She was aware of talking too much, of saying too much, but somehow the words kept on coming.
“Two weeks later, I lost the baby.”
It had happened so fast. She hadn’t even absorbed the fact that there was a child and then it was gone. She’d gone to see her doctor, who’d confirmed the miscarriage.
“I filed for a divorce the next day,” she continued. “Without a baby, there was no reason for us to stay together and I didn’t want to take advantage of Jack. Only the Stallions didn’t see it that way. All they knew was that their star quarterback was getting a divorce and that having his ex-wife around might make him uncomfortable, so I was fired.”
“Hell of a week,” Angel murmured.
And not her worst one, she thought. “Jack, being Jack, tried to talk them out of it. When that didn’t work, he came to me and offered to be a silent partner in a new PR firm. I agreed and Score was born. A few years later, he brought Sam and Kenny on board and we’ve been together ever since.”
They’d turned a business partnership into a family. No matter what, she and Jack would be there for each other. He hadn’t been the great love of her life, but she cared for him more than she’d ever cared about anyone. No matter what, she would be there for Jack and he would there for her. In a way, that was better than romance, because she could depend on it.
Angel smiled at her. “You win. I can’t top that story.”
“You could tell me about the guy who slit your throat.”
“He had a bad week, too. Enough on that. So what’s your favorite business in town?”
He was changing the subject—something she was happy to have happen. She’d already said too much and couldn’t figure out why. It certainly couldn’t be the wine. She was on her first glass.
“I can’t pick,” she admitted. “I like them all. Favorite season?”
“Summer.”
“Girls in bikinis?”
“I like running when it’s warm.”
“Running as in exercising outdoors on purpose?”
He chuckled. “That would be it, yes.”
“My idea of hell.”
“You work out in a gym.”
“How do you know I work out at all?”
His gaze traveled over her body. “I’m not going to bother answering that.”
“I do yoga, too,” she murmured.
He chuckled. “Lucky me. Favorite James Bond actor?”
“Pierce Brosnan. James Bond movies should come with a wink. The new guy is too serious. I miss all the gadgets.” She looked at him. “You, however, are old-school. Your favorite is Sean Connery.”
* * *
“HE IS,” ANGEL admitted, watching the last rays of sun play across Taryn’s face. For a second they flashed on her sculpted cheekbones and then the sun slipped below the horizon.
Lights had already come on around them, but even with them, she was mostly in shadow. Her pale skin gleamed while her dark eyes stayed mysterious.
He held in a chuckle, knowing he was acting like a sixteen-year-old on his first date with the prom queen. Horny and out of his league.
“I’m very much old-school,” he said as she rose.
Before he could figure out what she was doing, she slipped off her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. Whatever he’d been going to say next was lost when he took in her bare back and how the dress dipped low to her hips.
Her skin was smooth, her waist narrow. She settled back in the chair and angled toward him. What had been a tailored dress that hugged her curves had suddenly become so much more than that. His mouth went dry. Hunger boiled and sent blood flooding his groin.
“You’re probably the kind of person who enjoys books rather than an e-reader,” she said, picking up her wine again.
“I like how they feel in my hands,” he said without thinking, his gaze still on her. “The smell of the paper. It’s a tactile experience.” He raised his gaze to hers. “Nicely played.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a measured look. “I like that you don’t assume I’m easy.”
“Any man who does that is a fool.”
“The world is a foolish place.”
“When was the last time you let a man take care of you?”
She paused and something flashed in her eyes. A memory, he would guess. But good or bad? He couldn’t say.
“It’s been a while. I don’t trust easily. Just like you don’t give up control.”
“I can.”
“When was the last time? Nineteen ninety-eight?”
She was teasing. The real answer was 1992. With Marie. But he wasn’t going to talk about that.
He rose and walked around the table, then gently drew Taryn to her feet. He liked that they were nearly the same height.
“Love the shoes,” he murmured. “Ridiculous but effective.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, then lightly drew them down her arms. Every part of her appealed to him. His dick was more than willing, but the rest of him said it would be so much better to wait. Besides, he’d promised. For reasons he couldn’t explain, he had a feeling not many men had kept their promises to Taryn. He wanted to make sure he kept his.
She raised her chin, as if challenging him. He studied her mouth, the perfect shape, the lower lip slightly fuller than the top. He wanted to know how they would fit together when they kissed. How she would taste. He wanted to feel the steady pressure of need building until he had no choice but to guide them toward the inevitable end.
But not tonight.
He stepped to the side and picked up her jacket, then helped her into it. “It’s late. Let me walk you to your car.”
CHAPTER FOUR
NOTHING HAD HAPPENED. NOTHING!
The next morning Taryn was still doing her best to grasp that reality. She couldn’t decide if Angel deserved extra kudos for leaving her standing there by her car without even a good-night kiss or if she should attack him with one of her high heels the next time she saw him. Yes, he’d told her he was good at waiting, but she hadn’t expected him to be that good, damn him.
After a restless night, she was forced to use the heavy-duty concealer on the dark circles under her eyes, and it was all his fault. She’d tried to come up with all the things she should have said to him, along with imagining ignoring him when he tried to approach her later. Only she didn’t want to ignore him, and even if she did, acting that way gave him too much power. She didn’t want him thinking he got to her, although he did. Dating guys who were afraid of her was much, much simpler. Although she had to admit despite the lack of sleep, this was way more fun.
She dressed and drove to the office, where her exotic orchid was waiting for her on her desk. She checked the moisture level of the soil, as per the instructions, then turned on her computer and prepared to meet her day. While she waited for her computer to boot up, she checked her voice mail on her work phone. Nothing. And she’d already checked her cell that morning. Twice. The man hadn’t called. He hadn’t kissed her and now he wasn’t phoning. She and Angel were going to have to have a serious conversation about the rules. He was supposed to try and she was supposed to say no. Everybody knew that. His ass-backward plan was really starting to get on her nerves.
