Second Chance Christmas, page 15
Not only that, but she couldn’t have imagined a better lover to help her chase away the memories of Scott. Ryan was exuberant and playful, keeping their lovemaking light and uncomplicated. He made no secret that he desired her, making her feel valued and sensuous. A lump formed in her throat just thinking of all the other women Ryan had likely made feel the same way. Not to mention the women he’ll make feel that way in the future. He was generous with his affection, and she was grateful he had thrown some of that affection her way. She wasn’t so self-absorbed to think it was anything more than just “scratching an itch,” as he had said. But she couldn’t help thinking that he would make some woman very lucky someday.
Someone younger.
Less uptight.
With less baggage.
Just not her.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, ripping her out of her pity party. Ryan threw an arm over his face with a groan. Jane had to practically crawl over him to get her phone. He groaned again when she landed on his morning erection.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” she said, unsure where to put her hands while frantically reaching for her phone.
He intercepted her wrist and wrapped her fingers around his arousal.
“Ignore the phone,” he said, daring her through the fringe of his long eyelashes. “They’ll text back if it’s important.”
“I can’t,” she whispered, wishing she could. “It might be about Henry.”
He hesitated a moment before nodding in understanding. With a heavy sigh, he lifted her fingers from his now throbbing member and pressed a kiss to her palm before handing her the phone. She leaned down and brushed a quick kiss across his lips.
“We’re not going anywhere,” he said with a pat to the sheet tented over him. “So don’t bother trying to placate me with a measly kiss.”
His light teasing had her relaxing as she opened her texts.
“Crap.”
He was sitting up beside her in an instant, wrapping an arm around her shoulders in comfort. “Henry?”
“No, it’s not anything serious.” She typed out a quick text. “I forgot to let Liz know about the hot water at the clinic, that’s all. I’ll need to check with Xander before I head in there later.”
When she turned to put the phone on her side of the bed, Ryan covered her body from behind, his erection nudging into her bottom.
“How long do we have until ‘later?’” he murmured against her shoulder.
She arched back into him with a sigh. “I need to leave here in a little over an hour.”
“Perfect.”
Jane laughed at his enthusiasm. As much as she wanted to stay in bed and explore the joys of Ryan all day, she needed to get to the clinic. “I have to get dressed and grab some breakfast before I go.”
His fingers found their way around her waist, where they began playing at her entrance, coaxing a guttural sigh out of her.
“Don’t worry, doc. You’ve got plenty of time for what I’ve got in mind. Especially since you’re already wet,” he promised.
True to his word, Jane was boneless and sated fifteen minutes later. Ryan hovered above her, a satisfied smile on his lips.
He leaned down and dropped a lusty kiss on her mouth. “I better hit the shower, Or I might try to persuade you to let me have my wicked way with you again.”
It wouldn’t take much.
He chuckled as if she’d said it out loud, before swinging his legs over the side of the bed and strolling toward the bathroom, completely self-assured in his nakedness. She savored the view of his fine ass walking away from her.
“I’ll be out in five,” he called over his shoulder. “Then I’ll make you breakfast while you get ready.”
Jane wasn’t sure she wouldn’t still be in this bed when he got out of the shower. She envied his energy. And the relaxed way he dealt with sex. She needed to be just as nonchalant. To act as if his rock-her-world-orgasms were nothing out of the ordinary. Burying her face in her pillow, she screamed because even if she knew how to be blasé about what they’d been doing for the past twelve hours, she couldn’t be. Because despite ending her drought, Ryan had also succeeded in reigniting her desire.
Forcing herself out of bed, she pulled on her warm, fluffy bathrobe, the Japanese house slippers her mother sent her for Christmas last year, and headed toward the nirvana that was her coffee maker. As she padded toward the kitchen, she nearly tripped over the articles of clothing they’d tossed on the floor last night in their haste to get to a bed. Her face stung at the memory as she snatched her bra up from the kitchen floor and shoved it into her pocket.
She had just popped a pod into the coffee maker when her doorbell rang. A dog barking quickly followed the sound.
“Jane,” Patricia called from the other side of Jane’s front door. “I’ve brought your car back for you.”
Holy hell.
She checked her reflection in the door of the microwave. It was as bad as she thought. Her hair looked like an eggbeater had been used on it. Her eyes were puffy from being kept awake all night by a much younger professional athlete with an insatiable appetite for sex. And, dear God, was that a hickey on her collarbone?!
Patricia knocked. There was scratching at the door. “Janey?”
Jane pulled her robe tight up against her neck as she debated whether she could keep Ryan’s mother waiting while she alerted him to her presence. The sound of the shower turning on joined the yaps of Kringle on the front porch. No choice now but to brazen it out. Doing her best to smooth down her hair, she pulled the door open slightly and pasted on a smile.
“Oh, dear. I got you out of bed,” Patricia said. “I’m sorry. I thought you had to work this morning. That’s why I brought your car back to you.” She held Jane’s keys up between her fingers.
“That was very thoughtful of you.”
And it was. Jane felt guilty because any other time, she would have invited the woman in for coffee. Or, at the very least, given her a hug.
