Felicia nodded. “That would be wonderful and very informative. Thank you so much.” She paused. “I’d hug you, but I’m not sure our relationship has gotten to that level of intimacy and I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Taryn laughed, then reached for the other woman. “Let’s be wild,” she said.
Felicia flung herself at Taryn and held on tight. When they’d both straightened, Felicia was wiping away tears.
“Hormones are very powerful. I find myself crying at the littlest things. It’s disconcerting. On the other hand, my sexual desire is significantly increased. Gideon says I’m exhausting him.” She smiled. “Which he adores.”
“You’re really weird,” Taryn said. “I like you, but you’re strange.”
“I know, but I’ve learned to live with it.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
ANGEL DISCOVERED THAT being a Grove Keeper took a whole lot more time than he had expected. It wasn’t the meetings with the girls that were the problem—it was how he was expected to attend biweekly Grove Keeper meetings. This time he’d dragged Taryn along. He’d said it was so he got all the details for the upcoming mother-daughter tea right, but the truth was he wanted the distraction of having her near him.
He liked being around her. Not just looking at her, but breathing the same air. He liked how she moved, how she spoke and how she laughed. Over the past few years, he’d discovered that he liked strong women with attitude. Marie had been like that, in her fiery Cajun way. She could cuss at him in languages he’d never heard.
Consuelo was tough, which was why he enjoyed rooming with her. She had simple rules, and if everybody followed them, life was smooth. If not, the offending party had a fifty-fifty chance of waking up with a scorpion in his bed.
Taryn was just as powerful, but on a completely different plane. She ran a multimillion-dollar business, kept former football players in line and then could spend an afternoon teaching seven-year-olds how to French-braid their hair.
As they walked into the conference room, he leaned close. “You ditched the power suit.”
“I wanted to fit in.”
He held in a grin. Her idea of fitting in was white capri pants with a black leaf design, a fitted short-sleeve white sweater and black wedge sandals with a bunch of straps. An outfit, he would guess, that cost more than the average car payment. Her handbag had a big bow on it and was made by somebody called Valentino. He didn’t know who Valentino was, but Angel would guess he or she had never come to Fool’s Gold.
They took their seats at the large table. Taryn leaned toward him. “The ladies like you.”
He glanced around at the other participants. They were mostly women, but that was to be expected. “There are a few dads who come to the meetings.”
“Yes, but you’re getting the special smiles.”
He flashed her a smile. “It’s the scar. Chicks dig scars.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Do they?”
Denise Hendrix walked to the front of the table, took her seat and called the meeting to order.
Each of the Keepers had to report on his or her grove. Angel waited until it was his turn, then stood and said the girls were doing well with their community service project. The puppies were responding well to the attention. He sat down as quickly as he could.
Taryn leaned close and patted his leg. “Well done,” she whispered.
When everyone had updated their grove status, Denise shuffled a few papers, then smiled broadly.
“I have some exciting news. As those of you who have been Grove Keepers before know, we try to arrange an all-grove campout. For logistical reasons we didn’t think we were going to be able to pull it together this year, but the campsite we like best has become available and I say we go for it.”
Several of the women cheered. Taryn’s mouth straightened.
“Camping?” she asked quietly. “As in sleeping outdoors on purpose?”
He chuckled. “Think of it as good practice for your Living Life at a Run weekend.”
“I’d rather not. You and I are planning to go hiking. Isn’t that enough?”
He grinned.
“I’ll be emailing each of you the particulars this afternoon,” Denise continued. “As we’ve done in the past, there will be a separate camping area for the parents who wish to stay close.” Her brown eyes found him. “Angel, this affects you particularly. You have the youngest grove. For many of the girls, this will be their first camping experiencing. Except for sleepovers, it may be their first night away from their family. That can create emotional reactions.”
His pleasure at the thought of a weekend camping out fizzled. “Emotional reactions?”
Several of the women giggled.
“Nothing you can’t handle,” Denise told him.
Want to bet? But he only thought the question rather than saying it out loud.
“I would suggest you encourage the families to take advantage of the nearby camping area so they can be close if there’s any crisis.” She paused. “With the girls.”
Crisis? Why would there be a crisis?
Denise moved the meeting on to other business. Fifteen minutes later, they were done.
The rest of the group quickly left, but Angel stayed in his seat. Taryn sat next to him. Her violet eyes were bright with amusement.
“You’re happy,” he grumbled.
“I’m amused. There’s a difference. Now I’m not the only one worried about the all-grove camping trip.”
“I don’t want my girls crying.” He couldn’t handle the tears. “Or being upset. Camping is fun. We’ll go on hikes and learn about nature.” He had a few simple survival skills he could teach them.
“I’m sure they’ll be fine. Denise was simply offering ways to make sure it all goes well. Having the parents nearby is a good idea.”
He agreed with that, but still. Crying.
She stood. “If it makes you feel better, we have to get through the mother-daughter tea first. That will be fun.”
He rose and put his hand on the small of her back. “That’s your idea of helping?”