Which was probably his strategy all along.
* * *
“I DON’T WANT to,” Larissa said, a distinct whine in her voice.
“Do I look as if I care?” Taryn asked as she parked in front of Jo’s Bar. One of the advantages of Fool’s Gold during the workweek was that nearly everyone walked everywhere. So there was always convenient parking.
In theory the restaurant was only about a quarter mile from the Score offices, but in her shoes, it might as well be fifty. Four-inch heels looked amazing but they were a bitch to walk in.
Today she was wearing black-lacquered Gucci pumps with three skinny straps across the top of her foot. Technically they had a five-inch heel, but there was a one-inch platform. They were elegant and simple, not to mention the perfect complement to her Roberto Cavalli reptile-print silk blazer. Underneath she had on a plain sheath dress.
Taryn loved clothes—probably because, until she was thirty, she’d never been able to afford anything that wasn’t secondhand. Now she was making up for lost time. And she didn’t care if everyone dressed casually in town. She didn’t and people would have to get used to that.
Larissa continued to sit in the car. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “What if no one likes me?”
Taryn angled toward her friend. “You know you’re being silly,” she said gently. “Everyone is going to love you. You’re sweet and funny and a loyal friend. What’s not to like?”
Instead of relaxing, Larissa glared at her. “You’re being nice. What’s wrong? Am I dying and don’t know it?”
Taryn sighed. “You’re not dying. I’m being supportive. I can be supportive.”
“I know. It’s not you. I really like this place and I want to fit in.”
“You fit in way more than me, and I’ve made friends.”
Larissa brightened at the thought. “You’re right. I’m much nicer than you, too. Okay, let’s go.”
Taryn collected her Prada bag. “Just give me a second to bask in the warmth of your friendship,” she muttered, then climbed out of her car.
When they were both on the sidewalk, Larissa glanced down at her jeans. She’d put a navy blazer over her pink T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail. “Am I dressed okay? You always look really nice.”
“No one dresses up in this town except for me,” Taryn assured her. “And the mayor, who is in her sixties. Besides, we’re having lunch in a bar.”
“I see. What’s up with that? You don’t like bars.”
“That’s because it took me two years to break the boys of the habit of having staff meetings in bars.” Taryn gave Larissa a little push toward the door. “You’ll see. This is different.”
Taryn had resisted the first time she was invited to lunch at Jo’s Bar. She hadn’t understood why the women in town wouldn’t want to go to a nice café or tea shop. But once she’d gone into the place, she understood the appeal.
She and Larissa walked into the open space and came to a stop while Larissa looked around. Taryn was already familiar with the mauve walls, flattering light and muted TVs turned to the Style network and HGTV.
There were tables along with booths, a list of specials on a chalkboard and quiet music playing in the background.
Larissa grinned. “Nice. Where do the guys hang out?”
“They have a room in the back. I’ve heard that at night this is more of a couples place, but during the day, the ladies rule.”
She spotted Dellina, Isabel and Noelle sitting at a round table. “Over there,” Taryn said, leading the way.
“Are they smiling?”
Taryn rolled her eyes. “You’re a freak, you know that.”
“Yeah, that’s hardly news.”
“Hi, all,” Taryn said as she approached the table. “This is my friend Larissa. She works for Score. She’s Jack’s personal assistant and the boys’ masseuse. While she’s a wonderful person, don’t agree to help her with any projects. Larissa was born to rescue the world. Seriously, if you let her, she’ll talk you into helping her save some endangered leaf or raid an elementary school to help with a hamster rescue.”
“I would never rescue hamsters from schoolkids,” Larissa told her. “I trust them to care for their pets.”
“So you say now.” Taryn pointed to the table. “Dellina is an event planner. Noelle owns The Christmas Attic, an adorable store on Fourth Street. Everything Christmas, of course, but also seasonal gifty things. Shop there for your mother. Trust me, she’ll love whatever you buy from Noelle. Isabel owns Paper Moon. It used to be a bridal gown shop. Now she also sells yummy clothes and I’m spending way too much money there.”
All three women greeted Taryn and Larissa. Isabel pulled out the seat next to her.
“Taryn, your new suit is back from the tailor,” Isabel told her. “Whenever you want to pick it up.”
“Thanks.” She settled in, then watched as Larissa sat across from her between Noelle and Dellina.
Last fall, when she’d first visited Fool’s Gold, she was convinced she would hate living there. Nothing about a small town appealed to her. But now she had to admit, the place had grown on her. She’d made friends and settled into the comfortable rhythm of a life defined by which festival was next.
She’d always thought she preferred Los Angeles, where she could go about her business unnoticed. In Fool’s Gold, there were no secrets. Which meant if something bad happened, someone would be there to get her through. While the realization was a little strange, it was also comforting.
“You need a redhead,” Jo said, coming up to the table with menus.
Dellina leaned close to Taryn. “She’s right. It’s you and me against those three blondes.”
“We can take them,” Taryn told her confidently, then introduced Larissa to the owner of Jo’s Bar.
After Jo explained about the specials, she took their drink orders and left.
Noelle put down her menu. “Okay,” she said, smiling at Larissa. “We want to know your life story. We’ll share ours, too. I’ll go first. I moved here last year. I was a lawyer, which turned out to not be my thing. Now I run The Christmas Attic, like Taryn said. I’m married to Gabriel, who is a doctor here in town.” She pointed at Dellina.