It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel)

by Tamra Baumann

  She cleared her throat and released him, begging her wits to take over for her hormones so she could sound unaffected rather than all churned up inside. “Kissing is definitely not your problem with women. We’ll work on the other stuff on Sunday. Bye.”

  Before he could reply, she darted for the door. After locking it behind her and then punching in her alarm code to stop the incessant beeping, she leaned back against the wood and sighed. Why had she done that? Just to prove something to herself? Or because she had wondered if he was a good kisser more than once late at night? But she’d done it. Had her first kiss and survived. Check that one off the list.

  She shook her head as she made her way to the back to let Sherlock in. That had to have been the dumbest thing she’d ever done in her life.

  Because, dammit, that was one of the best kisses she’d ever had.

  On Sunday afternoon Tara walked down the hill toward Ryan’s house, her stomach churning with nervous energy about the day ahead. She wasn’t entirely sure if her unrest was about seeing Ryan for the first time since their kiss, or if it was the anticipation of going whitewater rafting for the first time.

  Memories of their kiss on Friday night kept popping back into her head, but she quickly shut them down each time. She really shouldn’t go there, no matter how well the man kissed. It wouldn’t be fair to lead him on. Good thing Meg and Eric were coming along to keep things on a “friends” level for their adventure.

  Ryan was loading up the raft on the trailer hitched to his truck. He had on a pair of board shorts and a navy T-shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders and toned muscles.

  Dammit! Why did he have to be so good-looking? Spending the day with him was going to be torture—well, sweet torture. But still.

  The crunch of gravel under her feet made his head swivel her direction and he grinned. “Hey.” His smile quickly faded as he tied down the raft.

  “Hey back. Need any help?”

  He shook his head. “Got it.”

  “I’m really looking forward to this today.”

  His response was a nod and another tight smile.

  Ryan had reverted back to silent mode it seemed. Or maybe things were weird because of their kiss?

  He handed her a life jacket. “Try this on.”

  “’Kay.” She slipped the vest over her shoulders. It fit just fine until the zipper hit her chest. “Um . . . I think a guy wore this last?”

  Without a word, he loosened some buckles on the sides to give her more room.

  Something wasn’t right. He’d never been this quiet.

  After he fixed the jacket, he said, “Number one rule. If you fall out, keep your feet in front of you, downstream. Try to stop yourself on a rock and wait. I’ll do the rest.”

  “Is this going to be scarier than I think? Am I going to be screaming like a girl?”

  “Maybe.” He quickly got back to work.

  Was he mad at her? She should probably say something about their awesome kiss. But what? Apologize? Their kiss probably sent messages as scrambled and complicated as her feelings were for him. She honestly liked him. He seemed to be a great guy. Just not the guy for her, because they wanted different things.

  While she worked out how to approach the subject, Ryan’s grandmother slowly walked down the drive. She used a cane with her right hand and her left held a pie tin. When Ryan saw her, he stopped what he was doing and quickly moved to her side.

  “Careful.” He accepted the pan she stuck in his direction. “You made me a pie?”

  “I figured you deserved this after what happened earlier. Probably not right to call your own child an ass, but your dad acted like one.”

  Ryan nodded as he held out an arm for her to lean on.

  So maybe that’s why Ryan was quiet. A fight with his gruff father?

  As they got closer, Ryan’s grandmother said, “Hello, Tara.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Anderson. What kind of pie did you bake?”

  “Kick-ass apple.”

  Tara laughed as she slipped out of the life jacket and laid it with the others. She’d never get used to how direct Ryan’s grandmother was. “What makes it so kick-ass? Secret ingredient?”

  Meg and Eric walked up, and Meg said, “Because she’d kick our asses if we said otherwise.”

  Mrs. Anderson laughed, revealing a new gap in her front bottom teeth. “Apple is Ryan’s second favorite. He likes Gloria’s chocolate mousse the best, but always tells me my apple is better. He’s no fool.”