“You don’t like tea? There’ll be cookies. Cookies help.”
“I’m not five. You can’t change my mood with a cookie.”
“Good to know.” She paused in the doorway and looked at him. “What would change your mood?”
He thought of what she’d been like by the river. How she’d taken all he had to offer and had left him gasping for air. He thought about their weekend together and no matter how many times he reached for her, she was eager to play the game again.
He thought of her in her damn heels, the way she was both bossy and feminine, how sweet she was with the girls. If he was ever looking to break the rules, it would be with her. But that would never happen.
She leaned in and lightly kissed his mouth. “Good to know,” she murmured in his ear.
“Good to know what?”
“How I can change your mood.”
He was still chuckling as they went downstairs and out onto the street.
“What’s your afternoon like?” he asked.
“I have some work to get done. No meetings.”
“You have time for lunch?”
“Sure.”
He took her hands in his and guided them toward Fifth. “You been to Margaritaville?” he asked. “Great food.”
“Powerful margaritas,” she told him. “Not that I drink at lunch.”
“You could make an exception.”
“I’d never make it back to the office.”
“I know.”
She laughed. “Trying to get me to be bad? It wouldn’t take much.” She pointed to the flower boxes in the storefronts they passed. “They change the flowers constantly. They’re always blooming and completely right for the season. When the guys first dragged me here, I thought I’d fallen into some 1950s sitcom form of hell.”
“You didn’t like the town?” What was there not to like?
“I th
ought it was small and provincial,” she admitted. “The people were way too friendly. No one needs to be saying hi to me every fifteen seconds. I couldn’t believe I’d been outvoted and this was where we were going to be.”
“And now?”
She looked around. “It’s growing on me.”
“Like fungus?”
She laughed. “Kind of. But good fungus. It’s like truffles. An acquired taste.” She squeezed his hand. “You, of course, liked it from the first.”
“Sure. Ford grew up here and he talked about it all the time. Justice spent a year here as a teenager. What they said reminded me of where I grew up. By the time Justice asked me to join CDS, I was looking for a place to settle in.”
“Roots?” she asked.
“Something like that.”
He understood that accepting Fool’s Gold as home meant letting a part of what he’d had with Marie and Marcus go. They wouldn’t be a part of this. But she would have loved it here. As for his son, well, there was no letting go there. Marcus was with him always.
Taryn drew him to a stop and eased him toward the building so they weren’t standing in the way. Then she touched his cheek. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Her violet eyes met his. “I meant, can I help? You’re getting lost in the past. Thinking about Marie and Marcus?”
He kept his expression neutral, because he could. But inside, he was slack-jawed. How had she guessed?
“It makes sense,” she went on. “You were together a long time. You were a family. She’ll always be a part of you. Like Marcus.” She gave him a soft smile. “I know there are things about the girls that freak you out, but I think it’s probably easier on you to be dealing with little girls. Teenage boys might bring back a lot of memories. That could be hard.”
He touched her hair. “When did you get so smart?”
“I’ve always been smart.”
He nodded. “I do miss her. I feel guilty.”
“For being happy? For moving on? Wouldn’t she have wanted that?”
“She would. It’s not that. Marie was practical. She wouldn’t expect me to stay stuck.” He hesitated. “It’s my fault they died.”
“It was a car accident. You weren’t even there.”
“And I should have been. I should have kept them safe.”
There it was—the truth. Spoken unexpectedly. It was his job to keep people safe, yet he hadn’t been able to save the two he loved most. A cliché, he thought, accepting the truth of it.
He waited for Taryn to say he was wrong, or try to talk him into thinking something else. Instead she kissed him, then tugged him along to the restaurant. When they were seated, she talked about her meeting with Mayor Marsha and had him laughing at her description of Felicia Boylan explaining what a happy ending meant.
She might not understand what he’d gone through, but she accepted his truth and the consequences that went with it. A rare combination. One he’d been lucky to find.
* * *
AFTER HER LUNCH with Angel, Taryn was too restless to go back to the office. She strolled through town and found herself in front of Paper Moon. Staring at the familiar logo reminded her of Dellina’s story of the stored wedding gowns and Sam’s reaction to them. She was still giggling when she stepped inside.
The new entrance was boarded up, which meant she had to step into the refined world of all things wedding. There was a young bride on a raised platform in front of five mirrors. She wore a ball gown confection of white lace and tulle, with what looked like her best friend, mother and grandmother hovering nearby.
Isabel spotted Taryn and hurried over.
“Save me,” she murmured. “Everything in that family is precious. She’s their precious daughter. They want her to look precious on her wedding day. The groom’s family is—”
“Precious?” Taryn asked.
Isabel groaned. “Exactly.” She waved at Madeline, her associate. “I’m leaving them in your capable hands.”
Madeline grinned. “I’ll make the experience as precious as possible.”
“You do that.”
Isabel made a quick call, then motioned for Taryn to follow her to the back of the store. They parted thick plastic covering a doorway and headed into the space next door. Taryn paused as she took in the changes from the last time she’d visited.
