She's the One: COunting on Love, Book 1 (10 page)

She took a deep breath and leaned back against the side of her car. “Hi, Ryan. It’s Amanda.”

There was a long pause. Then he said, “What did you tell Emma when you asked for my number?”

“How do you know I asked Emma?”

He chuckled. “Because you wouldn’t ask Conner, Isabelle and Olivia don’t have it, and you don’t have the other guys’ numbers to ask them.”

She smiled, his voice making her stupidly happy. “I just told her I needed it.”

He didn’t seem as surprised by that as she had been.

“Well, now that you have my number, can I expect explicit text messages and inappropriate photos?”

She laughed. “I promise not to harass you like that.”

“Damn.”

Feeling lighter, she decided to be fully upfront. “I’m actually calling to apologize.”

She heard a rustling on his end of the phone. “That’s not necessary.”

“It is. In fact…” She swallowed hard.

She hadn’t asked a guy out in a really long time and she couldn’t remember being nervous about it before. Typically she asked guys to be her date for various business-related events—awards dinners, Christmas parties, faculty get-togethers—never just a because-I-like you date. And there were only three men she asked to those events because she was comfortable with them, they were polite and could handle themselves in those professional situations without worry, and there was no pressure about sex.

Nate Sullivan was one of those guys. Nate had plenty of cocky, that was for sure. He was the lead orthopedic trauma surgeon at St. A’s, after all. While most of the orthopedic surgeons did hip fractures and athletic injuries, Nate was the one they called in for the accidents that left patients with broken arms, legs, ribs and a vertebra or two.

Nate basically put people who had been turned into jigsaw puzzles back together.

But he was also a friend, a man she liked and could have good conversations with, who could handle himself in classy situations. Nate didn’t have any time for romantic relationships. He was a nationally renowned trauma surgeon and a single dad to a teenage son. There was no time or energy left for maintaining relationships with women. Not that he slept alone if he didn’t want to. Nate was good-looking, sophisticated and charming. He had as much female company as he wanted. But he didn’t do
relationships
. So he enjoyed accompanying her to the various black-tie events she attended, and they were both happy with the kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.

She didn’t want a kiss on the cheek from Ryan. And she wasn’t going to take him to a faculty party.

“In fact?” Ryan prompted.

“I’d like to ask you out again.”

There was no answer on the other end of the phone. For a long, long time. Her heart had already been pounding. Now it felt like it was being squeezed as it tried to pound.

“Ryan?” she finally asked.

He cleared his throat. “On a date?”

“Yes. But an Amanda date. Not a what-would-Emma-do thing. I want to show you that I can act civilized and not make embarrassing or offensive assumptions about people.”

Another long, long pause. Amanda concentrated on breathing. If he said no, that would be…horrible. Not brokenhearted horrible, but how-will-I-ever-face-him-again horrible. After last night, she was worried enough about her cheeks burning off when she saw him again. If he turned her down for an honest to goodness, grown-up, noncrazy date, she didn’t know if she could show up to any more football games. Which would be too bad. She enjoyed watching the guys play.

“The thing is,” she said in a rush before he could say no, “I do respect you. You don’t judge people, you don’t give unsolicited advice, you don’t make people feel uncomfortable because they might be different. You accept everyone.”

There was no sound on the other end of the phone. She wondered if she’d shocked him. Because
she
was a little shocked that she knew these things about him. But she’d clearly been paying attention even if it wasn’t on purpose.

“You make everyone feel good and…I would love to spend some more time with you. Time where I can do and say whatever I want and not worry about it disappointing someone or shocking someone or someone thinking I’m weird. I might be wrong, but you seem like the kind of guy to roll with things even if they seem a little nutty. I could use a little nutty time. What do you say?”

She stopped and had to breathe at that point, all the words having rushed out at once. She wasn’t sure
exactly
what she wanted to do, but it was rare when she could do whatever she wanted without worrying about who was watching or who it would affect. With Ryan she somehow felt like she’d be…safe…to do whatever she wanted to.

But instead of answering that question, he asked, “When was the last time you asked a guy out on a date?”

She was the one to hesitate this time. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the guys at the hospital talk. We know that guys ask you out all the time. We also know that you take Nate to most of your work things. If he can’t go, you take some other guy who’s only a friend. When was the last time
you
did the asking when it wasn’t something you had to go to for work?”

“The guys at the hospital talk about me?”

Ryan laughed. “Of course they do. We only hire smart guys at St. A’s.”

That was really distracting. When she went to St. Anthony’s, she spent a lot of time talking to staff, figuring out what opportunities there were for her students to observe other parts of the healthcare team working, what things her students needed to know or be able to do to impress those people, how her students performed when there, and so on. Yes, sometimes guys at the hospital asked her out. Sometimes she even said yes. But to think that they were all talking about her afterward or when she wasn’t there was…distracting.

“What do they say?”

Ryan laughed again. “Oh, no. You’re not sidetracking me. When was the last time you asked a guy out on a real date?”

She thought about it. “I don’t remember.”

“Good enough for me. I’ll definitely go.”

She straightened away from the car. “You will?” She felt a rush of relief, followed quickly by a rush of nerves. Where was she going to take him? What would she wear? Why hadn’t she thought this out more fully before she’d called him?

“Sure. I can’t wait to brag about this. The guys at St. A’s are gonna keel over from jealousy.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” she said quickly. “My brother can’t know. And even if you don’t tell him directly, someone will say something and he’ll find out. Honestly, he’s not going to like—”

“Amanda,” Ryan broke in.

