off slowly. A sock here. A sock there. She learned that Ryan hated asparagus but loved tuna. She shared her fear of spiders and love of anything chocolate. But now, they’d made it to the point where a shirt or pants would have to come off.
The music box moved carefully between them, the sound of the tinny waltz filling the air. Ryan had just passed it to her when the sound stopped.
“Share, then strip.” A devilish gleam shone in his eyes. “This time something about family.”
Betsy already knew her sweater was coming off. Thankfully she had the silky long underwear beneath the sweater. Sharing something about her family wasn’t that easy. She’d spent a lifetime not talking about her mother.
“How about your favorite family trip?”
Betsy started to say they’d never gone on any trips until she remembered that summer between fourth and fifth grade. “When I was ten we got in the car and drove to Devil’s Tower. It wasn’t much to see, but we sang songs and played games as we drove. Mom stopped at this old gas station, and we all had bottles of orange Nehi soda pop. Keenan and I thought she might buy a beer, but she didn’t.”
The memory was disturbing. Had her mother quit drinking that summer and she hadn’t noticed? Of course, even if she had, she hadn’t stayed sober.
“Sounds like a fun trip.” Ryan’s eyes glittered in the dim light. “Now the piece of clothing.”
“I’ll take off my sweater.”
“Good choice.”
Betsy took her time peeling the garment over her head in a slow strip tease. When Ryan’s smile faded Betsy knew he’d seen the silky long underwear.
“No wonder you weren’t cold when we were throwing snowballs,” he grumbled. “You’re dressed for twenty below.”
But she lost the next two rounds and found herself sitting before a fully clothed Ryan in only her bra and panties.
“I really like this game.” His gaze remained focused on her chest.
Beneath the heat of his gaze, her breasts began to strain against the lace fabric holding them in. “I’m feeling decidedly underdressed.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
He lost the next round and took off his sweater, leaving him with a short-sleeved T-shirt.
Betsy knew she would win the upcoming round. While he’d been busy ogling her, she’d been memorizing the tune so she would know just when to hand i
t off to him.
He placed it in her hands and she counted the beats slowly in her head. She was ready to move it to his hand when he gasped.
“Is that a spider on the dresser?”
Betsy whirled, music box in her hands. She barely noticed that the tune had quit. Her gaze frantically searched the top of the dresser. “Where?”
“I was mistaken,” Ryan said with an expression that was way too innocent. “Must have had something in my eye.”
She realized suddenly what he’d done. “You—you cad. You did that deliberately.”
“Did what?”
“You knew I was about to give you the music box, and you deliberately distracted me.”
“Betsy, Betsy, you’re so suspicious.” But the flash of a dimple in his left cheek told the story. “Before you take something off, tell me how many lovers you’ve had.”
“What?”
“We both know that after you strip this time, there’s not going to be much talking going on.” He gentled his tone. “I want to be prepared.”
“Two,” Betsy mumbled. “Just two.”
“When?”
“One my first year in college.” She’d been so lonely then. “The other was back in Kansas City. He was another paralegal in the same firm.”
“It’s been a while.”
Betsy felt her face grow hot. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“No, there’s nothing wrong with that,” he said. “It’s been a while for me, too.”
“But you and Kate...”
“Kate and I were never lovers.”
She thought of the blonde ski bunnies at the bar. “What about the girls, the blondes at Wally’s Place?”
“You think I slept with them?”
“You flirted with them.”
“You flirted with Tripp, but you didn’t sleep with him.”
“No,” she said. “That would have been wrong.”
He waited.
“Because,” she said, “I don’t care about him enough.”
“But you’ll sleep with me.”
“Yes.”
A warmth coursed through Ryan that had nothing to do with the fire burning in his belly. Betsy might say she wanted to date Tripp, but it was him that she liked, him that she trusted with her body and her heart. That’s when Ryan knew everything was going to be okay.