“I’m running a little behind this morning, so please excuse me if I just take those and head for the shower.”
Patricia’s expression didn’t indicate she thought the request was unusual at all. In fact, her smile was a bit coy as she handed Jane her keys. Jane was seconds from a clean getaway when Kringle charged between her and the door, barking as he raced into the house.
“Kringle, no!” she shouted.
“Kringle, come!” Patricia called.
The dog sniffed around the living room before heading for the kitchen. As much as she wanted to, Jane didn’t dare slam the door on Patricia. She leaped for the dog instead. Kringle’s leash got tangled up on a table leg, and Jane was able to grab him before he went any farther inside.
She laughed in relief as she handed the leash back to Patricia. “He must be looking for Henry.”
“Poor dog. Ryan never takes him when he goes out for his morning run, so I thought I’d let him join me on my errands.” Patricia shot her a telling look. “I hear your shower running. I’ll let you get back to it.”
Ryan’s mother tugged on Kringle’s leash, but the little dog was straining on it trying to reach the kitchen—and Ryan’s sneakers just out of Patricia’s sightline. Jane took a step over to block the dog, her eyes darting around to make sure Ryan’s jockey shorts weren’t dangling from a branch on the Christmas tree.
“Thank you again for bringing my car,” she said as she ushered Patricia, who was now dragging Kringle, to the door.
“Anything for you, Janey,” Patricia smiled.
And then it happened.
The shower turned off.
The silence was suddenly loud in the quiet house. The two women stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. Jane’s heart raced as she braced herself for the inevitable.
“We’ll just be leaving,” Patricia said before swiftly picking up the dog and scooting outside.
Jane hurried to close the door, turning the lock just as Ryan appeared in the hall, a towel slung low over his hips.
“Do you have any idea where my jeans got to?” he asked.
With her back to the door, Jane slid to the floor amidst a spasm of hysterical giggles.
“HOW’S THE HAND?”
Lamar’s softly uttered question had Ryan nearly dropping the bottle of water he’d just pulled from the inn’s Sub-Zero fridge. The man had some serious stealth skills. Kringle jumped up from his doggie bed and trotted across the kitchen, laying down at Lamar’s feet, looking for a belly rub.
“It’s a little sore from an hour in the batting cage, but the doctors tell me that’s to be expected from now on.”
The sheriff jerked his chin toward Ryan’s knuckles. “Must have been pretty rough in that cage to tear up those knuckles.”
Damn.
Ryan shook his head. “This is one of the reasons I can’t wait to get out of this place. There are no secrets in this town.”
Lamar chuckled softly. “It’s my job to know everything that goes on here.” He turned one of the kitchen chairs around and straddled it. “Xander brought Paul by the station last night.”
“Whoa, pump the brakes, sheriff.” Ryan flexed the fingers on his hand, biting back a grimace at the soreness that remained from punching that big oaf. “We don’t need to make a federal case about this.”
The sheriff shook his head and pointed to the chair across from him. “Sit,” he commanded. “No one’s making a federal case about anything. Xander and the rest of us do what we can to look out for the other veterans in Chances Inlet. Paul has had a bit of a rocky road since he got out of the Corps.”
Ryan mimicked Lamar by straddling his own chair. He helped himself to a butterscotch cookie his mother had set out on a tray for this afternoon’s tea before sliding the tray toward Lamar.
“I don’t keep up with many of the people from high school. I wasn’t aware he’d gone into the military. That’s admirable.”
“It should be,” Lamar replied. “But it doesn’t always work out that way. You do and see things that never leave you. Some of us are better at handling that. Paul isn’t one of those people. His wife left him for a realtor in Florida. She took their daughter with her.”
“Shit,” Ryan said.
“Paul’s been working for his brother-in-law in landscaping. When he’s busy working, he’s okay. He has something to focus on. But during December, the only thing they’ve got going is the tree lot, though. That means Paul has to find other ways to fight his demons.” Lamar held up a hand. “I’m not making excuses for what he did or said last night. He was wrong. One hundred percent. He doesn’t remember much, but we are working on getting him the help he needs.”
“I’m not sure I can apologize for hitting him.”
“I’m not asking you to apologize. Just trying to give you a little perspective. It’s hard on a man transitioning from the one thing or career in life that sustains or defines him to the unknown.”
Lamar’s words had Ryan’s spine tingling. Was the guy clairvoyant? No one but Roscoe knew of his situation.
He took a long drink of water, allowing him time to school his expression from pissed off to aloof.
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a subtext to this conversation?” he asked.
“There’s no subtext.” Lamar reached over and took a cookie for himself. “I just wanted to let you know that Paul has a support system, and we’re doing what we can.” He pinned Ryan with a look that probably had the bad guys admitting to all kinds of crimes whether they committed them or not. “You’ve got a support system, too. Remember that.”
“Ah,” Ryan said, understanding dawning. “My mother put you up to this.”
Lamar slowly got to his feet. “Your mother is important to me. That means everyone who is important to her is also important to me.” With a pat for Kringle, he made his way to the backdoor. “I never had the pleasure of meeting your father.”
