by Jill Shalvis
“Ford,” Tara breathed. “Oh my God. Your leg.”
He felt her drop to her knees and had the vague thought that he wished she was going into that position for a different reason altogether.
“Is he dead?”
This from Chloe, and Ford huffed out a laugh. “Not yet,” he assured her.
Tara whipped out her cell phone, punched in 9-1-1, and glared at Chloe.
“What?” Chloe asked innocently. “Look, some sisters help you move, but a real sister helps you move bodies.” She patted Ford’s shoulder. “Glad it’s not necessary, Big Guy.”
“Me too,” he muttered.
“Help,” came a whisper.
Everyone looked over at Logan. He was sitting on the ground, hands clasped around his throat. His face was sweaty and beet red.
“Logan, not now,” Tara said. “Ford’s hurt.”
“I was… stung by a bee,” he rasped out and fell over.
Tara gasped and abandoned Ford, crawling over to Logan. “He’s allergic!”
Great, Ford thought. Fucking great. Even while passed out, Logan could upstage him.
The ambulance came. Tara burned breakfast again. And within thirty minutes someone had already updated Facebook with:
Tara nearly kills both of her men!
Mia saved the day, coming up with pancakes that she’d learned to make in Home Ec class. She served the guests with Maddie’s help while Tara rode in the ambulance with both Ford and Logan.
An hour and a half later, Tara was sitting in the hospital waiting room with Mia on one side, Chloe on the other. Maddie had taken over inn detail.
They hadn’t had any news on either Logan or Ford, and Tara felt herself losing it. “What’s taking so long?” she asked for the tenth time.
Chloe sat calmly reading Cosmo. She turned the page, eyed the very good-looking, half-naked guy there, and hummed her approval. “Maybe they’re surgically removing their In Love with Tara gene.”
Tara narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means I still don’t get it. How is it that you have those two guys falling for you? You’re grumpy and bossy and demanding and anal—not to mention slightly obsessive compulsive.” She paused. “No offense.”
Tara looked over at a quiet Mia. “Still glad you found your parents?”
A smile curved her lips. “I have my moments.”
Chloe laughed. “I really, really like you.”
Tara elbowed her, then turned to Mia again. “Thanks for your help in the kitchen during the fiasco.”
“No problem. I’ve been wondering something.”
Oh God. Another question, Tara thought.
“Amy, the waitress at the diner, told me you never burned anything over there. Ever.”
“That’s true,” Tara said over Chloe’s snort.
“Why is that?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea.”
Finally, a doctor came out to talk to them. Logan had been treated for his severe allergic reaction to the bee sting and was going to be fine. Ford had a broken leg and had been drugged up to have it set. He was loopy, but would also be fine—in six to eight weeks.
Mia went in to see Ford first. While she did, Tara called the B&B and checked in. According to Maddie, their guests were fine and out for the day. Two more people had checked in but all was well.
Taking a deep breath, Tara walked down the hall, stopping to buy two balloons. Both the men in her life had acted like children today; so she figured what the hell.
Logan’s room came first. He was sitting up in his bed, flirting with a pretty nurse who was hovering over him taking his pulse. “I’ve always wanted to meet a real-life NASCAR driver,” she was saying.
Tara rolled her eyes and knocked on the jamb. “Am I interrupting?”
The look on the nurse’s face said yes, she was absolutely interrupting, but she was professional enough to shake her head. “I just have to get the doctor to sign his forms and then he can be released.” With one last little longing glance in Logan’s direction, the woman was gone.
Logan smiled at the balloons. “For me?”
“One of them.” Tara handed it over and kissed his cheek. “You’re an idiot.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“But I love you anyway.”
“Yeah.” His smiled faded. “But you’re not in love with me.”
Tara sat at his hip and looked him in the eyes. “And you are, Logan? In love with me? Truth,” she said when he opened his mouth. “Are you in love with me, the me I am right now?”