  Tara leaned closer. “Did you lose a crown, Mrs. Anderson?”

  “Yes.” She waved a hand. “Bit into one of those apples earlier and off it popped.”

  Eric looked at the pie more closely. “So is there a tooth in there?”

  “You’ll have to eat it at your own risk.” She winked at Eric and made him smile.

  Tara asked, “Do hot and cold bother you?”

  She nodded. “Nothing I can’t live with until I can get in to see you next week. I drink too much damn coffee for my own good anyway.”

  “No, let’s go over to my office now. I’ll get you fixed up so you can enjoy your coffee in the morning.”

  “I don’t want to ruin your fun. I’ll just call you tomorrow.”

  “We can go another time, right, Ryan?”

  He nodded. “Sure.”

  Eric’s eyes followed the conversation back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. He’d really wanted to go.

  “On second thought, you guys should go on without me.”

  Eric nodded with enthusiasm.

  Ryan glanced at Tara, then titled his head in a “follow me” kind of way as he walked toward his deck.

  She called out, “Seriously, Meg. You guys should go,” and then followed behind Ryan.

  When they were out of earshot, Ryan laid the pie on the deck’s railing. “You sure? My grandmother wouldn’t have said that if she didn’t mean it.”

  “Yeah. I have an unusually packed day tomorrow. It’s actually easier for me to see her today. I’ll just run home and grab my office keys. I don’t want her to be miserable until I can squeeze her in.”

  “Okay. I’ll drop her off on our way.” Ryan surprised her when he wrapped her up in a tight hug and whispered, “Thank you, Tara. I appreciate you doing that for my grandmother.”

  She didn’t know quite what to do with her hands. Hug him back and risk giving him the wrong idea, or stand there like an idiot. She didn’t want to be an idiot, so she hugged him back.

  It was nice. He was so solid and . . . comfortable. And he smelled really good. Like soap and aftershave and . . . sexy man.

  Then a thought struck her. Maybe he was upset about his father and needed a hug? It sent a sharp pang to her heart. “Everything okay? Are we okay?”

  He leaned his head back, but continued to hold her. “Why wouldn’t we be okay?”

  “I . . . probably shouldn’t have kissed you. My feelings haven’t changed about having a serious relationship. I don’t want to give you—”

  “If anything further happens between us, and I’ll leave that decision up to you, it’ll just be strictly for pleasure between two single adults. No commitments. Got it.”

  “Wait. Last night you said you felt like a jerk when you’d slept with women just for the sake of it.”

  “That’s different. Those were strangers. You and I have gotten to know and respect each other. And we wouldn’t be going into this with any other expectations.”

  Before she could wrap her head around a guy like Ryan saying that, he said, “Think about it. Because I liked that kiss, Tara. A lot.” He patted her butt and then walked away.

  What had happened to the man who wanted to find the right woman, have 2.5 kids, and own a minivan? It was completely confusing.

  They were going to have a serious discussion later
.

  As they drove north to milder rapids for Eric’s first time down the river, Ryan told Meg about his conversation with Tara.

  Meg said, “Why would you tell Tara that? That’s not what you want.”

  He checked his rearview mirror to be sure Eric still had his earbuds in. The boy stared out the window with his head bobbing.

  “I’m guessing it’s not what she really wants either.”

  Meg frowned at him. “Since when are you a mind reader?”

  “I’m basing it on what we know about her, and some of the things she said to me. Her ex hurt her. Badly. I think she just needs time to heal.”

  “So in the meantime, you’re going to develop deeper feelings for her and then get your heart broken again if you’re wrong?” Meg laid a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to see you hurt, Ry.”

  “No pain, no gain.”

  “So how does this fit in with you moving away?”

  He hadn’t thought it all the way through yet. He’d only come up with the plan after lying awake all night thinking about that kiss. All he knew for sure was he wanted her more than ever. “Who knows how long finding the right job might take? Could be weeks, months, or even a year. In the meantime, we’ll hang out and see if anything more develops. Not really any different than some of the other women I’ve dated recently.”