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

She did.

“I’m giving you a hard time. I won’t say anything.”

She breathed again.

“I like your brother and I know this all stresses him.”

“You say stuff about you and Emma all the time,” she pointed out. In fact, Ryan and Emma both seemed to specifically look for ways to flaunt their hook-up in front of Conner. Another reason she’d assumed it was more than a swimming lesson.

“Because we’re just messing around and deep down your brother knows that,” Ryan said.

“You don’t think Conner will think we’re just messing around?” she asked.

“I don’t think Conner thinks you’re capable of just messing around, Amanda. I don’t think most people think you’re capable of messing around.”

She felt like maybe she should be offended by that, but when she thought about it, she realized he was right. And she should be glad about it. She wanted her students and her siblings to see her as upstanding and responsible. In fact—and she’d only admit this to herself—she would rather Conner think that of her than her students. The last thing she wanted to do was cause her brother more headaches than he already had. It was her way of protecting him like he did all of them.

She was capable of messing around, though. She just wasn’t going to. “I want one day of being…not the usual me. I want to do something that I don’t normally do,” she told Ryan. “There will also be no falling in love and getting serious.”

“What about near-public sex?” Ryan asked. “Is that on the yes list or the no list?”

Again, Amanda had to block the memories. She could still feel Ryan’s hands on her when they’d been on that couch. His big hands cupping her ass firmly. His long fingers stroking her. The look of hunger and disbelief on his face.

She cleared her throat. “No near-public sex.”

“Great.”

Great? Amanda felt her eyebrows shoot up. “But completely private sex isn’t off the table,” she told him. For some reason.

Mostly because she wanted a reaction from him. Because she wouldn’t be upset if he wanted to pick up where last night had ended. Well, before the whole you-don’t-respect-me thing.

“After I prove to you that I can be a fun person and that I don’t assume the worst about you,” she added, when he didn’t reply right away.

“Tell you what,” Ryan said. “I’ll go out with you if you promise there will be no sex.”

She stopped, waiting for him to go on. Or to laugh. When he didn’t do either she asked, “No sex?”

“Right. I think we both have some assumptions to disprove. You’re going to show me that you’re not going to base your opinion of me only on the things you’ve heard and imagined. And I’m going to show you that, while you should absolutely
want
to sleep with me, there’s more reason than that to spend time with me.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. She really didn’t like the no-sex rule. She believed there was more to Ryan than that. Of course there was. But, well, you didn’t go for a ride in a convertible on a nice summer day and leave the top up. If something had a feature that attracted you, then you tried that feature out. Fully.

She’d come on strong last night. And she definitely knew what she liked when it came to men and sex. She’d been told she gave off a confident, sexy vibe. Maybe that was bugging Ryan. “Are you intimidated by the idea of being with me?” she blurted.

He chuckled in her ear. “Intimidated? No, that’s not the word I’d use.”

Hmm. He didn’t
sound
intimidated. But why would he say no to sex? “So, the idea of me naked, lying back on your bed, ready and willing for anything, doesn’t make you nervous?”

He cleared his throat and said gruffly, “It makes me harder than hell. Which you know. But it’s not going to work.”

“The idea that I’m expecting more than missionary sex in the dark doesn’t bother you at all?”

“Mandi.”

The nickname and the husky note in his voice made a shiver of pleasure trip down her spine.

“Missionary is only there for when I’ve worn you out to the point that all you can do is lie there and let me do whatever I want.”

She pulled in a deep breath.

“And,” he added, “it’ll only be dark if we get so wild that we knock over and break the lamp. ’Cause I intend to be sure that I can see every single glorious inch of you.”

Okay, maybe he wasn’t intimidated after all.

“So,” Ryan asked, his voice back to normal. “Where are we going and what time are you picking me up?”

Chapter Four

Ryan couldn’t stop grinning. Amanda Dixon had called to ask him out. Something she
never
did. He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t want to go. He should’ve said no.

She’d been pretty insulting to him last night after all.

But she wanted to have sex with him. That was hard to ignore.

Plus, he wanted to prove to her exactly what he’d said—that there was more to him for a woman to enjoy than his amazing skills in the bedroom.

He wasn’t exactly sure why. Just as he still wasn’t exactly sure why it mattered that she didn’t respect him. Maybe it was that she was his friend’s sister. Maybe it was that Amanda was a classy woman and he wanted her to know that he was good for more than the best massages—with flavored massage oil, of course—and to-die-for next-morning fruit smoothies.

Or maybe it was that he wanted to prove that to himself.

It had been a really long time since he’d dated a woman for reasons other than a good time. Not that he didn’t think he and Amanda would have a good time. But he wanted to have…an important time. Which didn’t even make sense to him. What was an
important
time? What made it important? And why hadn’t the other girls been important? What made Amanda so important?

Or maybe it was that he also thought maybe Amanda needed him. For the massages and the fruit smoothies and the three-times-in-a-row orgasms. He didn’t think she’d had a lot of any of those things.

But yeah, okay, he wanted to be more to her than that.

Ryan somehow kept himself busy for the next two hours. She’d called him at nine thirty in the morning, but she’d also told him that she would pick him up at noon. Noon. Who went on a date—important or not—at noon on a Sunday?

But he was ready. He’d gone for a run, showered, cleaned up around the house, checked his massage oil stock and smoothie ingredients and was, as instructed, in jeans and a T-shirt at eleven forty-seven.