Her Only Hero (11 page)

How would she react if he offered to lend her the money? Shoot
him out of the water, probably. Not that he had that much to lend, but at least
it would be a start. Maybe enough for the deposit the hospital required.

“What about a loan?”

“I’ve tried. The loan officer was polite enough not to laugh.”
She rubbed her neck again, and he could guess at the tension that had taken up
residence there. “If I have a signed contract with my buyer, then they’d be
happy to advance me the money. Of course, if I had that, I wouldn’t need them,
would I?”

“Maybe I could help.”

She shook her head, as he’d known she would. “I don’t borrow
from friends.”

“I want to help.”

A faint
smile teased her lips as she shot a glance at him. “Admit it. Your bank account
probably looks almost as bad as mine does.”

The trace of a smile reassured him. Laura was bouncing back.
That resilience of hers was probably the only thing that kept her going in
spite of all the obstacles in her path.

“I’m sure the bank doesn’t consider me one of their prime
accounts, but what I have is yours.” That sounded a little too personal. “For
Mandy’s sake. Besides, I know you’re good for it.”

The smile faded. “I’m not good for anything unless the sale goes
through. There’s barely enough to—” She stopped, clamping her lips shut.

“Laura—”

Careful, he warned himself. Don’t get too close or she’ll shut
you out.

“I’m sorry. I know you said the building was all your husband
left you, but I assumed there was insurance or something.”

“Nothing. Like a lot of people, Jason figured he had plenty of
time to worry about that.” A shiver went through her, strong enough for him to
see, and she rubbed her arms. “As it turned out, he didn’t. A rainy night, an
out-of-control driver on the Schuylkill Expressway, and there was no time left
at all.”

“I’m sorry.” He’d never asked what happened to her husband. How
dumb was that for someone who wanted to be a friend?

Her shoulders moved in what might have been a shrug, and she
wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He took a step closer. He wanted to touch her,
to comfort her, but her body language warned him off. “I’m ashamed that I
didn’t realize how bad it was. You had to deal with the loss of the man you
loved as well as the financial problems and your daughter.”

Her face seemed to freeze. “That might be true. Except that
Jason had killed whatever was left of our love a long time before he died.”

For a moment Laura stood staring at Ryan, unable to believe the
words had come out of her mouth. Then she turned away, her heart thudding in
her chest.

She didn’t talk about that. Didn’t tell anyone about Jason,
whether out of loyalty or a sense of her own failure she wasn’t sure. She just
didn’t.

“Sorry.” She managed to get the word out through a tight throat.

She heard Ryan’s step behind her and felt his hands come down on
her shoulders—strong, supporting.

“Don’t be sorry.” His deep voice had gone even deeper, as if he
struggled with emotion, too. “I’m glad you said it.”

“I don’t talk about my marriage.”

“Maybe you should.” His grip tightened a little. “It seems to me
you’re carrying an awful lot on these shoulders, Laura. Wouldn’t it ease the
burden a little to share it with a friend?”

That calm offer of friendship was the best thing he could have
done, she realized. Too much sympathy would have pitched her control out the
window.

“Maybe. I don’t know.” She turned slowly to face him. “You
didn’t know Jason. If you had, you might see the situation differently.”

“I might,” he said. He took her hand and tugged her to the
couch. “Come on. Sitting makes it easier to share confidences.”

“What makes you think I’m going to share anything?” But she sat
down next to him, hearing the comforting squeak of the couch springs, feeling
the soft cushions curve around her like supporting arms.

“Because we’re friends. Because you need to.”

He was right about that. She did need to. She’d held it all
inside for so long that the emotions roiled at the slightest touch. “Yes. I
guess I do.”

He put his hand over hers where it lay on the couch between
them. “So talk to me about it. You loved him once,” he prompted.

“Yes.” She tried to remember how it had felt, but so many
difficult times had come between. “We met in college. Jason was a year ahead of
me. Popular, charming, smart. Everyone liked Jason.”

She might have been describing Ryan back in high school. The
flash of insight threw her off track. Was that what had attracted her to
Jason—that superficial resemblance to the guy she’d had a crush on in high
school?

Fortunately Ryan couldn’t guess what she was thinking. “So you
graduated, got married, started a life,” he prompted.

“We bought a townhouse in Philadelphia. Jason’s father helped us
with the down payment. He said he didn’t want us to live in a dump while we
were starting out.”

Was that when it had started—that constant interference in their
lives? That constant gibing at Jason that he couldn’t handle things on his own?

“That was nice of him. Or was it?” Ryan seemed to catch the
mixed feelings in her tone.

“I don’t know. Maybe he intended to be kind, but—” She shook her
head. “I still don’t understand the relationship between Jason and his father.
I never did. I just know that Jason was always trying to prove he could handle
things on his own. That he could be a better businessman than his father had
ever been.”

Ryan’s fingers moved comfortingly on hers. “Fathers and sons can
drive each other crazy. Their relationship wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have handled the situation better. But if I questioned
anything Jason was doing, he acted as if I were criticizing him, just as his
father did. So eventually he stopped telling me what he did.” She swallowed.
This was the hard part, and there was no point in confiding if she didn’t say
it. “Then Mandy was born.”

