When We Met (3 page)

“CDS,” a man's voice said.

“Justice Garrett, please.”

“Speaking.”

“Hi, Justice, I'm Taryn Crawford. I know your wife. I'm a partner at Score, here in town.”

“Right. Patience has mentioned you. The PR firm with the football players.”

“That's us.” This was stupid. She felt like a mom trying to set up a playdate for her socially awkward child. Except despite her grumbling about the move, she really did want the guys to be happy. They might annoy her from time to time, but they were all the family she was ever likely to have.

“You have ex-military guys employed there,” she began. “They like to work out and stuff?”

There was a pause. Taryn could present a multimillion-dollar PR presentation to the most uptight skeptic with no problem. Why was this so hard?

“Was that a question?” Justice asked.

“No. Okay, so you know about Jack, Kenny and Sam, right? Former football players. They're still competitive and...” She told herself to get to the point. “The guys have a new outdoor basketball court. They play a few mornings a week. I thought you and your guys might like to join them.”

There was another pause, then Justice chuckled. “My guys and I would like that very much. I hope yours aren't sore losers.”

Taryn grinned. “Nice try. Your team is so going down.”

“We'll see about that. What time do they start?”

“Six. Day after tomorrow.”

“We'll be there.”

She hung up, feeling more than a little proud of herself. She logged in to the company's remote data storage and downloaded the work she'd done the previous night, then updated several accounts.

At nine, she met with her graphics and design people. Her team of six was the heart of the organization. All presentations came out of that office, including graphic design, layout and videos for sample commercials and promotional spots.

There was also Sam's staff of two accountants who ran all the numbers; Taryn's assistant who doubled as the office manager; Larissa, Jack's personal assistant and the boys' private masseuse; along with Kenny and Sam's assistant.

When Kenny, Jack and Sam had first come to her about moving to Fool's Gold, she'd warned them that they would lose valuable staff. One of the few times in her life when she'd been wrong when it came to business, she thought. Everyone had been excited about relocating. Taryn had been the lone holdout.

Who could have guessed that carefully selecting family-oriented, well-adjusted employees would come back to bite her in the butt? she thought with a grin.

Her assistant stepped into her office. “They're ready for you.”

Taryn followed her into the smaller conference room. Sam, Jack and Kenny were there, freshly showered after their morning game—because part of the remodeling had included putting in a locker room. Make that two, because while Taryn never planned to bathe at work, she'd insisted on equal facilities for the women. So they, too, had large showers, lockers and a steam room. The difference was she never insisted on holding meetings in the steam room, while the boys had on more than one occasion.

Now she walked to the far end of the table and opened the laptop there. Then her gaze settled on Jack, who had chosen not to dress after his shower. He sat at the conference table in a white robe and flip-flops.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Larissa is here.”

“She's warming up the massage table as we speak.”

“Tell me you're wearing underwear,” she said.

Jack winked.

“My team's been working on several campaigns,” she said as she typed on the laptop. Through the company's internal network, she could access her computer files remotely and pull up any necessary information.

“Here's what we came up with for the Klassique Rum campaign. We'll have the sample commercial ready by the end of the week, but in the meantime, here are our thoughts for print ads and the Facebook campaigns.”

She touched her computer keyboard, and a slide appeared on the large screen at the opposite end of the room. “We pulled colors from their new labels. Obviously rum means parties and fun.”

“Beach parties,” Kenny corrected, then grinned at Jack. “That was a hell of a weekend.”

The two of them had visited Klassique's headquarters in the Caribbean. While Taryn had been invited, she'd passed. Watching Kenny and Jack in action with dozens of nubile, willing women wasn't her idea of a good time.

The speakerphone in the center of the table buzzed.

“Jack, Larissa's ready,” Taryn's assistant said.

Jack was already up and moving. “See you later,” he called.

“I really hope he keeps his robe on until he gets into the massage room,” Taryn murmured.

“Me, too,” Sam told her. “Because he's not wearing any underwear.”

Fortunately their employees were good-natured about the idiosyncrasies of working for former jocks, but every now and then Taryn had to field a complaint about too much male nudity.

