Read It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel) Online
Authors: Tamra Baumann
It Had to Be Love (An It Had to Be Novel)
ALSO BY TAMRA BAUMANN
It Had to Be Him
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2015 Tamra Baumann
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of
Amazon.com
, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503945449
ISBN-10: 1503945448
Cover design by Laura Klynstra
This book is dedicated to my husband, Mark, the basis for all that’s good in every hero in my stories. While I fall a little bit in love with all my written heroes, none could ever equal you.
C
ONTENTS
F
or the first time since he’d become sheriff, Ryan Anderson was tempted to lie. Who thought up the ridiculous questions online dating apps asked anyway?
He had no idea what his “ideal first date” would be. He wasn’t one of those all-in-touch-with-his-feelings kind of guys.
Probably a movie. Less talking.
With his deputy returning soon from answering another trespassing call, Ryan only had the office to himself for a few more minutes. Maybe he’d tackle the easy questions first.
Height: 6
'
5
Weight: 220
Age: 30
Hair Color: Dark brown
Eye Color: Blue
After that the questions got complicated.
Favorite hobby?
Would running and going to the gym be considered hobbies? He liked keeping fit, but it was part of his job to do that, being in law enforcement. Or how about reading mysteries? No. That made him sound like a wimpy bookworm, but he liked getting lost in a great story.
How about hiking and whitewater rafting? But if a woman didn’t want to do those things it wouldn’t be a deal breaker. He’d just go by himself.
A glance at the clock in the bottom right-hand corner of his computer screen showed it was almost time to go.
His tongue slid over his jagged, cracked tooth. No choice. He had to go this time.
As annoying as the questions on the application were, going to the dentist could be just as aggravating. And chances were slim someone in sleepy Anderson Butte, Colorado, would commit a serious crime in the next five minutes so he could cancel his appointment—again.
It’d take him all of two minutes to cross the grassy square, so he’d leave in three.
Turning his attention back to the screen, he skipped the hobby question. He’d come back to it later.
Next it asked what he preferred in a woman’s build and coloring.
A vision appeared of a cute, short woman with a pretty smile and brown hair. Sarah—someone who’d never cheat and lie like his mother had. He’d been in love with Sarah—a quiet, sweet, loyal woman—since middle school, but he’d had a hard time telling her how he’d felt. Now she was married to a jerk she’d never leave.
He held the women he dated to high standards. Maybe too high. He’d been accused of being too rigid, too black and white, on top of being too quiet, but he’d seen what the poor choices in his parents’ marriage had resulted in, and refused to make the same mistake. Many of his friends had come from good homes with awesome parents and he’d always vowed he’d have that, or stay single.
He typed the opposite of Sarah: Tall and blonde.
At the echo of heavy footsteps approaching outside his office, Ryan quickly saved his profile just as Mike, one of his deputies, stepped inside.
Ryan called out, “Gotta go. Make sure you file that call report before you leave for the day.”
His deputy, a fellow football player on their high school team, shot him a stupid grin. “In a hurry to visit our pretty new dentist, Sheriff?”
Nope. He’d never admit it out loud—he had a reputation to uphold—but he’d always feared going to the dentist. It was the last
thing he’d be in a hurry to do. No matter how good-looking Tara was.
Ignoring Mike’s question, he said, “Do you get a weird vibe from her? Like she’s hiding something?”
Mike sat down at his desk. “The kind of vibes I get from Tara would earn me a smack upside the head from my wife.”
“She should smack you anyway, you deserve it.”
“A man can look.” He chuckled. “Hey, the mayor stopped by earlier. He said, and I quote, ‘Tell Ryan I want this bogus hunt for the long-lost whiskey recipe that surely doesn’t exist to stop,’ end quote. You think your crazy uncle really buried that map? Those barrels of whiskey from Prohibition days could be worth a fortune if they’re still intact. I’ve been tempted to look myself.”
It’d been a week since that letter with cryptic clues had been accidentally unearthed and posted online. The recipe for what was once known as the best whiskey west of the Mississippi had caused the biggest stir the town had seen in a long time. The mayor, his father, had been on Ryan’s case to be harder on the trespassing, treasure-hunting townspeople so all the digging would stop.
Like that would happen anytime soon. Bets were being placed on when that buried box with the recipe and map would be found. “No idea. It’s your turn to make the breakfast burrito run in the morning. See you.”
Ryan slapped his laptop closed, then he locked it in his top drawer to prevent curious eyes from checking out his browser history. He didn’t want anyone to know he’d been perusing dating sites—and jobs—in Denver..
He headed out of his office in Town Hall, still thinking about Tara. Mike was right. The new dentist was beautiful, tall, blonde, and easy to look at. The kind of woman men stopped in their tracks and stared at. But his brother, Ben, had asked her out so bro-code dictated Tara was off-limits. Not that he’d ever want to date a dentist in the first place. That’d be like Superman dating the female version of Lex Luthor.
He made his way down the long hall, past all the ancient pictures hanging on the walls of Andersons who’d served the town before him, and headed for the main entrance.
An old, croaky woman’s voice called out, “Good luck, Ryan. I hear Tara hands out sugar-free lollipops if you’re real good.”
Now they were keeping track of his dental appointments? He really needed to move.
Forcing a smile, he waved a hand in the direction of the elder members of the church council, known as the Three Amigos. The women sat behind a long table strategically placed by the front doors so no one could pass by without their notice. Sticking to their usual MO, they combined saving souls with peddling arts and crafts to raise money for some cause or another.