Her throat closed. Ryan didn’t say anything. He just waited.

“Jason hadn’t wanted a baby, but if we were going to have one,
it should have been a son. And it should have been perfect.”

His hand tightened convulsively on hers. “How could he possibly
look at that little girl and not fall in love with her?”

That was what she’d always thought, and she was immeasurably
comforted to hear Ryan say the words.

“I don’t know. I still don’t understand. He just— turned us off.
As if our marriage, our family, had been a business deal that went bad.” She
sucked in a breath. “I tried. I couldn’t reach him.”

“Did you separate?”

“No.” Her mouth twisted. “We’d made vows I didn’t intend to
break. But he was away more and more. Business, he said. I didn’t know until
later that his father had cut him off. Too much money down too many bad deals.”

“Surely the man wouldn’t cut off his innocent granddaughter. It
wasn’t her fault that her father was…” He paused, seeming to delete several
word choices. “…a disappointment.”

Something else she’d never understood. “Your father wouldn’t
behave that way. Nor mine. Maybe that was where Jason got his attitude.”

Ryan shook his head slowly. “I guess there are people like that.
That doesn’t mean I can understand them. Or accept their attitude.”

“I tried to mend the breach, but there was nothing I could do.
Then I found out Jason had been trying to solve his financial problems at the
casinos in Atlantic City.” It hurt to say, but the words seemed to push
themselves out. “He was on his way there the night he was killed.”

Ryan shifted his weight toward her. “I’m sorry. Sorry he died,
sorry he was a jerk, sorry he didn’t realize what he had in that beautiful
little girl. In you.”

She felt the heat rush to her cheeks and tried to deny it. She
shouldn’t let Ryan see how much his words meant to her.

“Well, that’s my sad story, anyway. After I realized how little
was left when the creditors had been paid, I went to Jason’s father. I thought
he’d surely be willing to lend me the money to get back on my feet. I was
wrong.”

Again she had the feeling that Ryan was editing his words before
speaking.

“Maybe it’s a good thing I don’t know the man. I’d be tempted to
do something that would land me in jail.”

“You might be tempted, but you wouldn’t.” She could say that
with confidence. “That’s not who you are.”

His fingers smoothed hers. “You must know me better than I know
myself, then.”

Maybe she did. At least she knew what a good heart he had
underneath the charm he wore so casually. That was what Jason had been missing.

“So now you know.” She tried to smile. “And you were right. It
does feel good to tell a friend. Thank you.”

“Any time.” His voice lightened. “Burdens gladly shared, no
charge. You’d do the same for me.”

Would she? She’d lived absorbed in her daughter and her own
problems for so long that maybe she’d lost the power to empathize with others.

“I hope so.” She glanced up at his face, to find it nearer than
she’d expected. Her heart gave a little hiccup, and she had to concentrate to
keep her voice even. “I hope I can be as good a friend as you.”

She expected the kind of light-hearted response Ryan used to
keep things on that smiling, surface level. But instead his blue eyes darkened
until they were almost navy.

“You already are.” His voice was a low, baritone rumble.

“I don’t think I—” Whatever she might have said got lost on the
way to her lips. She could only watch as his face drew nearer.

He was going to kiss her. She should turn away, she should stop
this before it started—

His lips claimed hers, and she stopped thinking altogether. His
arms closed around her warmly, his hands stroking her back, molding her against
him.

She grasped his shoulders, feeling the strength and
protectiveness that poured from him. Ryan cared. He might not want to admit it,
but he cared.

“Laura.” He brushed feather-light kisses across her cheek. “I’d
hate to tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

She nestled her cheek against his. Take it lightly, some
rational part of her mind warned. Just because he’s attracted, just because he
cares, that doesn’t mean he will ever want anything more.

“You’re not the only one.” She leaned back in the circle of his
arms, trying for a lightness she didn’t feel. She patted his cheek. “This was
the subject of my daydreams in high school, after all.”

He smiled, the cleft in his chin deepening. “I was a dummy in
high school.”

She thought that was relief in his eyes at her light response.
He didn’t want her to overreact, after all.

That wasn’t
part of his persona. Nothing serious, nothing permanent, that was Ryan.

“I’d be tempted not to agree with that, but it’s too late for an
argument.” She rose, turning away from him before her smile could slip and her
expression showed him what she really felt for him.

He got up quickly. “You’re right. I just intended to drop by and
make sure you were okay.”

“Instead you got stuck hearing my life story.”

“Hey.” He caught her arm, turning her to face him. “I don’t
regret anything that happened tonight.” His fingers brushed her cheek, nearly
undoing her.

“Thank you, Ryan. For everything.” It means more than you’ll
ever know.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.”

She followed him down the stairs, grateful that the dim light
hid any strain in her expression. At the outside door he paused. He bent to
plant a kiss where his touch had been.

“I mean it. I’ll call.”

“I know.”

He would call. She watched him walk away and then closed and bolted
the door. But that didn’t mean anything would come of it.