Usually from the spouse of one of the female employees.

Taryn turned her attention back to the campaign. She went through it slide by slide. Kenny had several insights from the client's perspective, while Sam tallied costs. Two hours later, when they had nearly finished, Jack walked back into the room.

He'd dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. But more than that, Taryn noticed how much more easily he moved. He sat next to Kenny.

“She says to give her fifteen minutes to relax her hands, and then she'll be ready for you,” Jack said.

Kenny nodded.

Taryn glanced at Sam. “You okay waiting?”

“Sure.”

As a kicker, Sam had been beat up the least. The other two joked he had the easiest job in the game. Taryn knew differently. While she normally wouldn't have ever bothered learning anything about the sport, her partnership meant she had to know more than the basics when it came to football. The kicker might not take the hits the other players did, but he worked under incredible pressure. Every second on the field meant being at the very center of everyone's attention, often with games hanging in the balance. The NFL was a multibillion-dollar industry, and if you couldn't handle the intense scrutiny, you weren't going to last very long.

“What did I miss?” Jack asked.

“I'll fill you in later,” Kenny told him.

Taryn glanced down the list of what she'd wanted to cover. “I think we're nearly through everything. Sam, are you ready to update us on the party?”

She did her best to ask the question without any annoyance in her voice. Because after moving the entire company to Fool's Gold, the boys had decided to entertain their largest clients with a big weekend party. They'd rented out a part of the Gold Rush Ski Lodge and Resort for a long weekend of the Summer Festival—whatever that was. Now about twenty clients, their spouses and assorted children were going to show up and expect to be entertained.

Sam cleared his throat. “Sure,” he began. “We're having the clients in, as we discussed. In July.”

“During the Summer Festival, right?” Kenny asked.

Taryn turned to him. “You know about the festivals?”

“Sure. It's one of the reasons we wanted to move here. The town has festivals every month, to celebrate the seasons and different holidays.” He nudged Jack. “There's a balloon festival in June. We should get one and go up.”

“I'm in,” Jack said easily. “I get to drive.”

“You don't drive a balloon,” Kenny told him.

“Whatever. I'm in charge.”

“Great,” Taryn said. “So you're sure to crash or burst into flames. Sam, please make sure our key-man insurance policy is paid up.”

Jack gave her a lazy smile. “You'd miss me, darlin'.”

“That I would and then I'd move on with my life.” She turned back to Sam. “About the party,” she said again. “Where are we?”

“In the planning stages.”

She waited but Sam didn't say any more. “It's just over three months away. You have to get going.”

“I am.”

This wasn't like Sam, she thought. Normally he was on top of things. “Do you have any details? You know we have to make sure our clients have a good time, right? And they're bringing their families, which ups the pressure. You three are the ones who wanted to move here in the first place. You're the ones who insisted on this party. Don't come to me a week before and say there's a problem, because I'm not going to fix this.”

“There she goes,” Kenny said conversationally. “Sam, you've riled Taryn, and no good comes of that. Back where I come from—”

Taryn slapped both hands on the conference table. “Do
not
tell me some good-ol'-boy farm story, Kenneth Anderson Scott. You may want the world to think you're just some down-home guy from Iowa, but I know better.”

Kenny glanced at his watch. “Look at the time. Larissa should be ready for me now.”

He nearly ran from the room. Jack watched him go.

“That wasn't nice, Taryn. You know Kenny hates it when you use his whole name. It reminds him of being yelled at by his mom.”

“Yes, and that's why I do it.” She returned her attention to Sam. “About the party.”

“It's handled,” he told her.

Exactly what she wanted to hear. So why didn't she believe him? “You're sure.”

“Very.”

She nodded and Sam ducked out of the room. Jack stayed in his seat.

“Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No.”

“You're a little crabby.”

She pressed her lips together. “It's not like you guys make it easy.”

He stood and circled around the table until he was next to her. Then he pulled her close and hugged her. She relaxed in his familiar embrace. His large hands rested on her back and she breathed in the scent of him.

When they'd first met, Jack was the star quarterback of the L.A. Stallions and she was the newly hired PR assistant. She'd never expected their night together to lead to anything more. But one night had turned into two, then a week.

