When We Met (9 page)

He looked at her for a second, then nodded. “Climbing isn't your sport.” He reached for the clip on her harness.

She stepped back. “No. I'm going to do it again.”

“Taryn, you fell.”

“I know. Now I have to get to the top of the stupid thing. Then I'm never coming back.” She glanced at the guy holding her line. “No offense.”

“None taken.”

* * *

A
NGEL
REMEMBERED
THE
first time he'd seen Taryn. She'd been in one of her suits and ridiculous high heels. She'd been crossing the street, not in a crosswalk. With her confident stride, long dark hair and steady gaze, she'd captured the attention of every man who could see her. He'd half expected one of those movie car crashes because when Taryn was around it was difficult to see anything else.

She ran a successful business, so he knew she had a brain, but until this morning, he hadn't realized she had a spine made of steel. Because despite the fall, she'd gotten back on the rock wall and made her way to the top. It hadn't been fast or elegant, but she'd made it. When she'd reached the floor again, she'd unfastened the harness, stepped out of the straps, walked over to a nearby trash can and promptly thrown up.

She had the heart of a warrior, he thought as he pulled up in front of her house. She did the job and handled the fear later.

He parked his Harley and walked toward her door. They'd agreed to go to the Spring Festival after they'd both gone home and changed clothes.

The front door opened and Taryn stepped out. She'd replaced her skintight workout clothes with skintight jeans. Nice, he thought, wishing she would turn around so he could look at her ass. Studying the curves had a way of anchoring him in a very good place.

She had on some kind of sweater set. The bottom piece was tight enough to be interesting, but not so tight that she couldn't fit in with the families that would be flooding downtown. He glanced down and saw that for once, she'd put on boots with only a two-inch heel.

She followed his gaze and raised her eyebrows. “Making sure I'm able to walk long distances?”

“Didn't know if you expected to be carried.”

“I understand the concept of the festivals,” she told him, checking to make sure the door was locked then joining him on the walkway. “I've been to several. I bid on casseroles at the Great Casserole Cook-off in February.”

“Did you win?”

She tilted her head. “Seriously? You have to ask?”

“Apparently not. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I had a couple of crackers and sparkling water. I'm better.” Her mouth twisted. “Is this the awkward part of the conversation where I point out I brushed my teeth when I got home?” She looked away. “I can't believe I threw up. Or fell. Or any of it.”

“You thought you were going to crash into the floor. You reacted. We've all done it.”

“Fall off a fake mountainside? I don't think so.”

“It's not the mistake,” he told her, reaching for her hand. “It's what you do once you realize you've screwed up. You got back on the horse. Or in this case, the mountain.”

She started to pull her hand away, then paused and looked at him. He sensed she was about to make a decision. He wanted her to choose him. After what felt like a lifetime, she relaxed and laced her fingers with his.

“I feel like a prize idiot.”

“That's the best kind of idiot to be.”

They reached the sidewalk and he turned them toward town.

“The first time I met Marie, she was pulled off at the side of the road and changing a flat tire.” He paused, remembering the moment and smiling. “I take that back. Two guys had stopped to help or maybe try to pick her up. Either way, they were talking to her and she wasn't looking too happy about it.”

“Competition,” Taryn murmured. “Let me guess. You ignored them and changed the tire while they attempted to charm her.”

“You got it,” he said, surprised she had guessed. Although he shouldn't be. Taryn saw things others didn't. “When I was done, Marie told the other two to get lost. She was only interested in a man who took care of things, not ones who just talked about it.”

He stopped, startled at the turn of conversation. He never talked about Marie and certainly wouldn't with a woman. Yet here he was, spilling his emotional guts.

Way to get laid,
he grumbled silently. Because talking about his late wife was sure to get Taryn hot.

But he'd already plunged into this particular ocean. He was going to have to swim for shore.

“She was tough,” he continued. “Confident, but with a soft side. You remind me a lot of her.”

She glanced at him. “Thank you. I know how you felt about her, so it's a compliment.”

He nodded, pleased that she understood where he was coming from.

They reached the center of town. The parade was over but there were booths set up all over.

“This was my first festival,” he told her. “When I got here last year. Shocked the hell out of me.”

“I'll bet. And now look at you. An FWM Grove Keeper.”

“Yeah, I still haven't figured out how that happened.”

“You volunteered.”

