Before We Kiss

She set down her glass. “Did you know Mayor Marsha had a dog?” she asked Bailey.

“No. She’s never said anything. Why?”

“She left her dog with Fayrene. I remember somebody mentioning a trip.”

“Me, too,” Taryn said. “Then everyone freaked out, as if Mayor Marsha wasn’t allowed to travel. Can’t the woman take a vacation without causing a scandal?”

“I think it’s because Mayor Marsha doesn’t go away much,” Dellina said. “I don’t remember it ever happening when I was growing up, although she must have left town sometime.”

“Where’s she going?” Larissa asked.

“New Zealand.”

“That’s far,” Dellina said, wondering how long the flight had to be. Twelve hours? Longer? “What’s there?”

“The Lord of the Rings tour,” Taryn said with a grin. “Maybe our mayor is a fan.”

“The what?” Consuelo asked. “Because of the book?”

Larissa patted her arm. “The movie. Remember from a few years back? It was a big deal. They filmed it there and I guess they left the sets in place. You can tour it all. See the hobbit village.”

Consuelo shook her head. “No way our mayor is going all the way to New Zealand to look at a bunch of fake hobbit houses. Maybe she’s going to watch Kipling Gilmore ski.”

Dellina stared at her. “You know where he’s skiing right now?”

Consuelo lifted a shoulder. “I read it in Sports Illustrated the other day. He’s there for summer skiing. Which they don’t call it there, because it’s their winter.”

“Someone has a bit of a crush,” Dellina murmured.

Consuelo’s lips twitched. “I like watching him. You were looking, too, during the Olympics.”

“I have to say I’m more comfortable with the idea of our mayor being a ski groupie than looking at hobbit houses on her vacation,” Taryn announced. “Which is, on the surface, kind of strange. I’m going to have to think on that.” She turned to Dellina. “Speaking of fun things like vacations and handsome men, are you torturing Sam about the party?”

Dellina laughed. “Which category does that question fall into?” She held up her hand. “Never mind. I don’t want to know. For the record, I’m only working with him. There’s no torture. It’s all very professional.”

A little too professional, Dellina thought. Because he was one good-looking guy. Nice, too. Quiet, but she liked that about him. Flashy didn’t suit her—not that Sam was making any offers.

Jo came by and took their orders. When she left, Dellina helped Bailey set the plant on a chair in the corner.

“Rakisha said her niece and grand-niece were coming to help with the business,” Dellina said as they returned to the table.

“Who?” Consuelo asked.

“The owner of Plants for the Planet,” Taryn said. “I’ve met her. She’s got to be a hundred and three.”

“Not that old, but probably into her eighties,” Dellina told them. “We were all afraid she would be selling the business.” There had been a scandal a few years back, she thought. Something about a man. But she didn’t mention that to her friends. No need to spread rumors.

“I’m glad she has family to help out,” Larissa said. “I love how the businesses are run in Fool’s Gold. I’d hate to see any of them go corporate.”

“The good of the many over the profits of the few,” Taryn murmured. “How I adore your tree-hugging nature.”

Larissa grinned. “Mock me all you want. I have a thousand causes I can talk about.”

“Yes,” Taryn said. “And all supported by Jack. The things that man does for you. It defies logic.”

Lunch passed quickly. There was plenty of conversation and laughter. Dellina walked out with Taryn, who stopped her on the sidewalk.

“The party is really moving forward?” Taryn asked. “While I like to torture Sam for sport, the truth is we all want to please our clients. So if you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks, but it’s coming together really well. So far the only stumbling block is the evening lecture. I can’t find the right topic or person. What are both men and women interested in?”

Taryn raised her eyebrows. “Is that a real question?”

Dellina laughed. “I can’t hire someone to talk about sex.”

“I don’t see why not. You’d have everyone’s attention.” An SUV pulled up at the curb. Taryn waved at the driver. “That’s my ride.”

Because Angel had come to pick her up, Dellina thought, glancing at her friend’s five-inch heels. No way anyone could walk across town in those.

Love, she thought as she strolled toward the center of town. It did crazy things to people. She had neither a man nor five-inch heels. Not that she wanted the latter. Or had time for the former. Serious relationships weren’t on her to-do list. But a couple of nights with a certain former NFL kicker would be nice.

Dellina walked past Brew-haha. She thought briefly about popping inside and getting coffee, but then was seduced by the thought of a piece of fudge. On her way, she could check out what was new at Morgan’s Books. If she couldn’t have sex with the guy she wanted, she could buy a romance and read about someone else doing it with an equally hunky guy—however fictional he might be.

She turned left on Frank Lane. At The Christmas Attic, she paused to wave to Noelle, who was behind the counter, helping a couple of tourists. Her friend waved back. Dellina continued to Morgan’s Books, only to come to a stop in front of the display.

“It can’t be that easy,” she murmured, every fiber of her being hoping it could be just that simple.

In the front window was a display for an upcoming book signing. Lark Heuston, a New York Times bestselling author, was going to be signing at Morgan’s store the Thursday before the Score party. Which meant she would be in town. Just as exciting was the title of her new book. Using Tantric Sex to Strengthen Your Marriage. Talk about an unexpected gift. Because Taryn was right. Sex was the one thing men and women could agree upon, she thought happily.

The subject matter was appealing and informational, she thought as she headed for the door and stepped into the store. All she had to do was get the contact information from Morgan and then call Ms. Heuston to see if she would like to spend a couple of extra days in Fool’s Gold and give an easy ninety-minute lecture. Maybe they could even set up a book signing. Authors liked that sort of thing, didn’t they?

Dellina practically bounced with excitement as she hurried toward Morgan and began to explain what she needed.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE GOLD RUSH Ski Lodge and Resort had a ridiculously long name but an amazing location. It was located only a few miles from the town, but most of that distance was straight up—putting the resort’s ski slopes well above four thousand feet. While Fool’s Gold itself generally only saw thirty or forty inches of snow a year, the ski slopes saw on average ten times that amount.

Dellina parked and got out of her car. She was meeting Sam here so they could go over logistics. Everything from the menu at Henri’s—the resort’s five-star restaurant—to various accommodations. Both were equally important. But while she could totally get into food sampling, she was less sure about looking at bedrooms with Sam. Because the last time they’d been in a hotel together had been Valentine’s Day and look how that had ended.

Dellina walked toward the hotel. She’d always been a big believer in telling the truth—at least to herself. If Sam was offering, she would be mighty tempted to say yes. So it was probably good that he wasn’t.

She saw a sleek black Mercedes convertible by the valet station and had a feeling that meant Sam was already here. She had used the regular self-park lot, like a normal person. She was still smiling at the comparison when she walked into the resort.

The Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort was part Victorian mansion, part chalet. There was wood everywhere, high ceilings and lots of attentive staff. The place would make a good impression on the most discerning of clients, she thought as she headed toward the tall dark-haired man standing by a window.

Even from the back, Sam was impressive. He had broad shoulders and long legs. He stood with an easy grace—still and yet poised for movement. Probably the result of all that athletic training. His suit pants had been tailored by an expert and showed off his narrow hips and muscular butt before falling in a straight line over his thighs.

He must have left his suit jacket in his car because he didn’t have it with him. He’d rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and she figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he had on a tie.