Lifeline Echoes (19 page)

Then his mouth took hers. His lips were hot
enough to brand. It wasn’t nearly enough, and she moaned as her
hands slipped around his neck.

****

On the coffee table, where he'd emptied his
pockets, Ryan's cell phone signaled an incoming call. He didn't
care. With Sandy in his arms, the last hold the past had on Ryan
slipped into nonexistence.

He wanted to take his time, savoring the
moment at the brink of love. She was everything to him. She filled
his empty places, and made his broken places stronger. She balanced
his strengths and weaknesses. He didn't understand it, but her name
was somehow burned into his soul.

The cell phone buzzed again, this time with
the tone indicating a message. Sandy stiffened and Ryan groaned.
The ringing cell had put the brakes on their romantic interlude,
but he didn't move. If he touched the phone just now, he'd probably
smash it in frustration.

****

Chapter Ten

The lamp next to the bed cast a warm
radiance over her face. Cradled in his arms, she was soft,
contented . . . vulnerable. What would it be like to see her face
every night before he drifted to sleep and again when he woke up in
the morning? He wanted to find out. Would she want the same thing?
If they weren't going to make love, at least they could indulge in
some pillow talk before he called it a night and headed for
home.

"I'm going to want a lot more than one
night. If I spend the rest of my life getting to know you, I'll
still find something new every day."

She opened her eyes and smiled at him. "I'm
not going anywhere."

As her assurance washed over him, Ryan's
heart began to race. They were just words. She would have no idea
that to him they were false promises. Only words. But his breath
caught in his throat, and liquid fire flushed through his system.
He hadn't experienced such a reaction since PTSD had dictated his
life. The tremors would come next. He didn't want to have to
explain everything to her. Not tonight. He squeezed his eyes
closed, nearing panic, fighting to force the beast back into the
darkness where it belonged.

Sandy poked him in the side. "Your cell's
going off again."

The trigger was broken, but the episode left
him shaking. Ryan moved aside, allowing her to sit, and drew a
calming breath. He made no move to retrieve his cell. He probably
wouldn't be able to walk. Maybe she hadn't noticed his lapse into
mental instability.

Gentle fingers trailed a whisper of a touch
along his jaw. "Ryan?"

He sighed. She'd noticed.

****

Ryan's eyelids fluttered open, and the
shadows she saw in them tore at her heart.

"Ryan, what's on your mind?"

She'd barely finished speaking and already
he was closed down, his expression shuttered against her concern.
His groan was followed by a slow smile. Heat replaced the shadows
in his eyes. "You."

So, apparently, some things were still off
limits. Arguing the point would be useless, so she simply waited
and watched.

His breathing slowly returned to normal but
he showed no inclination of talking. Satisfied that the shadows
were fading, Sandy bent over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. As
she drew back, his hand snaked out and grabbed her by the wrist,
keeping her with him. He turned her hand over and pressed a kiss to
her palm.

Green eyes met hers. "I
lived away from here for a long time. Not everything is about my
history
here
, and
there are some things that are hard to talk about."

Sandy's mind shot to the crystal angel
dangling from Ryan's rearview mirror. She smiled and looked away,
putting a mental Band-Aid on the little stab of pain and backing
off. Didn’t she have her own painful past, after all?

"I see." She disentangled her hand from his
grasp and stood, unwilling to share this particular vulnerability.
Maybe it was a good thing his cell had interrupted them. He wasn't
ready for a relationship and she wasn't ready if he wasn't being a
hundred percent open. "How about we check out that dessert
then?"

She pulled the edges of her blouse together
and buttoned herself up. Might as well preserve a bit of dignity.
Her legs felt wooden, like marionette legs, as she walked to her
kitchen area.

She opened the freezer. Her hand was on the
carton of chocolate ice cream when the first tear spilled over.
What was she doing? Had she just become the other woman in a messed
up triangle with Ryan and his missing woman?

Strong arms stole around her from behind,
and she stiffened against his touch.