Taryn smiled at a couple of people she knew and called out a greeting to a third. She felt ridiculously exposed, walking around with Angel, holding his hand. She wanted to pull away, to put distance between them. But she didn't—mostly because in a weird, twisted way, it felt good to be just like everyone else. Even if it was only for an afternoon.

They stopped by a booth with a display of dried and silk flowers. “You could get a bouquet for your dining room table,” he told her.

She rolled her eyes. “Really?”

He grinned. “No. You're not the flower type. You're more edgy. Maybe just the stems in a statement on modern minimalism.”

“I'm surprised you know what minimalism is, modern or otherwise.”

He flashed her a smile. “I don't. I was faking it.”

They walked by the park. Angel bought her some fudge that was delicious enough to be worth the extra time she would have to spend on the elliptical. They browsed the latest bestsellers in Morgan's Books, then headed for Brew-haha.

But before they reached the coffee shop, Angel pulled her across the street toward the park. He circled around kids playing and families sitting on blankets in the late-afternoon sun.

She thought about asking where they were going but decided she didn't care. Not really. Something had happened to her today. She supposed it was the fact that she'd pretty much been at her worst and he hadn't blinked. She wasn't ready to say she would trust him with her life, but she knew things had shifted between them. He knew it, too. Telling her more about Marie proved that.

She wasn't completely surprised when he pulled her to a stop by a large tree that offered privacy from everyone around them. She stepped into his embrace easily, wanting to feel his arms around her. Wanting his mouth on hers and his body providing warmth and support.

He didn't disappoint. The second they were sheltered from staring eyes, he pressed his lips to hers. But this wasn't like the previous kiss. There was no gentleness, no polite introduction. He kissed hard and hot, claiming her with his mouth. She parted and he swept his tongue inside. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into him, wanting to feel his hard body against hers.

He was all muscle—nothing about him yielded. She accepted that just as she accepted the deep, passionate strokes as he kissed her. She accepted and then moved in tandem, needing him to feel what she felt.

Wanting began in her belly and spiraled out in all directions. It heated and melted and made her want to climb inside him. What would he be like in bed? She was tired of polite men who asked too many questions. She didn't want to have to say what she would like this time or rate how good something felt. She wasn't looking to be dominated; she just wanted to be...taken.

He drew back and looked into her eyes. “I want you,” he breathed. “Naked, wet and screaming my name.”

Taryn's throat went dry. “That would be nice.”

One eyebrow rose. “But not yet.”

“What?” she gasped before she could stop herself. Obviously they wouldn't do it in the park, but...what?

He winked. The bastard actually winked. “I told you I was good at waiting.”

Then it occurred to her that she had gotten exactly what she'd asked for. A man willing to play by her rules, damn him. Not knowing what else to do, she started to laugh. Angel chuckled with her, and then they walked back to the festival.

“I need a drink,” she told him.

“Me, too, dollface. Me, too.”

* * *

T
ARYN
LEANED
BACK
in her chair and sipped her coffee. The partner meeting had been scheduled to start right at nine, only Kenny hadn't shown up yet. He'd also missed the basketball game that morning—or so Sam had told her.

Jack glanced at his watch. “Want to go on without him or reschedule?”

Before Taryn could answer, Kenny walked in. He looked rumpled and red-eyed. There was a tension to his shoulders, as if every part of him hurt. And not in an “I used to play football” kind of way.

Sam took one look at him and grinned. Jack slapped him on the back, then loudly said, “Looks like you have a hangover.”

Kenny poured himself some coffee and moved toward the table.

“I said—” Jack began, the volume even higher.

Kenny glared at him. “I heard you the first time.”

“You should have said something.”

“Later, I'll kill you. Just so we're clear.”

Sam chuckled. “A blonde or the bottle?”

“Both and I'm never going to let it happen again.”

Taryn faked a yawn. “If I had a nickel,” she told him. “You look horrible.”

“I
feel
horrible.”

“You're too old to party,” Jack told him. “The price is too high.”

“You think?” Kenny asked as he sank into his seat and closed his eyes. “Why are we having a meeting?”

“We're updating Sam and Taryn on the Living Life at a Run account.”

Kenny opened one eye and looked at her. “It's going great,” he mumbled, then closed the eye.

“I feel better now,” she said. She opened the folder in front of her. All of this could wait, she thought. At least until Kenny rejoined the land of the living. He didn't go for broke often, but when it happened, it wasn't pretty.