When everything fell apart, they'd stayed friends. She loved Kenny and Sam, but Jack was the one who knew her best. A point he proved when he said, “Still not sure you're going to like it here?”

“It's different. People are nice.”

“Damn them.”

She smiled into his shoulder, then stepped back. “I'm not like you.”

“That's true.” His dark eyes crinkled with amusement. “You'd look funny with my penis.”

“I'd have it removed.”

He winced. “Don't even joke about that.” He kissed her forehead. “We're going to be here awhile, Taryn. Relax. Make nice with the ladies in town. Go to lunch and give them a chance to prove they mean what they say.”

“They really want me to have a nice day?”

“They do. Let them get to know you while you get to know them. Make friends. It's fun.”

“Maybe,” she grumbled.

“That's my girl. Always willing to try new things.” He put his arm around her and led her from the room. “Come on. I'll buy you some lunch. I'll order the fries.”

Because if she didn't order the food, the calories didn't count, she thought, leaning into him. “You're the best,” she told him.

“Yeah, I know. My greatness has always been a burden.”

CHAPTER THREE

“T
HIS
CAME
FOR
YOU
.”

Taryn glanced up as Larissa walked into her office. She was carrying what looked like a very exotic orchid. One that Taryn had never seen before.

“It's beautiful,” she murmured, reaching for the plant.

Larissa grinned. “There's a card.”

Taryn touched the soft petals of the flower. The colors were unusual, she thought. Pink and a blue violet. “What does it say?”

“I haven't read it.”

Taryn put the plant on her desk, then looked at her friend. “Of course you have.”

Larissa laughed. “There's just a place and a time. It's for tonight.”

She took the card and studied it. Sure enough, Condor Valley Winery, 7:00 p.m., was written in bold black pen.

An invitation or instructions, she thought, intrigued by the assumption. What if she couldn't make it?

“Are you going?” Larissa asked.

“I don't know.”

Larissa sat in the chair next to the desk. “You have to. You said he's really sexy.”

“I don't remember saying that.”

“Okay, you thought it. Same thing.” She put a small brochure on the desk. “There are instructions that go with your new plant. Apparently it's very rare and delicate.”

“You could take it on as a cause,” Taryn told her.

“I could, but you got there first.” She leaned in. “So, what do you know about Angel? Other than he got you a really unusual flower.”

“He's with the bodyguard school, he's a former sniper, he was married.”

“That's right. He's the widower. Any kids?”

“I don't know. None in town.”

“Why do you like him?”

“I'm not sure I do.”

Larissa shook her head. “Fine. Why are you interested in him? I think he's kind of scary.”

Taryn thought about all the easy answers. That he was attractive and sexy. That he'd made the first move. That she was pretty sure there was chemistry. That Jack was right and she needed to put herself out there. Although Jack had been talking about making girlfriends rather than taking a lover, but still.

“He doesn't need me to take care of him,” she said at last, speaking the absolute truth.

“Unlike the boys.” Larissa nodded. “That makes sense. It's just I've always sort of pictured you with a banker.”

“Another man in a suit? No, thanks. Been there, done that over and over again.”

She didn't want someone like her. She didn't want someone from her world. Angel was different in every way possible. When he looked at her with those cool gray eyes, she had no idea what he was thinking. That was kind of fun. She just hoped it didn't mean he was a serial killer.

“I guess it's okay,” Larissa said slowly. “Everybody in town seems to like him, so he must be a nice guy.”

“Tell me you haven't been asking about him.”

“Just a little.”

Taryn held in a groan at the thought of her personal life being discussed.

“I was discreet,” Larissa protested.

“Uh-huh. Is there anyone you won't talk to?”

“No, and that's why you love me.”

* * *

T
ARYN
LEFT
WORK
early so she would have time to get ready for her date with Angel. She drove the short distance to her house and parked in the single-car garage.

Usually she preferred condo living—less maintenance for her—but when the company had relocated to Fool's Gold, she'd decided to try a house.

