Page 3 of Only for You: Tap and Taryn
Taryn nodded, but her eyes sought Tap’s, locking on him with an intensity that hit like a sucker punch. “Thank you,” she whispered, voice barely carrying over the chaos.
He nodded, words stuck in his throat. What was there to say? You’re welcome for saving the woman who ripped my heart out? He turned away, helping the crew with the deer carcass, anything to keep busy. But his mind raced, replaying that touch, the garter belt glimpse, the way her pulse had raced under his fingers. Damn it, Tap, get a grip.
By the time they loaded her into the ambulance, Becky had texted him:Hospital’s ready. You riding along?
He should say no. Let the pros handle it. But his feet moved on their own, climbing into the back. “I’m her ride,” he lied to the paramedic, who just shrugged.
Taryn’s eyes widened as he settled beside her, the doors closing with a thud that sealed them in together. The ambulance lurched forward, sirens blaring again, and the space felt too small, too charged. Her hand brushed his knee as she shifted, and he felt that old pull, like gravity dragging him back to a place he’d sworn off.
“Why are you here?” she asked softly, eyes searching his face.
“Protocol,” he muttered, avoiding her gaze. But it was a lie, and they both knew it. He was here because even after all these years, Taryn Stone still owned a piece of him—the broken, jagged part that craved her like a drug.
The ride to the hospital was a blur of beeps and IV lines, but Tap couldn’t shake the heat building in his veins. Whenthey wheeled her in, he followed, ignoring the nurses’ curious glances. Small town—word would spread like wildfire. Prom king and queen, reunited over a deer smash.
Great.
In the ER, the doctor confirmed what Tap already knew: bruised leg, minor concussion from the airbag, nothing broken. “You’ll be sore, but you’re lucky,” the doc said, patting her shoulder. “Rest up, ice it, and follow up with your primary. I’ll start the paperwork to get you on your way. Do you have a ride home?”
Taryn nodded, but her eyes were on Tap, who hovered by the door like a shadow. “Can you… take me home?” she asked, voice tentative.
He should have said no. Called a cab, or Becky, or anyone else. But the words came out rough, possessive. “Yeah. I’ll take you.” It would take an hour or so for the discharge. Tap pointed to the door, “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
As he’d expected, there was a waiting room with way too many uniforms in it.Crows, looking for something shiny to peck at.He glanced around and picked the person least likely to give him shit about everything that had happened so far.
“Hey ’Topher, can you give me a lift out to my place?” He pitched his voice a little louder, so everyone could hear. “I’ll be Taryn’s ride home.”
The wave of murmurs should have been heard around the world, they seemed that loud.
Back at the hospital with an hour to spare, once she finally was free to go, he helped her into his truck. She leaned heavily into his body for support, all while the air thickenedwith unspoken things. Her signature jasmine scent blended with something sweeter as it filled the cab, stirring memories of stolen nights in his old Chevy, hands exploring, promises whispered.
Last thing I need is to hash over history. We’re not the same people we were back then.
He gripped the wheel tighter, jaw set, as they drove the familiar roads back to town. Taryn remained silent, and every time he glanced her direction, she was just turning away.Almost as if she didn’t want to get caught looking. Goddammit.
“Why did you come back?” he finally asked, the question that had burned through him since he’d first seen her car months ago.
Taryn stared out the window, fingers twisting in her lap. “Divorce. You know how it goes. It was a bad one. I needed a fresh start … or maybe I wanted whatever’s left of the old one.”
The word “divorce” hit like shrapnel, unexpected pain mixed with a dark satisfaction.Someone else had hurt her. Someone else had lost her.
“Sorry,” he said, not meaning it.
She turned to him, eyes glistening. “Are you? Really?”
They locked gazes for a moment.
He didn’t answer, not a nod or shake, not a word. But he reached out his hand, carefully covering hers. Just this touch was electric, a rich desire coiling low in his gut. This was dangerous, this draw to her. But through the rest of their drive to her childhood home, he realized he didn’t give the first shit.Taryn was back, and his heart that had beaten only for her was waking up, each thud and bang hungry and unforgiving.
Chapter 3: Unfinished Business
The drive to Taryn’s house was silent, even the air heavy with the weight of years’ worth of unsaid words. Tap pulled into the driveway of the old Stone place, the Victorian house looking as pristine as ever, like time hadn’t touched it. Unlike them. He slowly pulled his hand back, hyperaware of that loss as he killed the engine. Neither moved, the air between them thick, charged with that old electricity.
“Thanks for the ride,” she said, her voice soft as velvet, but he noted she didn’t reach for the door.
Tap nodded, one hand still on the wheel, knuckles white. “Do you need help getting inside?”
She hesitated, then nodded. “I’m afraid I do. My leg’s stiffening up.”
