His love for his family had nothing to do with her, except maybe to point out that nearly everyone was capable of that kind of commitment except her. Love required trust, and there was no way she would go there. She’d made a choice a long time ago and saw no reason to change her mind.
He reached for her and pulled her close. His strong arms held her tight.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Anytime.”
He didn’t speak, which was okay with her. Because if he did, if he’d said he would take her up on that, it would send them to a place that neither of them wanted to go. Marie would be the love of his life for as long as he lived. Taryn knew she would never be able to trust anyone with her heart. It made them perfect for each other. Neither of them would allow things to get serious.
While the realization should have been comforting, instead she felt an odd sense of sadness. As if she’d lost something important. Something she’d almost been able to grasp, until it had somehow slipped away.
* * *
“IF YOU WORE FLATS, this wouldn’t be a problem,” Larissa said as Taryn parked in front of Jo’s Bar.
Taryn looked at her friend. “You’re wearing flats. You could have walked.”
Larissa grinned. “I was being supportive.”
“By driving with me and then complaining about my shoes. It’s an unusual way to show support.”
“I’m an unusual person.”
When Taryn had come in to work this morning and seen the lunch date on her calendar, she nearly canceled. Since picking up Angel the previous afternoon, she hadn’t been able to shake the sense of her world being out of whack. Then she’d reminded herself that life had to go on and hanging out with girlfriends was about the most affirming activity she knew.
Taryn collected her tote and got out of the car. The crocodile-and-glittered-python satchel bag had been delivered that morning. She’d seen it online the day after Angel’s snakebite and had bought it in a gesture of solidarity. So far Larissa hadn’t noticed, which was good. Larissa didn’t believe in using animals or reptiles for bags or shoes. Although, as Taryn liked to point out, Larissa did occasionally wear leather.
They walked into Jo’s Bar and saw that Isabel, Felicia and Dellina had already claimed a table. The three women waved them over. Taryn smiled as she approached, not wanting anyone to know she wasn’t feeling her perky best.
She couldn’t shake what had happened yesterday with Angel. After the incident with the punching bag, he’d stayed with her. They’d slept together and in the morning he’d made love to her—swollen hands and all. She could say that, yes, he was back to who he had been...but she wasn’t. She was still wrestling with all the emotion he’d been dealing with. The pain and suffering.
She wasn’t sure what she was feeling, so she didn’t know how to make it better—or make it go away. Either would be a help. But instead she was left wallowing in something she didn’t understand and the growing sense that she might well be in over her head.
She and Larissa had just taken their seats when Consuelo joined them. Jo walked over with menus and mentioned she had a new pulled pork nacho plate, if they wanted to try those.
Isabel groaned. “I’m trying to lose ten pounds.”
Dellina smiled at her. “Don’t take this wrong, but you’re always trying to lose ten pounds. The pulled pork nachos sound great.”
Consuelo studied Isabel. “I could work up an exercise program,” she offered. “Get you into fighting shape.”
Isabel shook her head. “I don’t want to fight anyone. To be honest, I think I’d rather complain about the extra pounds than do something about them. No offense.”
“None taken.” Consuelo turned to Taryn. “You should do less cardio and more weight training. You have good core strength, but another five pounds of muscle would make a big difference in your metabolism.”
Taryn thought about the weight room at Score and knew that any of the boys would be delighted to take her through a workout.
“I’d rather have a root canal,” she murmured. “And now I want the nachos, too.”
Larissa leaned toward Consuelo. “So you’re secretly working for Jo’s nacho vendor?”
“I guess,” Consuelo muttered. “Now I want a margarita.”
Dellina grinned. “That sounds great. But I feel compelled to point out it’s only lunch. Alcohol means a very slow afternoon.”
Isabel tossed her menu on the table. “I’m walking.”
“I’m gestating,” Felicia said. “Jo has agreed to make me a nutritious smoothie that will aid fetal development.”