The place was small—only two bedrooms, but they were both a nice size. The house had been remodeled pretty much from the ground up, so she had a new kitchen and a nice walk-in shower in the bathroom. Surprisingly, the feature that most appealed to her was the garden. An old-fashioned stone fence surrounded the backyard. There was a patio and several raised plant beds. She'd never grown anything before in her life, but she'd started doing some research and was thinking of planting some flowers and a few vegetables.

Now Taryn walked through the kitchen. She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot down the hallway and into the master. Although the house had been updated, most of the Craftsman touches had been left in place, including the built-in bookcase by the stone fireplace across from her bed. The fence out back was high enough that she didn't have to pull her drapes for privacy, which allowed a lot of light into the room. She shrugged out of her jacket, then unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the carpet. She removed her blouse, then put on a robe and walked into the bathroom.

She wore her black hair long and loose. Minimal daily products, plenty of conditioner and weekly scalp treatments kept her hair in decent shape. She'd been pleasantly surprised to discover that she could get her favorite hair gloss applied every six weeks here, just as she had done back in L.A.

She pulled her hair back in a cloth headband and washed her face. Then she reapplied her makeup, paying close attention to her eyes. She was going to be wearing black, so she wanted to emphasize her eye shape and color. When she was done with that, she applied a faint shimmering body lotion to her chest, shoulders, arms and legs.

After penciling in a nearly nude lip color, she returned to her bedroom and stepped into the closet. She already knew what she was going to wear—she'd made her decision as soon as she'd seen the invitation. If Angel wanted to play games, she was willing to play them with him. But she was equally determined that she would be the winner.

To that end, she removed her bra and then stepped into the strapless black dress she'd chosen. From the front, it was simple—fitted and nearly to the knee. But in the back it dipped to hip level. Every time she moved, the fabric shifted as if the viewer were going to see something he shouldn't. A killer dress, she thought with a smile. Perfect for a former sniper.

The best part was she would pair the dress with a classic black blazer. With the jacket, the outfit was conservative enough for work. But without...

She studied her shoes and chose a pair of Dolce & Gabbana lace pumps with four-inch heels. She wasn't usually a lace-and-bow kind of woman, but these were both sexy and sophisticated. Of course they were D&G, so it wasn't as though she could actually go wrong.

She stepped into the shoes and then studied herself in the mirror. Jewelry should be simple, she thought, and went with diamond studs that Jack had given her when their divorce was final.

She transferred the items she would need for that night to a black silk clutch, then headed out the door.

Condor Valley Winery was set in the foothills, just above the vineyards. Although the sign in the parking lot said they closed at five this time of year, she parked by the main doors and walked up the paved path. She had no doubt that Angel would have made special arrangements. He was a man used to getting his way and he wouldn't let a little thing like regular business hours deter him.

Sure enough a woman in her earlier twenties was waiting inside. She smiled. “Ms. Crawford?”

“Yes.”

“If you'll follow me, please.”

The woman led Taryn to a small elevator that whisked them to the third floor. From there they went into what looked like a private library—a room filled with built-in bookcases and comfortable, black leather furniture. Double doors stood open and led to a large balcony with a bistro table and two chairs. From where she stood, Taryn could see the whole valley and the sun just beginning to set. Any chill was chased away by the portable heaters set up around the table.

“Let me get your appetizers,” the woman said, and excused herself.

A minute or so later she was back with two plates of small bites. Once she placed them on the table, she returned to the library and collected a bottle of red wine and two glasses. She expertly opened the wine but didn't pour, then smiled at Taryn and left.

Taryn stepped out onto the balcony and breathed in the night air. Anticipation settled low in her belly, but there was also a kind of quiet comfort. It had been a long time since a man had taken care of her this way. Or maybe the fault was hers—maybe it had been too long since she'd
let
someone take care of her.

“Good evening.”

She turned and saw Angel standing in the doorway. He looked tall and broad—imposing in a black shirt and black pants.

“Hello,” she said, staying where she was, wanting him to come to her.

He didn't disappoint. He closed the space between them and took her hands in his. “You came.”

“You're not surprised.”

One eyebrow rose. “Maybe I am.”

She laughed. “I doubt that. Thank you for my orchid. It's very beautiful.”