She turned to Sam. “What's the update on the party?” she asked.

Sam stiffened. “I'm handling it.”

“Does that mean you've done anything? Because I'm not hearing any details. Not to put too fine a point on it, but tick, tick, tick.”

“Get off me.”

She looked at Jack, who shrugged. “What aren't you telling me?” she asked Sam.

“Nothing about the party.”

She studied him as he spoke and noted that he wasn't looking at her. Great, Kenny was a mess and Sam was keeping secrets.

“I swear,” she muttered as she got to her feet. “I would get more cooperation from baboons.” She pointed at Kenny. “Go home. Hydrate and sleep. I'll send Larissa by later to check on you.”

Kenny managed to open his eyes. “Thanks.” He staggered to his feet and fled.

She turned to Sam. “I'm going to find out what's going on. You know that, right?”

Sam collected his papers and left without saying anything.

Only Jack was left. “You have something you want to say?” she asked.

He smiled. “Sure. Justice Garrett called. He wants to talk to us about a campaign for CDS.”

“The bodyguard school?”

“That's them. Nothing fancy. Not advertising. Just a tweaking of their promotional materials. I thought it would be a fun change for us. We're in a small town now. We need local business.”

She waited for him to make a crack about Angel, but he didn't. “Fine. We'll get it on the calendar.”

“I made an appointment for you already. It's in an hour.”

She sighed heavily. “Of course it is.”

CHAPTER NINE

T
ARYN
SPENT
THE
next hour frantically preparing for her meeting with Justice. Her knowledge of what really happened at CDS—otherwise known as the bodyguard school—was limited to the gossip she'd picked up from her friends and what Angel had told her. She knew the other partners were also former military and that the customers fell into two categories—professional bodyguards and corporate retreats. There were also a few classes offered to the community, but those seemed to be more about building goodwill and not about an actual serious income stream.

By the time her assistant stepped into her office to tell her that Justice was waiting, Taryn had what she hoped was a working knowledge of the industry in general and CDS in particular.

Jack passed her in the hall on her way to the meeting room. “Want me to sit in?” he asked.

“I think you've done enough damage already today,” she said.

He grinned, obviously unrepentant.

Taryn walked into the conference room and smiled at Justice. “Nice to see you,” she said, shaking his hand.

“I appreciate you taking the meeting.”

He was about six feet, with dark blond hair and deep blue eyes. Handsome, she thought absently, but too refined for her taste. It seemed that these days she was attracted to men who were more overtly dangerous.

Not that Justice was available. He was happily married to Patience, the owner of Brew-haha and Taryn's friend. But it was nice that Taryn could look at him and internally yawn.

They both sat down and Taryn waited while Justice explained what he was looking for.

“When we opened last year, we were more focused on getting up and running,” Justice said. “While I like our logo, I'm not happy with any of the other promotional material we have, including our business card design and the website. We have two distinct areas of our business and neither is represented well.”

Taryn made notes as he spoke. She'd been over the website and understood what he was talking about. She took the card he offered, along with a sheet of letterhead and an invoice.

“You're looking to give an impression of success and power,” she told him. “With a corporate edge for those clients. For the other half of your business, you need less flare. I'm thinking understated without a lot of information. Anyone looking for a company to train bodyguards wants discretion. That isn't the place for testimonials. I'm assuming your bodyguard clients come through word of mouth. If they want to know more, they'll ask.”

Justice relaxed in his chair. “Good call.”

She smiled. “Jack and Kenny sell what we offer. I'm the one who makes it work for the client. Let me put together some ideas and I'll get back to you. Who are the decision makers at your firm?”

Justice raised one shoulder. “I handle the day-to-day business, but when it comes to something like this, the team will be involved. Ford, Angel and Consuelo.”

She nodded without reacting to any of the names. She had no way of knowing if Justice knew about her relationship with Angel, and she wasn't going to be the one to try to explain what was happening. Angel kissed as though he knew what he was doing but then had the self-control to walk away. She didn't know if she should be impressed or find someone to beat the crap out of him.

Neither of which were issues Justice needed to deal with.

“I'll bring an appropriate number of copies,” she said.

“I look forward to seeing what you come up with.”

* * *

T
ARYN
WALKED
INTO
Brew-haha to find Dellina waiting. The pretty brunette had her laptop with her. The computer was open and she was typing furiously. Taryn ordered a latte, then sat down across from Dellina, who looked up in surprise.