"Hey, what is it?"

Gentle hands turned her away from the
refrigerator. He'd pulled on his shirt but hadn't tucked it into
his jeans.

She couldn't meet his eyes. "Nothing. I
thought I had some whipped cream but I can't find it."

Placing the backs of his knuckles beneath
her chin, Ryan tilted her head up. He pressed a gentle kiss against
her lips but Sandy held herself stiff. When he looked into her eyes
again, she saw sadness in his.

"We're moving too fast," he murmured.

Sandy nodded. "I think—maybe yes. I'm sorry.
I must be driving you crazy. Hot, cold, yes, no."

His thumb worked back and forth across her
cheek. It was a long moment before he spoke. "Let's take a step or
two back."

A wry chuckled slipped from Sandy's lips.
"Is that even possible?"

Green eyes lit when he smiled. "Chicory, I'm
counting on it."

"I don't know what's happening here," she
whispered.

His smile deepened. "I'm pretty sure I'm
falling in love."

Her heart lodged in her throat, threatening
to explode outward. "Don't say that."

Ryan looked like he wanted to say more but
his mask floated down instead. "Okay." He released her and bent to
look in the refrigerator. "Let's check out your dessert menu here.
Ah, here you go." He held up a blue and red can. "One can of spray
whipped cream. What else do you have?"

The moment was gone, the shut-out complete.
Sandy gestured toward the sofa. "Sit down. I'll find
something."

"Should I be worried about the reasons for
your smile?" he asked as she knelt on the edge of the sofa.

"Surely a big strong man such as yourself
isn't afraid of a woman bringing him dessert."

He nodded at the bounty
she was laying out on the table in front of them. "No bowls,
Chicory, and only one spoon? Makes me wonder if I'm going to
be
the dessert you
promised."

Holding up the can of whipped cream, Sandy
laughed maniacally. "You found out my devious plan."

She shook the can then made as if to lather
his body with it. "First I'll spray your belly, and then—"

His arm snaked out and grabbed her wrist,
tugging her down onto the sofa next to him.

"Oh!" She landed awkwardly, half against
Ryan's chest.

"Stop teasing me and feed me my dessert,
woman! I'm starving to death."

Sandy sat, laughter on her lips. "We can't
have that when I have access to multiple types of chocolate. It
doesn't cure everything but it helps. Let me show you."

Popping open the top of the carton, she
sprayed on a good measure of whipped cream, then added a handful of
strawberries and topped it all with a drizzle of chocolate syrup.
After swirling the spoon through the mix, she aimed for Ryan's
mouth.

****

There was something incredibly sensual about
being fed by a woman. But when that woman put the same spoon to her
own mouth, licking it like a lollipop, Ryan's blood went from
pleasantly warm to boiling in the space of a breath. He began to
rethink his dismissal of her proposed alternate use for the whipped
cream.

The sound of an incoming call on his cell
phone was a jarring interruption and he moaned. "Ignore it."

But Sandy was already leaning forward. "It
could be important. Your dad or Sean."

He checked the phone. It wasn't his father
or his brother, so he tossed the phone aside without answering.
"It's just a friend who was looking into something for me."

Sandy's hand, halfway to her mouth with
another spoonful of chocolate, hesitated briefly. Hurriedly, she
shoved the spoon in her mouth, licking it thoroughly while she
stared at him.

Too many interruptions, too many secrets
between them. Ryan didn't want to talk about his reasons for
leaving Orson's Folly, or about Mac, or his time away. And he
really didn't want to talk about the search that had consumed the
last several years of his life. Not tonight. He was finished
looking, and if he hadn't been with Sandy when Joe called, Ryan
would have told him so. But he could tell she already knew who the
call was about.

"You're quiet," he said, sad that his issues
had intruded into their evening together.

"What happens when you find her?" Sandy
studied the ice cream, then looked up at him. "What happens to you
and me?"