  “It’s very different because you really care about Tara. I don’t like this plan.”

  “It’s all I got. If you think of something better, let me know.”

  Meg said, “Believe me, I will. This could be a recipe for disaster.”

  The adhesive on Mrs. Anderson’s temporary crown needed to set, so Tara tilted Ryan’s grandmother up in the chair. “Would you like a magazine to read?”

  “Nope. Now that your fingers are out of my mouth, I want to talk about you and Ryan. What’s this cockamamie scheme I’m hearing about dating lessons?”

  Tara smiled. She hadn’t heard the word cockamamie since her cartoon-watching days as a kid. “It was Ryan’s idea, not mine. But he really does need help. It’s like he’s stuck a few decades ago with the way he thinks about women.”

  “You mean because he has manners, he’s tired of dating, and he wants a family? I’d think a young woman would be happy to be with a man like that. It’s what all the girls wanted when I was your age.”

  Which just proved Tara’s point. “I’m not saying there isn’t a woman out there for him who wants those things too. It’s just women are much more independent now and want to live a little and experiment before they settle down. Like only men used to be able to do. A man has no right to hold that against a woman.”

  “Well, one thing will never change. Men don’t buy cows when they get the milk for free. Are you sleeping with my grandson?”

  Blunt much?

  “No. We’re just friends.” But that kiss wasn’t one a friend would give another. It’d been . . . hot.

  “Hmmm.” Mrs. Anderson’s wrinkly eyes narrowed before she said, “You were married before. So what went wrong there?”

  Wow. Just when Tara didn’t think it could get much worse. “He wasn’t the man I thought he was when I married him. I’ll even admit I used to want all the things Ryan wants. And thought I’d have them, until everything went very wrong.” And that was all she was going to say about that. “And since you’re prying, I’m going to do the same. Why do you think Ryan is so quiet? He’s a handsome man. It’s not a lack of confidence that I can see. He’s smart and really kind. He should be able to have any woman he wants. I can’t figure him out.”

  “Ryan chooses to be quiet. He can talk your ear off if he’s passionate about something.” She let out a long sigh. “His father was hard on him as a kid. Thought he was too introspective and that he needed to be more aggressive. Use his size to intimidate like my son does. Fight for what he wanted instead of analyzing things so much before he leaps. But Ryan’s not wired that way, so he sort of turned inside himself and tends to stay there unless you coax him out. Didn’t help he grew up without a mother, then later found out the perfect mother in his mind wasn’t a person of the highest morals. I’m going to take a stab in the dark here and guess that he’s not all that quiet with you, is he?”

  “No.” Tara blinked in surprise that Ryan’s grandmother had figured that out. “He’s actually funny when he wants to be. I like him very much. But we don’t want the same things. He and I have already talked about that and have an understanding.” Although Ryan might have just changed the rules earlier. It still confused her.

  “An understanding.” Ryan’s grandmother slowly nodded. “Well, that just told me everything I wanted to know right there. I’ll ask you to be careful with his heart, Tara. He’s got a good one that doesn’t deserve to be broken again.”

  “You’re talking about Sarah. What went wrong there? No one has ever said.”

  “A little too much of that analyzing before doing. She got tired of waiting, I suspect. But if you ask me? She wasn’t really right for him anyway. He needs someone who coaxes him out of that shell. Like you do.”

  Thankfully it was time to finish Mrs. Anderson’s temp. “He’s moving away soon anyway, so I’m pretty sure it’s a moot point.” She slowly tilted the chair back again and adjusted the light above. “Open again, please. Just a little tuning up and then you can get back to fueling that ‘damn coffee habit’ of yours.”

  Mrs. Anderson laughed. “I like you, Tara Carter. And I don’t often say that to people because most of them annoy me.”