“Well not right now,” he said, brooding. “Right now you’re kinda mean.”
“How about the me who has a life now separate from yours? The me who’s now involved in her sisters’ lives, the me who can no longer drop everything and travel the world to be your greatest cheerleader without a care to her own life? That me, Logan. Are you in love with that me?”
Logan looked at her for a long beat, then expelled a breath. “I don’t know that you.”
“No, you don’t.” Tara reached for his hand. “Which means you can’t love me.”
He was quiet a minute. “I didn’t expect us to turn out this way,” he finally said. He brought their joined hands up to his mouth and brushed his lips across her knuckles. “I do see what you love about Lucky Harbor, though. It’s a cool place.”
It wasn’t the place. Tara knew that now. It was the people in it, and the relationships she’d made here. It was… home.
“So if you’re not coming back to me,” he said after a while, “what are your plans?”
“I’m moving on.”
“Moving on while staying in Lucky Harbor?”
“Yes,” she said, admitting her newfound realization. “I’m staying.”
“With Ford?”
“I don’t know,” Tara said honestly.
Logan laughed, and in it was a wistfulness and vulnerability she hadn’t expected. “I know,” he said softly.
Chapter 26
“Never do anything that you don’t want to have to explain to 9-1-1 personnel.”
TARA DANIELS
Tara left Logan’s hospital room and went looking for her next most pressing problem. When she heard Mia’s voice, she slowed her pace. Peeking in the door, she found Mia sitting in a chair by Ford’s bed.
All she could see of Ford was a set of long legs, one casted. Still standing out of sight behind the curtain, Tara smiled in spite of herself. They were playing cards. Blackjack.
“Hit me,” Ford said.
Mia dealt him a card.
“Hit me,” he said.
Mia obliged again.
“Hit me.”
“Um,” Mia said hesitantly. “You have thirty-six.”
Ford blinked blearily at his cards. “You sure?”
“Wow.” Mia giggled. “They must have given you some good stuff, huh, Dad?”
Ford went still and stared her. “Did you just—”
“Yeah,” Mia said softly. “Weird?”
“Yes.” He smiled at her dopily. “The absolutely best kind of weird. You should probably ask me all my secrets now. I’m mush and high. I’ll sing like a canary.”
Mia grinned. “What kind of secrets do you have?”
“Deep, dark ones.”
“Like?”
“Like how I watch Hell’s Kitchen. Shh,” he said, bringing a finger to his lips and nearly taking out an eye. “And I change the locks at the bar just to mess with Jax’s head. Oh, and I push Tara’s buttons cuz I like it when she gets all pissy.”
Mia laughed. “You really are high. Make me understand why you two aren’t a thing again?”
“Me and Jax? He’s engaged to someone else now, so…”
“You know I mean Tara,” she said, still laughing.
Ford looked at his cards as if they might hold the answer.
“Come on, it’s not that tough a question.”
“Yes, it is. And didn’t I tell you all this already?�
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“No, actually,” Mia said. “You never have. Tara did. Well, kind of. But not you.”
Standing in the doorway, still half-hidden behind the privacy curtain, Tara covered her mouth with her fingers to avoid interrupting them.
“It’s complicated,” Ford finally said. “But that’s also a bullshit answer, and I’ve always promised myself if I ever got the chance to know you, I wouldn’t bullshit you.”
He’d thought about this, Tara realized. About getting to know Mia, being with her. He’d thought about it, and he’d wanted it.
It was to her own shame that she’d tried not to do the same, otherwise the guilt would have killed her a long time ago.
“I’m glad, cuz I have a highly sensitive bullshit meter,” Mia said.
A half-smile curved Ford’s mouth as he reached for the teen’s hand. “You get that from Tara, you know. You get a lot from her. Your inner strength, your determination, your brains. All your best parts actually, they come from her, not me.”
Tara pressed her free hand over her aching heart.
“So would you finally just tell me?” Mia asked softly. “Will you tell me about you two, how it was back then? You know, since you’re high and all.”