Just when Ryan was beginning to like the guy. He gripped the back of the chair tightly, letting his body language speak for him. Because he was not having a discussion about his father with this man.
“But I can get a good sense of the measure of a man through his children.” The sheriff ignored Ryan’s closed posture. “Your father and mother raised decent, hardworking people. People who believe in the community that nurtured them. From what I hear around town, each of you possess a trait that made your dad so beloved and successful. Gavin gets his eye for design from your father. Miles has his leadership and drive. Kate, her dark sense of humor. Elle has big dreams. But you—”
Ryan stood up abruptly from the chair. “You just said you didn’t know jack-shit about him. And you sure as hell don’t know me.”
Undeterred, Lamar continued. “I get the feeling you are the one who is most like Donald McAlister. And not just because you resemble him the most.”
“What a bunch of bullshit,” Ryan snapped.
“Is it?” Lamar placed his campaign hat on his head. “Maybe you should ask your mom what she thinks.”
Ryan didn’t care what his mother thought. Hell, he already knew. She’d do and say just about anything to get him to return to this cloying town for good. Well, she’d already yanked back three of her children using who knows what kind of guilt grenade. Three was just going to have to be enough for her.
“Hold up, Sheriff,” Ryan ground out between clenched teeth. “I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the information about my hand to yourself.” The last thing he needed was for Roscoe or someone within the team’s organization to find out he’d risked re-injury.
Lamar bowed his head and pinched his nose before looking back over at Ryan with another one of those stern expressions. “I guess you didn’t hear me before, so let me repeat myself. I’m protective of my family and the people they love. I love your mother, and she loves you dearly. Therefore, that protection extends to you. Your secrets are safe with me. All of them.”
With a curt nod, he was out the door. Ryan kicked the leg of the chair. Kringle stared up at him, a reproachful look shadowing his furry face.
“Not you, too.”
The dog laid down on the floor and put his head on his paws with a sigh. Ryan paced the big kitchen. Damn Lamar and his armchair psychiatry. Why did the guy have to rain on his parade? He was still riding a sensual high after his night with Jane. He didn’t want to ruin it by thinking about his old man. That only led to more guilt about the ugly words he’d thrown in his father’s face the last time they’d spoken. Ryan had managed to eke out two weeks in this town without the memories overwhelming him. Mostly because he’d been mesmerized by one Jane Upton Sheffield. She was the key to him surviving the next couple weeks. And he had big plans for her tonight.
“Come on, Kringle.” Ryan grabbed his water and headed toward his suite. “We’ve got some phone calls to make.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JANE HELPED HER patient back to the exam table.
“You’re doing very well, Molly,” she said. “I don’t recommend you go out dancing on New Year’s Eve, but you can lose the knee brace for your Christmas photos.”
Molly leaned back against the pillows stacked behind her with a smile. “Thanks, Dr. Jane. I don’t know if I could have survived this knee replacement without you.”
Jane handed her an ice cup with a satisfied smile. This was the reason she’d gone into physical therapy in the first place. Every patient she helped to recover and be independent again made her feel like she was a success.
“Ice for eight minutes.” She set the little kitchen timer at the end of the exam table. “Remember to keep up your home exercises and call me if anything changes with that knee during the rest of the weekend. I’ll see you next week.”
Liz and Tony each had one patient they were tending to, but it looked like they’d all be finished on time to lock up the clinic only fifteen minutes after their one o’clock closing time. Jane rarely worked on Saturdays because she had Henry to think about, but she was surprised at how quickly the time went on a half-day.
She’d barely had a moment to think about Ryan all morning. As promised, he’d made her breakfast. Frozen pancakes drizzled with melted chocolate chips. Not the most nutritious, but positively satisfying. Especially since she’d been sitting on his lap while she ate. She bit back a smile at the memory. She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly missed that the door to David’s office was open. She took a step backward to peek inside.
“David!” She was surprised to see her boss in the office so soon after his surgery. They spoke every day, but he’d made no mention of returning to work so soon. He was seated at his desk. His injured ankle, encased in a red cast with a green bow tied at the top, was propped up on a stool in front of him. “What are you doing here?”
“Hiding,” he replied. “And enjoying Ida Kosten’s amazing Christmas cookies. Want one?”
He made as if to offer her a cookie from the Christmas tree-shaped plate, but his expression looked like he hoped she’d decline, likely so he could have them all for himself. Ida’s cookies were legendary around Chances Inlet, and there was no way Jane was passing one up. She reached over and plucked a pink stocking from the plate before sliding into the empty chair across from David’s desk.
“Hiding from who?” She moaned when she bit into the cookie.
“You’ve met my wife, haven’t you?”
Jane laughed. David’s wife, Amy, was a labor and delivery nurse who likely had no patience for her husband’s reluctance to sit still and heal.
“She won’t let me do anything,” he practically whined.
“Smart woman,” Jane said. “You and I both know that recovering from a ruptured Achilles is no walk in the park. You’re not even two weeks post-op. You need to take it easy.”
He waved a hand in agreement while he shoved another cookie into his mouth.
“I mean it,” she warned. “Speaking as the one who is going to have to oversee your rehab, I don’t want any complications.”
