Three Little Words
Page 25

“Raise goats. I make cheese and soap.”
Taryn blinked. “Seriously?”
“Sure. I sell goat milk and manure, too.”
“Do we have to shake hands?” Taryn asked.
Heidi grinned.
“You are really beautiful,” Patience said. “That’s trouble. We’ve barely gotten used to Felicia.”
“My attractiveness is offset by social awkwardness,” Felicia reminded them.
“She’s really smart,” Consuelo added. “It’s a weird combination. But she’s fun. I, on the other hand, am only a pain in the ass.”
“That’s not true,” Annabelle told her. “You were seen with a certain someone recently. Going out to dinner with Kent. There was no report of kissing, but rumors are flying anyway.”
“So it’s true?” Isabel said. “You’re really dating him? His sisters said something at the family dinner, but I wasn’t sure.”
“Dating is a strong word,” Consuelo mumbled. “We’re seeing each other. It’s early.”
Isabel turned to Taryn. “Kent is part of the Hendrix family. They’re one of the town’s founding families. There are six kids, including Kent. Three boys and triplet girls. They’re all married now. Except for Kent and Ford.”
“Tell her how you’re fake-dating Ford,” Charlie called from across the table.
Isabel winced. “Don’t say that so loud. This is Fool’s Gold. What if someone reports back to Denise?”
Taryn’s eyes glazed over. “Fake-dating?”
“It’s complicated,” Isabel said, glaring at Charlie. “And a long story.”
“She’s sleeping with him, too,” Charlie added with a grin.
“What’s the point of fake-dating if you aren’t getting laid?” Taryn murmured.
Jo came up in time to hear the last comment. “Nice,” she said. “I’m going to like this one. What’ll you have, ladies?”
There were orders for diet soda and iced tea. Chips, salsa and guacamole were ordered for the table.
“I have specials,” Jo told them and explained what they were, then left.
“So what is your company?” Annabelle asked.
“PR and marketing,” Taryn said. “We handle a lot of sports-based companies, not surprising considering the boys. We have a couple of microbrewery accounts, but I swear it’s just so they can go off and taste samples.”
“The boys?” Patience asked. “They can’t be your sons?”
“Oh, sorry. I get so used to calling them that. Not boys in age, although a case could be made in emotional maturity. My business partners. I work with three former football players.”
“Anyone we would have heard of?” Charlie asked.
Taryn sighed. “Jack McGarry, Sam Ridge and Kenny Scott.”
Even Isabel had heard of Jack McGarry. “Wasn’t he some famous quarterback?”
“Unfortunately.”
Consuelo laughed. “Why unfortunately?”
“Because it goes to his head. Jack is very much the guy walking around thinking, ‘But hey, it’s me.’ Sam was a kicker and one of the best. Kenny’s a receiver. Good hands and he runs like the wind.” She smiled. “They are good-looking, handsome and single. Women are everywhere. One of the reasons I agreed to move here is because I thought it would be quieter. Fewer fans to interfere with work.”
“They’re all single?” Heidi asked. “What about you? Not interested? I mean, if they’re all you say...”
“They’re all that,” Taryn told her. “They’re also spoiled, petulant and disgustingly good at their jobs. Sam handles the money. I want to complain, but I can’t. Jack and Kenny are the rainmakers. There’s not a client alive they can’t charm into signing.”
“Which makes you what?” Charlie asked.
“The one who holds it all together. They bring me the client, I do the presentation. We have an in-house graphics team and account reps who are assigned various clients. That’s why I’m here. To find us office space that doesn’t include a basketball court or isn’t across the street from a strip club.”
“I don’t think we have a strip club in town,” Annabelle said.
“That’s a blessing.”
“CDS—the company where I work—remodeled an old warehouse,” Consuelo told her. “You might want to look by us. There are other old warehouses available. They have plenty of room and aren’t too expensive. You’re going to have to remodel anyway.”
“That’s an idea. If we’re not in the center of town, they can be as loud as they want.”
“They’re loud?” Patience asked.
Taryn shrugged. “They’re good guys, but think about it. They were football players who made it to the NFL. No one ever tells them no. If they can’t win it, they can buy it. But they’re sweet. Jack and Kenny especially. Sam’s a bit more reserved. But these are not men comfortable with losing at anything. Ever. It’s exhausting.”
“And you haven’t—” Heidi began.
“Slept with them,” Charlie interrupted. “She’s asking if you slept with them.”
“I didn’t say that,” Heidi said primly. “I was going to hint strongly.”
“No,” Taryn said. “Well, except when Jack and I were married.”
Isabel felt her eyes widen. “You were married to your business partner?”
“A long story for another day. Preferably over martinis,” she said as Jo arrived with the drinks and the chips.
“Now we all have to see them,” Annabelle said. “To check out what you’ve said. If they’re as hot as you say.”
“They’re hot. Great bodies and they look good na**d.” Taryn sipped her soda.
“I thought you’d only slept with Jack,” Consuelo said.
“I have, but these are guys who have been in locker rooms all their lives. They don’t care about things like being na**d. Plus, they’re proud as hell of their bodies. If I had a nickel for every meeting I had to attend in some damn steam room...”
“I know that one,” Consuelo admitted. “I work with a bunch of former military guys. They’re always walking around na**d. It gets old.”
She and Taryn touched glasses in solidarity.
Isabel looked at Patience. “This is news to me. Is it news to you?”
“Oh, yeah,” Patience said, her expression determined. “Justice is going to have some explaining to do.”
Conversation shifted to other topics. Nearly two hours later, lunch was done and everyone left to head back to work or goats. When they were standing outside Jo’s, Taryn hugged Isabel.