Ryan blew out a breath. Easing the carton of
ice cream and the spoon from her fingers, he sat them on the coffee
table next to his phone.

"Sandy." Ryan took her hand and kissed the
tip of each finger. "I . . . don't want to be with her. Once, I
thought—maybe. But she wasn’t there—and now. . ."

****

The metallic taste of blood filled her
mouth. Sandy realized she'd bitten her cheek, but the pain was
nonexistent against the ache blooming in her heart. Did he
understand what he was saying? That he was with her only because
the other woman had disappeared from his life?

"Ryan, please."
Stop talking
.

He shook his head. "She's
very special to me and I'll tell you about her sometime. But I'm
with
you
.
I
want
to be with
you. She's never going to be an issue between us." He pressed his
lips to her palm. "I know who I'm with, too, Sandy
Wheaton."

Sandy regarded him without speaking. She
felt like an animal caught in the headlights, unable to move,
unable to do anything but wait for the disastrous impact that could
only bring death. Yes, he knew who he was with; knew he was with
his second choice . . . and had just admitted that fact out loud.
The fist around her chest slowly squeezed the air from her
lungs.

He moved his mouth to her wrist where he
pressed tiny kisses. "Sweetheart . . . you're amazing . . . you're
beautiful . . . you're everything I never knew I wanted and never
thought I would find. The dream of her is nothing compared to the
reality of you."

Sandy blinked. Had he really just replaced
those looming headlights with sunshine and rainbows? She must be
out-of-her-head crazy. How could she believe him? Did Ryan even
really know what he wanted?

He held her hand against his cheek and Sandy
looked into his eyes, fell into the vulnerability he let her see.
She still had all the power. She held their future. She didn’t know
if she could live with the revelation that she was his second
choice. But in a moment of perfect clarity, she recognized her own
weakness; she couldn’t live without him.

Sandy inhaled deeply, drawing in the spicy
woodsy scent of him that had become so familiar. She slid her hand
around to the back of his neck and played with the ends of his
hair. Almost in slow motion, she advanced, hesitating just a hair's
breadth from touching his lips. Ryan remained still, waiting, she
understood, for her to make the next move.

"Will you hold me tonight?" She brushed her
lips across his, just a hint of a touch. "I just need some
time."

"Darlin', take as long as you need and I'll
hold you for as long as you let me."

****

Sandy awoke to find Ryan dressing in the
dark. "Where are you going?"

"Go back to sleep." He laid a tender kiss on
her forehead, brushing back her hair. "I'm going to help Sean with
the stock. He's been doing it all on his own for too long."

Sandy sat up, blinking when she turned on
the lamp. "Let me help."

But Ryan shook his head and turned the lamp
back off. "No, go back to sleep. I'll be by later. Promise."

She didn’t want him to leave. She didn’t
want him to leave without her. But he seemed determined to go back
to the ranch alone.

He kissed her, slow and deep. "Chicory, in
case I forgot to tell you, I'm real glad you decided to come to
Wyoming."

But after he closed the door behind him, she
was acutely aware of being alone as usual. Doubt edged its way back
into Sandy's consciousness. Would Ryan ever really love her the way
he loved his mystery woman?

****

The aftershocks still rocked the building.
He had to be feeling them too.

"Still here, Angel," he assured her after a
strong one.

She let out the breath she'd unconsciously
been holding.

"Listen," he said. "I'm not giving up. But I
want you to promise me something. Can you do that?"

"Maybe." She lost the battle to keep her
voice steady.

"I was thinking about the song you sang for
me. I want you to live, Angel. To really live, like the song says.
Whatever happens here or doesn't . . . I want you to promise you'll
do something you want to do. If you like singing, I want you to
sing every day. If you want to travel, promise me you'll travel.
And if you want to settle down, do it in a place you love. With or
without me, I want your life to be good," Mick said. "Can you
promise me?"

Sandy closed her eyes and drew in a deep
breath. This was obviously important to him. "Yeah, I can promise
that. Mick, is there someone I can call for you?"