Ford let out a long breath. “I was bad news for her, Mia.”
Tara’s breath caught. Out of all the things she expected him to say, that hadn’t been on the list.
“Did she tell you that?” Mia asked. “That you were bad for her?”
He hadn’t been, Tara thought with a lump in her throat. He’d been wonderful. Exactly what she’d needed. She’d been inexperienced, but he hadn’t taken advantage of her. And the truth was, she’d wanted him as badly as he’d wanted her. When she’d gotten pregnant, he’d felt guilty as hell.
It hadn’t been his fault. Not all of it, anyway. There’d been two of them in his bed, and once he’d taught her how good their bodies could feel together, it’d been all she’d wanted to do with him.
“No,” Ford said. “She never said that.”
“Probably because she didn’t see it that way,” Mia said.
Ford shrugged, and hands still over her mouth and heart, Tara shook her head. She hadn’t seen him as bad for her. Ever. She’d seen past his roughness, the tough exterior, to the caring, warm boy beneath.
“It wasn’t going to happen,” Ford said. “Us. I couldn’t have taken care of her any more than I could have taken care of you, no matter how much I wanted to. Truth is, she was made for better things than being stuck with me in this small town that she hated.”
“What about love?” Mia asked. “If you loved each other—”
“We were seventeen,” Ford said gently. “We didn’t know real love.”
Mia made a sound that said she disagreed. Vehemently. But still out of view, Tara nodded in understanding. Maybe she would have said they’d been at least a little in love, but she wouldn’t judge him. She was the last person to judge.
“Okay,” Mia said. “So Tara left, and you… what? You just let her go?”
She sounded so disappointed, and Ford laughed softly without mirth. “God, you really did get so much from her.” He paused. “Yeah, I let her go. She wasn’t happy with me over that. It took nearly six months of her being back in Lucky Harbor before she’d even talk to me.”
“She was mad at you for letting her walk away?”
“Oh, yeah. And I deserved that.”
“But you did it out of love!” the romantic Mia said dramatically. “You thought she deserved better.”
“It wasn’t all altruistic,” he admitted. “I’ve tended to go the easy route. And Tara doesn’t know the meaning of the word easy.”
He sounded… proud, Tara thought. Proud of her.
“And what about now?” Mia wanted to know. “Now that you’re both older and together in the same place, it might end differently. Right?”
The ache deepened, spreading through Tara’s entire chest as a nurse brushed past her and in the room. “Okay, Mr. Walker,” she called out. “You’ve been cleared and released. You’re free to go if you have someone to help you home.”
Tara stepped into the room as well, and raised her hand. “That would be me.”
Ford’s eyes locked with hers. “Sawyer could—”
“It was my tree,” she said, oddly loath to let anyone else help him. “It’s the least I can do.”
Ford took up the entire backseat of Tara’s car with his stretched-out leg, leaving the front seat for Logan, which he gleefully took.
Sawyer picked up Mia and Chloe. He offered to take Ford as well, but Tara was still unwilling to part with him and used the excuse that he was already loaded in her car. She got behind the wheel, and nervous with both Ford and Logan watching her, took the first turn a little rough, nearly dumping Ford to the floor.
Logan smirked and eyed Ford in the rearview mirror. “Got to lean into the turns, Mariner Man. Learn to use your body.”
Ford gritted his teeth. “I know how to use my body just fine.”
“So do I. Tell him, Tara.”
Tara glared at Logan. “Don’t you make me stop this car. Because I totally will.”
Unrepentant, Logan shrugged. Tara went out of her way to drop him off first. When she pulled up to his rented beach cottage, he slumped in the seat. “Hey. Why do I have to go home first?”
“Because you’re the one most likely to be strangled,” she said. “By me.”
At that, Ford stopped scowling in the backseat and sat up a little straighter.
“Fine,” Logan said. “But I need you to walk me in.”
“Why?”
“Maybe I’m dizzy from the meds.”