“Bye, ladies. Be good while I’m gone. No shortchanging anyone, you hear?”
Their gray heads all bobbed as they chuckled.
Slapping the glass doors open, he trudged down the wide stone steps. The August sunshine reflected brightly off the freshly whitewashed bandstand in the middle of the square. Forgoing his shades, because he’d be there by the time he could wrangle them out of the front of his shirt, he strode across the grassy park.
Once on the other side, he hopped onto the raised wooden walkway and reached out to tug on the office door. His hand stopped midair as he glanced at the radio on his belt, begging it to squawk.
No such luck.
The door swung open and the curvy little dental assistant, Missy, reached out and grabbed his wrist. “There you are, Ryan. Tara and I had a bet whether you’d cancel again. She now owes me twenty bucks, so thank you very much for showing up.”
Great. Now they were betting on
him
?
Grateful Ryan’s procedure had gone smoothly and quickly, Tara said, “And we’re done!” She tilted Sheriff Sexy up. Best to make a hasty retreat. “See you in two weeks to place the permanent crown.” And to endure another round of none-of-his-beeswax questions.
With a nod at Missy to finish up and make the next appointment, Tara forced herself to calmly walk to her office.
After closing the door behind her, she leaned against it and shut her eyes.
He knew she was hiding something. She could feel it.
She slipped out of her white lab coat and hung it on the peg next to her license—the ink barely dry with her new name—and whispered, “Tara Carter, you need to avoid that man. No falling for that gorgeous smile.” She’d made that mistake before.
She circled her desk to answer e-mails until Ryan left. Then she’d have a little chat with Missy about her unprofessional behavior toward a patient—for the tenth time.
Missy, like Anderson Butte, had a quaint, small-town charm about her, but underneath lay a complex history Tara still hadn’t quite figured out. Much like the ins and outs of the longtime feud between the Grants and Ryan’s family, the Andersons. People not related to either clan seemed to back one family or the other.
Even more surprising was finding the town had a “secret pact” she’d had to sign before she could buy out the practice from the previous dentist. They’d evidently run a background check on her before deeming her trustworthy enough to let her in on their incredible secret. Luckily, between the police and her wealthy father, her new background looked perfectly normal.
Who would ever have guessed tiny Anderson Butte was a secret celebrity hideaway? She’d seen some of the biggest names in Hollywood strolling down the street, going completely “unnoticed.”
All the townspeople received profit sharing, health and dental benefits, and 401(k) plans in return for keeping their mouths shut about the celebrities who visited year after year because of the total privacy the quaint lake town provided them.
Any place where people stuck together like that and could keep that big a secret seemed a safe place for her to be. Well, as long as she could avoid Ryan and keep her own secret safe.
The jingle of the bell over the front door signaled Ryan’s departure, so Tara joined Missy to help with the end-of-day cleanup. “We need to talk.”
Her assistant’s eyes widened in apology. “Tara, I’m so sorry. I was annoyed with him. I know the things I said weren’t”—she lifted her fingers and made air quotes—“professional behavior. I’m still working on that.”
“Well, work harder, okay?” But Missy
had
been doing a little better. Especially with some of the Grants she loved to hate, even though she wasn’t an Anderson. “So what’s the deal with you two? Former boyfriend?”
Missy snorted. “I wish. Ryan doesn’t date local girls. So the other night after we’d tossed a few back at Brewster’s, I asked him
if
he wanted to take me home for some one-night-stand kind of fun.
He said there was no such thing as one-night-stand kind of fun when
we’d have to see each other all the time for the rest of our lives. He’s the only guy I know who would turn that down. It’s not like I’m a gargoyle or anything, right?”
“No, you’re a beautiful woman.” Missy was five years her junior at twenty-eight, and cute as a kitten. Tara could never stay mad at her for long. “People say Ryan’s quiet, but he always seems to have plenty of questions for
me
.”
“Today was the most I’ve ever heard him speak if it wasn’t about a book.” Missy finished wiping down her workspace. “He’s the typical ‘strong, silent type,’ unless you get him talking about reading. I mostly just ask him about his latest book and then ogle him while he jabbers on. He’s so damn
hot
. It’s a crying shame for all of us local girls.”
Tara wouldn’t have pegged a big guy like Ryan as a reader. She was too. Lately, her idea of a fun Friday night had been to spend the evening curled up with the new man in her life—her adorable mixed-breed puppy, Sherlock. Add in a few glasses of yummy wine and a good book on her e-reader and she was a happy camper.
“Well, keep working on your game face, okay? Especially because we have three Grants in a row on tomorrow’s schedule.” Tara flipped the switch to turn on the sterilizer, then killed the lights in the back.
Missy beamed a sweet smile. “Thanks, Tara. You’re the best boss ever.” She held up a pair of sunglasses. “So great a boss, I’ll bet you’d save me the embarrassment of reliving Ryan’s rejection and return these to him?”
“Um . . .” Would it look odd if she didn’t comply?
“Thanks.” Missy handed over the glasses. “You can catch him at the diner in a few minutes. Ryan is a man of routine. He eats at the diner every Tuesday and Thursday evening. And he exercises every day. As soon as the snow melts in the spring, he runs around the lake in the morning, then hits the gym at the hotel. Every. Single. Morning. Not that I’m stalking him or anything. It’s just hard not to notice. See you tomorrow.”
Tara had noticed his routine too. It was how she usually avoided him. “Wait. You instructed Ryan how to care for his temporary crown and about eating while still numb, right?”
While working for the previous laid-back dentist, Missy had formed bad habits. It had been another of the challenges of retraining her.