When We Met

Her boys, she thought as they bickered. They were responsible for her move to Fool’s Gold—something she wasn’t sure she was willing to forgive just yet. The town wasn’t as bad as she’d first thought, but it sure wasn’t L.A. She loved L.A.

“So I’ll be in charge?” Jack asked with a grin.

“Your mama,” Kenny told him.

“Don’t break anything,” Taryn said as she collected her papers and started for the door. Because whenever she heard “your mama,” body blows were sure to follow.

Sam went with her. “Not going to try to stop them?” he asked cheerfully as they stepped into the hallway.

“That would be your job.”

Something hit the wall with a thud. Sam kept walking. “No, thanks.”

“The three of you are never going to grow up, are you?” she asked.

“I’m not the one fighting.”

She glanced at him. “Not this time.”

He gave her a wink, then sauntered away. Taryn continued to her office. In the distance, she heard a crash. She ignored it and checked her schedule for the day. She had a conference call at eleven and Graphics had asked for a few minutes.

“Thanks,” Taryn said as she sat at her desk. She glanced at her computer. “Just another day in paradise.” And she loved every minute of it.

The boys were her family, and no matter how many chairs, tables, windows and hearts they broke, she would stand by them. Even if every now and then she fantasized about how much more serene her life would be if she’d gone into business with a couple of pacifist guys who believed in the power of meditation for conflict resolution.

Somewhere in the distance, glass shattered. Taryn continued to look at her computer screen as she kept on typing.

CHAPTER TWO

TARYN STACKED DISHES on the narrow counter. The kitchen was tiny. A miniature galley-style, with a three-quarter-sized stove and refrigerator. The colors were nice and the appliances updated, but still there wasn’t actually room for two people.

“Explain this to me,” she said, unwrapping glasses and setting them next to the plates. “I sign the paychecks. I happen to know you could afford a bigger place.”

Larissa Owens lifted a pot out of the box she’d put on the table. She’d pulled her long blond hair back into a ponytail and didn’t wear a speck of makeup. She was lithe and tan and looked amazing in yoga pants and a T-shirt. If Taryn didn’t already adore her, Larissa could be easy to hate.

“I don’t need a bigger place,” her friend told her. “A small one-bedroom is plenty. The rent is really cheap so I’ll have more money for my causes.”

Which was exactly what would happen, Taryn thought, picking up scissors and flipping the empty box so she could cut across the tape and then flatten it. Larissa was a giant bleeding heart when it came to causes, especially if there were animals involved. In addition to her full-time job, she volunteered at a couple of shelters, fostered dogs, cats and bunnies and sent money to nearly every organization that asked.

Taryn glanced around at the maybe six-hundred-square-foot apartment. “You won’t be getting a pet bigger than a goldfish in here.”

“I could get a cat,” Larissa told her cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want a dog. I’m not home enough. Besides, if I need something bigger—”

“There’s always Jack’s place,” Taryn said, finishing the sentence. “Yes, I know.”

Jack, who let Larissa use him to support those organizations near and dear to her. Taryn had never been able to figure out why, but the situation worked for them. As a former NFL quarterback, Jack was expected to throw his weight behind some kind of charity. As he’d lost a twin with a heart condition back when they were both kids, he’d chosen to get involved with kids needing organ transplants. Or rather, Jack wrote the check for housing, transportation, whatever, and Larissa took care of staying in touch.

“He misses you desperately,” Taryn told her.

“I’ve been hearing that in his incessant voice mails.” Larissa wrinkled her nose. “He misses my massages. It’s not exactly the same thing.”

“You’re also his assistant. I’m sure he misses you getting him coffee.”

Larissa grinned. “That, too.” She reached for the scissors and flattened her box. “So, the town. I thought you were kidding when you described it to me.”

“Would that I were,” Taryn told her. “But, no. It’s charming and clean and the people are overly friendly.”

“I like it,” Larissa said as she handed Taryn another box, then got one for herself. “I feel like I’ve already made friends. The lady who owns that cute coffee shop paid for my coffee this morning. That was really nice.”

“Patience,” Taryn grumbled. “Her name is Patience. Yes, she’s lovely. They’re all lovely. Except for Charlie, who’s a firefighter and crabby. I like her a lot.”

Actually she liked everyone she’d met, which was kind of annoying. What if all the niceness wore off on her? What if she started smiling at random strangers and saying cheerful things like “Have a nice day”? She shuddered. Being sarcastic and emotionally distant had always served her well. Why mess with success?

“Are the guys settling in?” Larissa asked.

“I guess. You know I try to avoid talking about their personal lives with them whenever possible, so my information may not be totally accurate. But as far as I know, Jack and Kenny seem bimbo-free for the moment, and Sam, well...” She grinned. “Poor Sam.”

Larissa pressed her lips together. “We shouldn’t make fun of him.”

“Why not? It’s not like he can hear us.”

“But it’s so sad.”

It kind of was, Taryn thought, but it was also really, really funny. Sam Ridge, all-star kicker and multimillionaire, had the worst luck when it came to women. If there was a femme fatale in a fifty-mile radius, Sam found her and fell for her. He’d experienced everything from a stalker to an ex-wife writing a near tell-all to having his girlfriend sleep with his best friends.

“I’m waiting for him to fall for a transvestite,” Larissa said with a grin. “Poor Sam.”

“I don’t get it,” Taryn admitted. “He’s smart and insightful. But when it comes to women, he can’t seem to find anyone normal.”

“What about you?” Larissa asked, her tone teasing. “Met anyone tempting?”

The question was meant as a joke. Taryn knew that. She rarely dated. She liked guys, she slept with them, but she didn’t get involved. There was no way she was trusting her heart or any part of her psyche to some man. Talk about stupid.

Except when Larissa asked her question, Taryn immediately thought about Angel. And thinking about Angel meant she wasn’t thinking about anything else and she couldn’t seem to make her mouth move to form the words What? A guy? With me? No way.

Larissa put down the frying pan she’d just unwrapped and stared at her friend. “Oh my God. What? You met someone? Who is he? Tell me everything.” Her big blue eyes widened. “Is he local? Like a single dad.” She sighed. “That would be so romantic. Some sweet guy with a couple of little kids. Like a car mechanic or maybe he owns a little grocery store and they live upstairs. He still misses his wife, but he’s ready to move on. Only I don’t know how you’re going to feel about the kids.”

Taryn stared at her. “You don’t need me here for this conversation, do you? A widower with two kids and a grocery store? That is not happening.”

Larissa’s shoulders slumped. “Why don’t you like him? He’s so nice.”

Taryn held in a scream. “There is no grocery store guy. You made him up. What’s wrong with you? Jeez. The only guy I’m interested in is a former black ops sniper with a scar like somebody slit his throat.”

Larissa handed her the frying pan. “I’d rather date the guy who owns the grocery store.”

“The one who isn’t real?”

“You always focus on the wrong stuff. So tell me about Sniper Man.”