“We drove,” Larissa said, glancing at Taryn. “It’s her shoes.”
Taryn reached for her bag and dug out a pair of flats she kept tucked away for emergencies. “I can stagger back to the office if you can.”
Larissa’s eyes lit up. “I say we go for margaritas.”
Consuelo rested her head on her hand. “Me, too. Getting drunk sounds like fun.”
Isabel waved at Jo. “A pitcher of margaritas for the table. And nachos.”
Jo studied them. “You girls are getting wild. Everyone walking?”
They all nodded.
“Margaritas it is. And a smoothie for Felicia.”
Less than five minutes later Taryn was sipping the cold sweet-tart drink and waiting for the tequila to work its magic. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat around with girlfriends over drinks and just had a good time. Probably because she’d never been very good at finding girlfriends. After her mom had left, she’d emotionally shut down. She’d been too scared of her dad to invite anyone over. What if he’d shown up drunk?
After running away, she’d spent all her time trying to keep herself fed and safe. She hadn’t had time for wasted afternoons. Eventually whatever small girl-talk skills she’d managed to acquire had atrophied. Until she’d moved here.
Not that she was going to tell the boys she was really settling in to life in Fool’s Gold.
“I am very close to the unveiling of the newly remodeled Paper Moon,” Isabel said, reaching for her drink. “I’m really happy with how everything has turned out.” She looked at Taryn. “Madeline is working out well. She’s come into her own with the bridal half of the business.”
“Better for you.” Taryn knew that Isabel preferred working with the designers and buying inventory than dealing with the emotional ups and downs of brides-to-be.
“It is. She’s really patient with them. She can handle the mothers and mothers-in-law, which is an art.” She paused. “I really want to keep her in the store. Right now a monetary bonus isn’t going to happen, but I was thinking maybe a small percentage of ownership.”
Dellina glanced between them. “That sounded like a question, not a statement. Are you looking for advice?” She turned to Taryn. “I didn’t know you’d been in retail.”
Taryn could already feel the tequila going to work—probably because she was starving. No doubt Isabel was reacting to the same. Otherwise, this was a conversation they would have had in private.
“I haven’t,” Taryn said, deciding there was no point in hiding the truth. Not that it had ever been a secret. More like something she hadn’t shared with a bunch of people. “I’m an investor in Isabel’s business.”
“More than that,” Isabel told them. “She basically paid for the remodeling. I used my savings to put a large down payment on buying the business.”
Consuelo raised her eyebrows. “Buying local?”
Larissa stared at her. “That’s so nice. I’m surprised.”
Dellina chuckled. “You’re saying she’s not nice?”
“What?” Larissa shook her head. “No. Of course she’s nice. It’s just not always obvious. Like this.” She clapped her hands together. “You have to let Madeline be a part owner. It’s so perfect.”
Which was just like Larissa, Taryn thought affectionately. Leaping in without knowing all the facts but with the idea the world should be saved.
Taryn could have mentioned the venomous snake incident, but Larissa had finally stopped apologizing. She didn’t want to start that up again.
Jo arrived with two plates of nachos. Taryn stared at the steaming meat, the melted cheese and the piles of guacamole on top, and knew she was in for an extra session on the elliptical tomorrow. Still, she had a feeling it was going to be worth it.
She took her first bite and nearly groaned as she tasted the spices on the tender pork, along with the subtle heat of the salsa.
Felicia turned to Consuelo. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing. Why do you ask? Why does something have to be wrong?”
That sounded tense even for the petite firecracker, Taryn thought. She saw everyone was staring at Consuelo, who glared at them.
Felicia poured her friend a second margarita. “You’re extremely tense. You keep shifting in your seat and you’re twisting your engagement ring so quickly I’m concerned you’ll injure yourself. You’re showing classic psychological signs of tension and anxiety.”