“Have you been sitting there long?”

Taryn smiled. “I just got here.”

“Good. When I get focused, the rest of the world seems to fade away.” She saved her work, then closed the laptop and shoved it into her briefcase. “I'm finishing paperwork for a job I just completed. It's the worst part. Pulling all the invoices together, trying to figure out why I'm not making as much as I'd hoped.” She laughed. “The trials of being a small business owner.”

“I know that one,” Taryn said. “Thanks for meeting me. I'm sorry to take you away from work.”

Dellina shook her head. “Don't be. I appreciate the opportunity to get out of my house. I love my home office, but I do need to venture into the world. So, what's up?”

“I have a question,” Taryn said. “You know about the party Score wants to hold for its customers in a few months.”

“Yes, you dangled the job in front of me,” Dellina said.

“I told you we were going to hire you,” Taryn corrected, knowing that was still going to happen. “Jack, Kenny and I want someone local. You know the area, you can stay on top of the vendors and you can steer us away from anything that's going to be a problem for the town.”

She paused, not sure how to get to what she wanted to know. “But Sam has some kind of problem with all of this and I want to know what it is.”

Dellina shrugged out of her blazer and leaned forward. “Is that the holdup? Sam?”

“Yes. He's going to be handling the party. Only he won't get started and he's resisting working with you.” Taryn studied the other woman closely as she spoke. “Do you know why?”

She'd thought Dellina might squirm or make an excuse to leave. Both of which would have been warning signs. Instead amusement tugged at the corners of her mouth and brightened her eyes.

“I have a good idea what's going on with him.”

Taryn sighed happily. “I want to hear all of it in as much detail as you're willing to tell.”

Dellina chuckled. “Okay, but there's a few things you need to know first.”

“I'm listening.”

Dellina had a mug of tea. She picked it up, then put it down. “I have two younger sisters. Last year Fayrene met this great guy—Ryan. He's an engineer who works in town. Fayrene and Ana Raquel are twins and four years younger than me. They're both driven. Fayrene has a business in town. A temp agency with a pet-sitting business on the side.”

“Eclectic.”

“You have no idea. Anyway, she has very specific goals, and falling in love wasn't one of them. So when she and Ryan got together last spring, she told him she didn't want to get married for four years.”

“That's pretty sensible,” Taryn admitted, impressed that someone that young had so much self-control.

“It is, except she's now decided she doesn't want to wait. But she has it in her head that she can't simply tell Ryan she's changed her mind. She needs him to propose on his own. Unfortunately Ryan's a really good guy and wants her to be happy, so he's totally respecting her need to wait.”

Taryn saw the problem. “The immovable force meets the irresistible object.”

“Exactly. Fayrene has been brainstorming ways to get Ryan to propose. It's kind of a family thing now. I have a dry-erase board in my home office and she has a running list of—” she held up her fingers to make air quotes “—‘ten ways to get him to propose.'”

“Not my style, but sure.” Taryn wondered what this had to do with Sam.

“Adding to the excitement at my house,” Dellina continued, “is the third bedroom. Right now Isabel is using it to store wedding gowns.”

Taryn nodded. Isabel was expanding her store, Paper Moon. In addition to wedding dresses, she would also carry designer clothes. Taryn didn't want to think about how much money she'd already spent at Paper Moon.

“Last Valentine's Day I went out for drinks with some girlfriends,” Dellina said. “I'm chronically single and I figured looking at all the happy couples would either cause me to throw myself back into the dating pool or reaffirm my single state for the next five years.”

“Logic I support,” Taryn told her.

“Well, I saw this handsome guy sitting across the room.”

Taryn straightened. “Sam?”

Dellina nodded. “I would like to say that I'm not the one-night-stand type. Counting last Valentine's Day, I've done it exactly once. But I figured he was cute and he had to know what he was doing, right? I mean based on volume alone. Sam's a famous football player guy. There have been a lot of girls.” Dellina paused as she began to blush.

Taryn felt the laughter bubbling up inside her. “You took Sam home?”

Dellina nodded.

“To the house with the wedding dresses and a list on how to get him to propose?” Taryn grinned as she imagined what had happened next. She wished she could have been there.

Dellina sighed heavily. “Yeah. That was me.”