“It reminded me of you.”

His hands were warm, his grip gentle. He didn't try to pull her close or make her feel as if he wouldn't let go. A clever strategy because she found herself wanting to step nearer.

In her four-inch heels, she was nearly his height, so contortions would not be required if they were to kiss. She could just ease forward and find out if the faint heat sweeping through her was all about possibilities or if there was reality to the quivering.

Or not, she thought as she carefully took a single step back.

He released her instantly, then gestured to the chairs by the table. “Shall we?”

When they were seated, Angel poured them each a glass of wine. “This Cab is from their library collection. Aged longer than most of the wine they sell. It's smooth, with a surprising finish.”

She hung her bag over the handle of her chair, then reached for the glass. “Why do I get the idea you're talking about more than the wine? Although I'm not comfortable being described as
aged.
”

“Maybe I wasn't talking about you,” he said, his gray eyes settling on her face.

“Yourself, then.” She tilted her head. “Yes, I can see that. Although I have some concerns about the surprising finish. What does that mean? A little squeak? A fist pump? Should I be worried?”

He chuckled, then touched his glass to hers. “Thank you for joining me tonight.”

“Thank you for asking me.”

She took a sip. The Cab was smooth, but there was still a hint of tannins at the end. Plenty of berry flavor, without it being overpowering.

“Why did you come to Fool's Gold?” she asked.

“Justice moved the company here.”

“Was that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“I like small towns. I grew up in one.” He turned his attention to the view. “You're not from a small town.”

A statement or a question, she wondered. “No, I'm an L.A. girl at heart. Moving to Fool's Gold has been a transition.”

“Then why not keep the company in la-la land?”

“I was outvoted. Jack, Kenny and Sam came here for a Pro-Am golf tournament. I'm still not clear on what happened that weekend, but when they returned to work on the following Monday, they announced we were moving.” She sipped her wine again. “Score is a democracy and I was in the minority. Of course they left all the details of moving up to me.”

“Naturally.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“West Virginia.” He glanced at her and smiled. “A place you've never heard of. Coal mining town.”

“I've never been in one,” she admitted.

“There's good and bad. A lot of poverty with one large employer. The work is hard. My mom died when I was born, so it was my dad and me. I watched him come out of that coal mine day after day and swore I was going to get out.”

“Which you did.”

“I went into the military. When I left, I got involved with a security company doing about the same kind of work without so many rules.”

She wasn't sure what that meant. Black ops stuff? Which, like the coal mining town, was more concept than reality to her.

“I'm sorry about your mom,” she said.

“Thanks. I never knew her.” His mouth curved up again. “The women on our block decided they were going to take her place. They were always looking out for me. It was like having twelve moms instead of one. Let me tell you, it was tough to be bad.”

She laughed. “Which you wanted to be.”

His gaze locked with hers. “Nearly all the time. But I learned patience. There were still opportunities, but I had to work for them.”

A message? She held in a shiver and reminded herself he was good. Better than she was used to.

“What about you?” he asked. “Suburbs? Two-point-four siblings and a white picket fence?”

An easy question for most, she thought, the need to shiver fading as if it had never happened. Tension crept through her, but she ignored the tightening in her shoulders as she tried to calculate how much to tell. And how to tell it such that he didn't know she was lying.

“It was my dad and me, just like you,” she said, confident their situations couldn't have been more different. “My mom left when I was young.”

“That's rough.”

She shrugged because the truth—that her mother had walked away from her only child, as well as her husband—was bad enough. Worse was the fact that the man had regularly beaten them both and with his wife gone, he'd only had one place to turn.

“It was L.A.,” she said lightly. “I had distractions. And now we're both here. The people are very welcoming, if a little too involved in each other's lives.”

“The disadvantage of a small town. There aren't a lot of secrets.”

She relaxed as he accepted the change in topic. Every new relationship had to navigate through that rocky space. The exchange of past information. It was done and they would move on.

“How does that work for you?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You're a man of secrets.”

He laughed. “Less than you would think. I go to work, hang out with my friends.” Humor warmed his eyes. “I do live with a woman.”