“Cortisone makes you dizzy?”
He lifted his chin. “Yes, for your information, it does. I feel a little sick, too. I almost died, you know.”
Tara sighed, threw the car into park, and looked into the rearview mirror at Ford. “Wait here.”
“Right,” he muttered. “Because I might leap out of the car and make a run for it.”
Logan smiled evilly.
Ford flipped him off.
“Let’s go,” Tara said tightly to her ex. “Behave,” she said to Ford.
His expression told her that she shouldn’t count on it. She walked Logan up the porch. Sandy was there waiting for him, looking cute and perky.
“Oh, you poor baby!” she said, rising to her feet and moving to Logan’s side. “I heard all about it. Are you okay?”
Of course, Logan played it up. “Well, it was touch and go there for a while.” He shuddered. “But I’m going to make it.”
Sandy fussed all over him. “Let me help you inside.”
“Good idea,” Logan said, setting his head on her shoulder. “Nearly dying from anaphylactic shock is exhausting.”
Tara rolled her eyes so hard that they nearly popped right out of her head.
Paying Tara no attention, Sandy slipped her arm around Logan. “Are you really okay now? What can I do for you? Anything, just name it.”
“Oh, darlin’, that’s so sweet, but really, don’t worry about little ol’ me.”
“Don’t be silly,” Sandy exclaimed. “You need some serious TLC.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Logan murmured, leaning into her some more, sighing in pleasure.
Tara shook her head. “I assume you’re in good hands,” she said dryly.
“Yes.” This from Sandy. “I’ll take care of him from here.”
Tara got back in her car and glanced at Ford. “To your house or boat?”
“House,” he said morosely, jaw dark with the day’s growth, eyes hooded. “I can’t maneuver enough to get around on the boat.”
Fifteen minutes later, Tara got patient number two settled on his couch, his leg elevated on the coffee table. His crutches, water, snacks, and the remote were all within reach. She’d also given him two pain pills.
He looked miserable, and she melted. “How bad are you hurting?”
H
e didn’t answer. Shifting behind him, she began to rub the knots out of his shoulders. “Better?”
He gave a little grunt of affirmation so she kept at it until the knots loosened and he finally relaxed. “Thanks,” he said gruffly.
She didn’t want to take her hands off all his gorgeous muscles but she had limits, and jumping his bones when he was on drugs and hurting was one of them.
Probably.
“You’ll get used to the crutches,” she said, hoping that it was true. “But until you do, we’ll all take shifts here to make sure you have what you need.”
“I have what I need.” He grabbed her hand when she tried to move away. “My own private nurse.”
She laughed. “I was a nurse once for Halloween, but you should know, I’m not all that good at it in real life.”
“I bet you made a really hot nurse.” His eyes went a little glossy as he thought about it. “You and a short short, little white uniform, with white lacy thigh-highs and a devastatingly tiny thong. Or no thong. Yeah, no thong at all.”
“You’ve given this some thought,” she said, amused. And also a little turned on to be the center of his fantasies.
“I have a very active imagination.” He looked at her, no humor in his face when he said, “Something became clear to me today when I thought I was going to die.”
“Ford, you fell out of a tree and broke your leg. You were never going to die.”
“Could have,” he insisted.
“Did I give you too many of the happy pills?” she asked, checking the bottle. “Maybe the hospital meant for me to wait until morning to dose you again.” Shaking her head, she took a long pull from his soda.
He smiled. “I love you, you know. Probably, you should just marry me.”
Tara inhaled soda up her nose and choked for air as she wheezed and gaped at him.
“You okay?”
“I will be,” she managed through a raw throat. “When the shooting pains down my left arm go away.” She drew in a ragged breath. “What did you just say to me?”
“I want to do it right this time with you,” he said. “I want to get married. No more stupid Facebook, no more Logan, no more what-are-we-doing-with-each-other shit, and no more bad endings. Just you and me, and a piece of paper to make it official.”