Taryn found herself grateful she was sitting across from the other two because Consuelo wasn’t the type to take that kind of criticism well. Taryn half expected to see her go on the attack. But Consuelo only slumped down in her seat and sighed heavily.
“It’s Kent,” she mumbled. “He wants us to set a date for the wedding.”
Larissa frowned. “I don’t get it. Aren’t you engaged?”
Consuelo stared at the diamond ring on her finger. “Yes, we’re engaged.”
“A wedding seems like the next logical step,” Dellina murmured. “From a professional’s perspective, at least.”
Consuelo crunched on a chip. She chewed and swallowed, then gulped from her glass. “I’m not ready,” she said when she’d put it back on the table. “He’s pressuring me. Why does he have to pressure me?”
Felicia smiled. “You’re afraid. This is fear. You’re not feeling pressured about planning the wedding. It’s the actual marriage that concerns you. You don’t think you can be in that kind of stable situation. You’re going to be moving in with Kent and Reese. Be a part of a family. You haven’t had that in many years and you’ve forgotten what it’s like.”
Once again Taryn waited for the attack, but Consuelo only nodded as her brown eyes filled with tears. “I know. It’s horrible. I’m so emotional and moody and yes, scared. I hate it!”
“Kent’s a great guy,” Isabel said. “He’s crazy about you. If you’re worried about expectations, you don’t have to be. He’s not looking for you to take over things at his house. He can handle all of that himself. He’s done that for years.”
“I know,” Consuelo said. “But what if I can’t do it?”
“Do you love him?” Taryn found herself asking.
Consuelo sniffed. “Uh-huh. More than anything. At first my feelings were frightening, but now I’m used to them. To us. I need him and I can’t stop needing him. It’s the being normal part I don’t know how to deal with.”
Something Taryn could relate to. Normal wasn’t part of her world, either. That and being vulnerable. Neither made her comfortable.
“Kent chose you,” Felicia told her friend. “He knew you weren’t normal when you first met.”
Consuelo smiled. “That makes me feel a little better. But I still don’t want a big wedding. Or a small one. I don’t want to get married, I just want to be married. If I was sure he wasn’t expecting me to be normal, I think I could handle that.”
Felicia nodded slowly. “But you’re afraid Kent would miss the ceremony. The rite of passage in front of his friends and family.”
“Reese, too,” Consuelo admitted.
“You’re going to have to find a point of compromise. Talk to him. Find out what part of getting married is most important to him. I suspect it’s not the ceremony as much as you think. I believe he wants you in his house and his bed on a permanent basis, that he wants to begin his life with you.”
Taryn was impressed with Felicia’s grasp of the complexities of human relationships. For all her freakish intelligence, she was starting to be intuitive, as well.
Another pitcher of margaritas was ordered as they ate their way through the nachos. Taryn felt herself relaxing. These women were nice, she thought. Her friends. She could almost trust them.
She had the thought that she should do more than that. She should just emotionally put herself out there. These women were honest and caring. They wouldn’t hurt her. Not on purpose.
Without wanting to, she remembered slipping off that ladder. Of reaching for her father so he could keep her from falling. She remembered the look in his eyes as he’d deliberately ignored her pleas and how she’d screamed the whole way to the ground. And she wondered if she would ever be able to let that go enough to reach out to another person. Figuratively or literally. Or if she would always hold herself back rather than risk the fall.
* * *
TARYN SPREAD OUT several sheets of paper in front of Mayor Marsha. Each one had a different slogan on it.
“We did some preliminary work with the graphics,” Taryn said, pointing at the different fonts and backgrounds. “That’s just to show you what is possible. For now we need to focus on the actual phrase itself.”
She’d arrived a few minutes early for her meeting, just so she could go through her briefcase. She’d been worried Sam and Kenny would slip in a mock-up for Fool’s Gold—Where Men Are Finally Coming. They’d been threatening it for days. Fortunately only the real slogans seemed to have made their way into her tote.