Taryn's first giggle escaped.

“Don't laugh,” Dellina said. “Never mind. I know you can't help it. Yes, we did it and yes, the sex was great. And Sam got up to use the bathroom and on his way back, he went into the wrong bedroom, saw the list and dresses and totally freaked.”

Taryn burst out laughing as she pictured the look on Sam's face. He would have been horrified. It was a difficult situation for any guy, but for Sam it would be a total nightmare. “Did he get dressed before he bolted?”

“Not really. He was pretty close to naked as he scampered away across my lawn.” Her mouth twitched. “I tried to call him to explain, but he didn't want to talk to me.”

Taryn struggled for control. “Of course he didn't. Sam has the worst luck with women. There have been massive disasters. Oh, honey, I'm so sorry if you were hurt.”

“I wasn't. It was weird. Like I said, I enjoyed the night, but when he dashed out the door, it was a real mood breaker.” Dellina looked at her. “You're going to torture him with this, aren't you?”

“Every day for the rest of my life.”

“I'm kind of okay with that.” Dellina sighed. “Now you know why he's not thrilled at the idea of working with me.”

Taryn drew in a breath. “Of course. He's terrified of you. It's settled. You are so planning that party. If nothing else, I'll be entertained watching him squirm.”

“You could explain about the misunderstanding.”

Taryn shook her head. “No way. Let him man up and ask you himself. Until then, he deserves to suffer.”

“Remind me never to cross you,” Dellina said.

“Advice to live by,” Taryn told her with a grin.

* * *

“S
ERVICE
DOGS
HELP
people in different ways,” an obviously pregnant Montana Bradley said. “Who here has seen a service dog before?”

Angel and his Acorns sat on a wide expanse of lawn. They'd all come to K9Rx Therapy Dog Kennels, outside town, to learn about their community service project. As promised, Denise Hendrix had set up everything. The girls would visit the puppies once a week for the next six weeks. They would play with them, learn how to teach simple commands and generally enjoy being kids having fun with puppies.

Taryn was there, as well. She sat on the grass, surrounded by girls and puppies.

“While all dogs need to be socialized,” Montana was saying, “it's even more important for service dogs. Who can tell me why?”

Several of the girls raised their hands. Angel noticed Chloe put hers up by her shoulder, as if she knew the answer, but didn't want to draw attention to herself.

Montana talked more about the dogs and how they worked in the community. She mentioned a reading program and one of the girls said her best friend's brother had been a part of it. Angel waited until they stood to sort out the puppies and divide them among the girls to approach her.

He quietly explained about Chloe, and Montana motioned to one of the puppies that seem to hang back from the rest. Angel scooped up the small blond Lab mix and carried him over to Chloe.

“Hey,” Angel said as he sat by the girl. “I need your help with something.”

Chloe looked at him with big green eyes that were more sad than confident.

“This is Riley,” Angel told her. “He's a little more shy than the other puppies. I wondered if you could make him your special project. He's going to need one-on-one attention to help him become social. Montana thinks he has real potential, but only if he can be a little more outgoing.”

Chloe's big eyes widened. “What happens if he doesn't make it in the program?”

“Nothing bad,” Angel told her. “He'll be adopted by a family. He's a cute guy—he'll find a home easily.”

Chloe took the puppy from him and settled him across one leg. “Hey, Riley. Are you sad because you miss your family?”

The puppy rolled onto his back and wagged his tail. Chloe giggled. “He's funny.”

“He's a good guy.”

Chloe nodded as she patted him. “I'll help Riley be braver with the other puppies.” She stood and patted her leg. “Riley, come on. Let's go walk around.”

Angel watched her lead Riley across the grass. The puppy scrambled to keep up at first, then started to run. The other dogs joined in. When Riley stopped, as if not sure what he was supposed to do with all the attention, Chloe got on her hands and knees right next to him. A couple of the girls joined her. Soon there was a giant Acorn-puppy tumbling game going on.

He'd noticed that Chloe's first question to the puppy had been about missing family. Because of her father, he suspected. The loss— Well, he could relate to the pain.

Had it been like that for Marcus? he wondered, having his father leave all the time? Marie had never tried to make him feel guilty when he was deployed and she'd counseled Marcus to be strong, but it had to be hard on a kid when a parent went away.

For a second he thought about trying to say something to Chloe. About being a soldier and serving. But how would words make her feel better?