  “I like you too. Except I think I like you better when my fingers are in your mouth so you can’t pry. Now I see where Ryan gets that annoying habit from.”

  Smiling, the old woman said, “Yup, you’re just the one to kick Ryan’s ass. This should be fun to watch.” Her eyes twinkled with amusement.

  Tara had nothing, so she just said, “Hmmm.”

  After Tara had finished the sandwich she’d made herself for dinner, she grabbed Sherlock’s leash. “Want to go—”

  She couldn’t even get the sentence out before her puppy was at her feet chasing his tail in excitement. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  She’d been thinking about what Ryan had said earlier. About it being her choice if anything more happened between them. They needed to have a little chat about that. So maybe she and her puppy would walk by Ryan’s house and see if he was back yet. If not, they’d take a spin around the lake and then check again.

  While she was convinced she’d be better off casually dating, she didn’t believe Ryan would be happy doing that. So why his sudden change of heart? It didn’t sit right with her. She intended to get to the bottom of it.

  They walked down the hill to Ryan’s house. His big truck was in the drive, so she and Sherlock hopped up on the porch. The front door stood open, so that boded well.

  Just as she lifted her hand to knock on the screen, the mayor’s loud voice thundered, “Dammit, Ryan. The digging nonsense has to stop. You don’t do it, and I’ll make sure from here on out that anyone who’s caught loses their profit-sharing privileges.”

  Ryan said, “Do that, and I guarantee someone will go to the rags with celebrity pictures and ruin it for everyone. I’ll handle it my way.”

  “Like you handled that call earlier? You let those kids go without even a slap on the wrist. They deserved punishment for their crime.”

  “They’re just a couple of kids trying to find a map—besides being your grandchildren.”

  The screen door flew open and barely missed Tara’s face. “They’ll be stealing cars next, knowing their soft-hearted uncle will let them off the hook. Fix this!” The mayor stomped down the steps. “Maybe you can talk some sense into him, Tara.”

  Ryan’s jaw clenched as he poked the screen open for her. “Sorry. Come in.”

  Sherlock didn’t hesitate and pulled her inside with him. “
Bad time?”

  “Nope.” He closed his eyes and ran a hand down his face.

  Yes it was. Their talk could wait a bit.

  She whispered, “I’m sorry about . . . that.”

  He shrugged. “No big deal. I’m used to it.”

  That broke her heart. And made her appreciate her scheming parents a bit more. “So, on a happier note I hope, did you guys have fun today? Everyone stay in the raft?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled. “Eric loved it.” He threw his thumb over a shoulder toward the kitchen. “Have you eaten? I was just about to make some dinner.”

  Sherlock couldn’t stand being well mannered any longer and jumped up on Ryan, hoping for a rub.

  “Sherlock, sit!” Pleased when he promptly listened to her, proving her puppy wasn’t all the way spoiled, she smiled and said, “Does a PB&J count as dinner?”

  “If you’re in the third grade.” Ryan leaned down and pet Sherlock, who rolled onto his back for a belly rub.

  “It’s not nice to make fun of the cooking impaired.”

  “But it’s fun.” He quirked a brow. “Watch and learn, grasshopper.”

  “Fine.” In the kitchen, she hopped up on a barstool as Ryan unclipped Sherlock’s leash and then set him up with a bowl of water. It warmed her heart he’d think to do that for her puppy. “So, are we having that cooking date now, Sherriff?”

  His eyes locked with hers. “It’s whatever you want it to be, Tara.”

  He’d said the same thing about their relationship. That it was her choice.

  It’d be nice if she had a clear answer.

  Jamie McDaniel would have loved to be with Ryan. But Tara Carter shouldn’t.

  Ryan leaned over Tara’s shoulder as she attempted to roll out biscuits. She really was clueless in the kitchen. “Nope. Like this.” He wrapped his arms around her and took the ball of dough from her hands. “Punch it out flat and then be sure you have enough flour on the rolling pin or it’ll stick.”