The walls had been painted a pale blue-gray and most of the permanent fixtures were in place. The office space in the rear still needed to be finished and the floor was concrete, but otherwise it looked good.
“You’re nearly there,” Taryn said.
“I know. They start on the floors next week. We’re laying down extra padding so all the walking isn’t so hard on our legs. The sound system is finished. Ford and I cranked it up last weekend.”
“And partied until dawn?” Taryn asked.
Isabel wiggled her eyebrows. “Something like that.” She pointed to a portable clothes rack. “Come on. I have a few things to show you.”
Taryn followed eagerly. Isabel had contracted with several new designers for clothes and accessories. The pieces were fresh, the styles appealing. Some were too avant-garde for her, but a surprising number of them were completely wearable.
Isabel held out an emerald-green leather jacket with narrow tucking at the waist. There was a flame-red dress with cutouts at the waist and two tailored suits—one with what looked like snakeskin trim.
“Color me impressed,” Taryn said. She stepped onto the towel Isabel tossed on the floor and pulled off her sandals. She stripped out of her shirt and capris, then reached for the red dress.
“Hey, it’s me,” someone called.
Patience Garrett, Justice’s wife and the owner of Brew-haha, came around the corner. She saw Taryn standing in her underwear and came to a stop.
“Oh, sorry,” she said, starting to turn her back.
“You’re in the right place,” Isabel told her. “I pulled out a few things for Taryn and I still have that great little black dress for you.” She grinned at Taryn. “Justice and Patience are going out for a romantic evening. He told her there would be a nice dinner out and I’m helping her spruce up her wardrobe.”
Taryn moved over to make room on the towel. “Please, join me,” she said as she pulled the red dress over her head and shimmied until it settled in place.
When she looked up, Patience was gnawing on her lower lip. Taryn wondered if she was upset she wasn’t getting a private showing of the dress.
“I can come back,” she said quickly.
Isabel looked at Patience, who blushed.
“It’s not that,” Patience assured her. “It’s just you’re so comfortable standing there in your underwear.”
Taryn sighed. “Sorry. It’s the boys. They’ve walked in on me in the locker room a bunch of times. I used to get upset, but they wore me down.”
Patience nodded. “This is good for me. Being adventurous. Were you wearing a thong? Aren’t they uncomfortable?”
Isabel laughed. “You’re going to have to give us lessons on being sexy, powerful women.”
“Who wear thongs,” Patience added.
She was pretty, with brown hair and brown eyes. She grabbed the hem of her Brew-haha T-shirt and pulled it off. Her jeans followed. Taryn told herself not to judge the plain cotton bikini briefs and unadorned white cotton bra. No doubt Patience was a much better person than she could ever aspire to be.
Patience took the black dress from Isabel and pulled it on. It was a simple tank style—fitted, with princess seaming and a hemline a good six inches above her knee.
“Nice,” Taryn said. “It fits you great.”
“It’s tight.” Patience tugged on the hem. “And short.”
“Sexy,” Taryn corrected. “You need a good push-up bra with that and a matching thong.” She grinned. “Only don’t let him see you getting dressed or you’ll never make it to dinner.”
Patience drew in a breath. “You’re right. I’m busy with
Brew-haha and he’s busy with CDS. We have Lillie and everything else that keeps the household running. I need to be more adventurous.” She turned to Isabel. “I’ll take it!”
“You should,” Isabel told her with a grin. “It’s Taryn. She inspires us all.”
Taryn stepped out of the red dress and put it back on the hanger. “I want this for sure. Now for the snake-trimmed suit.”
Isabel sighed. “I won’t even ask if you have shoes worthy of this. I’ve seen what you wear.”
“If I don’t have the right shoes, I’ll buy them. I love clothes and accessories and I don’t care who knows it.”
“I want to borrow your attitude for a night,” Patience told her. “Justice wouldn’t know what hit him.”
“Neither would Ford,” Isabel admitted.
“Your men love you the way you are,” Taryn reminded them. “And my attitude comes with a price.”
She smiled at them, as if joining in the joke, but she knew she was telling the truth. She copped an attitude because sometimes it was all she had to get her through. She’d learned early not to trust people and that the world could be a cold, unfeeling place. Pretending a strength she didn’t always have had gotten her through more than once. Now that she was in a place where maybe she could relax a little, she didn’t know how to let down her guard. At least not all the way.
She’d made friends here, and she was grateful. But every now and then she looked at women like Patience and Isabel and envied them. They were loved and could love in return. What would that be like? Not the friendship kind of love, but the romantic kind. Where she was the most important person in someone’s life. Where there was commitment and sharing and the promise of always.
For a second she thought about Angel, then shook her head. She knew better. He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking and she’d been through too much to ever see the romance of wanting what she couldn’t have.
They were good together, the sex was impressive and he didn’t get on her nerves. For her, that was plenty and she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.
When We Met Page 16