“Thanks for inviting me. That was fun and it helps to know some people around here. After I pick the office, I’m going to be gone for a few weeks. At least until escrow closes. I’d like to call when I get back. Maybe we can hang out.”
“I’d like that.”
The tall, well-dressed woman walked away.
“She makes me feel short and casual,” Consuelo said. “But she’s hot.”
Isabel laughed. “Me, too, and I’m about her height.”
They started walking together.
“So, how’s the fake-dating going?” Consuelo asked.
“Good. It’s fun. We went to an estate sale.” Isabel touched the dragonfly pendant she wore.
“It’s not fake for you, is it?” her friend asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.
“I don’t think so. Not anymore. I like him.”
“Liking can be dangerous.”
“Feeling a little nervous yourself?” Isabel asked.
“Yeah. Kent’s a great guy and I like his son a lot. But who am I kidding? I’m not going to fit into their world.”
“Why not? You’re single, he’s single. You’d be terrific with Reese. Is it the small town? Are you still adjusting to living here?”
“Some. I just worry about my past.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Look, I need to go.”
Isabel wanted to ask her more. About her experiences and what she should know about Ford’s. But her friend was already walking away. Isabel wondered if she really had an appointment or if she was just trying to escape the conversation.
* * *
FORD WALKED INTO Jo’s Bar and nodded at Jo. Because she ran the kind of bar that was easy to be in, she didn’t ask a lot of questions designed to make him want to bang his head against the wall. Instead her only word was “Beer” and that was in the form of a question.
“Great,” he told her and started for the back room.
Here the space was smaller, darker, and there weren’t any fashion shows on the damn TV. Baseball played, along with a car auction. Ethan stood at the pool table, racking the balls.
“Hey,” he said when he saw his brother.
“Hey.”
Kent walked in carrying three beers. “Jo gave me these.”
“Good woman,” Ethan said, taking one.
Ford grunted in agreement.
They stood in a loose circle and proceeded to use rock-paper-scissors to determine which of them would play first. Ethan lost and stepped away from the table. Ford and Kent both grabbed a pool cue.
“So, how’s it going?” Ethan asked.
“Good,” Kent said, taking his place to break.
“Same.” Ford sipped his beer, then glanced at Ethan. “You?”
“Great.”
Kent broke and the balls went speeding around the table. Two and three dropped into pockets.
“Nice,” Ford said.
Kent grinned. “Reese and I have been practicing.”
“So you want stripes?”
“Right,” Kent said, ignoring him. “Seven in the left front pocket.” He angled his cue and gave a sharp shove. The maroon ball sailed into the pocket without touching the sides of the table.
Ethan put down his bottle. “You bring cash?” he asked Ford.
“Yeah, but maybe not enough.”
Kent chuckled. “It’s your first time since you’re back, baby brother. I’m going easy on you.”
“Good to know.”
On the TV the Red Sox player hit what seemed to be a home run. The three of them stopped to watch the ball sail over the outfield and drop into the stands.
“Hell of a hit,” Ethan said.
“Great player.” Kent lined up his next shot.
Ethan walked over to Ford. “Things okay?”
“Sure.”
He turned to Kent. “You?”
“Fine. At your house?”
“All good.”
“Four in the corner,” Kent said, leaning over the table.
And with that, Ford thought, they were done. Emotional temperatures gauged, problems discussed, the world righted. Something the women in his life would never understand.
* * *
FORD DRAGGED THE RAKE across the grass. Fall had definitely come to Fool’s Gold. The days were notably shorter; the leaves were turning and falling. Up on the mountain, scarlets and yellows created a quilt of bright colors. Here in town, all those colors meant leaf cleanup.
Isabel collected the yard-waste bin and eyed the growing pile. “There’s not going to be enough room,” she said. “The trees are serious about shedding.”
“You have yard-waste bags in the garage,” he told her. “On the shelf above the lawn mower. They’ll take the extras.”
She put her hands on her hips. “You’re spending way too much time over here if you know where stuff like that is.”
He grinned. “I happened to see them last time I mowed. I’m not taking inventory.”
He wore an old Los Angeles Stallions sweatshirt and jeans. Battered boots and no jacket. His hair was mussed and he hadn’t shaved that morning. He looked better than a hot-fudge sundae. Looking at him practically made her stomach growl.
Their fake relationship was starting to confuse her. Mostly because it was so easy. He was here every night. They had dinner together, did chores. She’d joined him on that work dinner, and he occasionally popped into Paper Moon.
Lately, the thought of leaving wasn’t as thrilling as it had been. Sure, the dream of her own store was still a draw, but what about Ford?
Whenever those questions arose, she reminded herself that this wasn’t real. That while she was emotionally engaged, he wasn’t, and that if she stayed, he would break her heart. Wouldn’t it be easier to be on the other side of the country instead of having the risk of seeing him around every corner?
She heard the phone ring in the house. “I’ll go get that,” she said.
“I know you’re calling yourself on your cell,” he yelled after her. “To get out of work.”
She was still laughing when she picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hi, Isabel, it’s Denise Hendrix. How are you?”
The laughter faded in her throat. “Fine, thank you. And you?”
“I’m doing great. I was thinking we didn’t get much time to talk when you and Ford were over for dinner. The family is such a crowd. I think we should spend some quality time together, so I thought we could go out for tea. The lodge has one every month, on Saturday afternoon. I’d invite the triplets, so it would just be us girls. How does that sound?”
Isabel opened her mouth, then closed it. Tea with his mother and sisters? Lying to them directly for a couple of hours?