for the next couple of days.
“He took pity on me and invited me out to dinner.” She turned to Angel. “Dinner turned into breakfast. A few days later, I moved in with him.”
She waited for the inevitable “Did you love him?” Because the few people who knew the story always asked that. She hadn’t known Jack well enough to be sure how much she even liked him, but she’d been homeless and hungry and he was a good guy.
“He was a way out,” Angel said quietly, surprising her with his insight. “Better than living in your car.”
“He’s a great guy. I know that now. But at the time...” She shrugged. “Yeah, it was better than living in my car.” She paused. “Jack has a kind streak. Once he accepts you, you’re in for life. He accepted me. Over the next couple of months, I discovered I really did like him a lot. Then I turned up pregnant.”
She drew in a breath, hating how stupid that phrase always made her feel. She’d been careful, but not careful enough. When she’d realized what had happened, she’d been afraid he would think she was trying to trap him.
“So you got married.”
“That weekend. We flew to Las Vegas. I tried to talk him out of it. No.” She shook her head. “Actually I didn’t. Not very hard. Part of me wanted to let him take care of me.” Because no one ever had.
She was aware of talking too much, of saying too much, but somehow the words kept on coming.
“Two weeks later, I lost the baby.”
It had happened so fast. She hadn’t even absorbed the fact that there was a child and then it was gone. She’d gone to see her doctor, who’d confirmed the miscarriage.
“I filed for a divorce the next day,” she continued. “Without a baby, there was no reason for us to stay together and I didn’t want to take advantage of Jack. Only the Stallions didn’t see it that way. All they knew was that their star quarterback was getting a divorce and that having his ex-wife around might make him uncomfortable, so I was fired.”
“Hell of a week,” Angel murmured.
And not her worst one, she thought. “Jack, being Jack, tried to talk them out of it. When that didn’t work, he came to me and offered to be a silent partner in a new PR firm. I agreed and Score was born. A few years later, he brought Sam and Kenny on board and we’ve been together ever since.”
They’d turned a business partnership into a family. No matter what, she and Jack would be there for each other. He hadn’t been the great love of her life, but she cared for him more than she’d ever cared about anyone. No matter what, she would be there for Jack and he would there for her. In a way, that was better than romance, because she could depend on it.
Angel smiled at her. “You win. I can’t top that story.”
“You could tell me about the guy who slit your throat.”
“He had a bad week, too. Enough on that. So what’s your favorite business in town?”
He was changing the subject—something she was happy to have happen. She’d already said too much and couldn’t figure out why. It certainly couldn’t be the wine. She was on her first glass.
“I can’t pick,” she admitted. “I like them all. Favorite season?”
“Summer.”
“Girls in bikinis?”
“I like running when it’s warm.”
“Running as in exercising outdoors on purpose?”
He chuckled. “That would be it, yes.”
“My idea of hell.”
“You work out in a gym.”
“How do you know I work out at all?”
His gaze traveled over her body. “I’m not going to bother answering that.”
“I do yoga, too,” she murmured.
He chuckled. “Lucky me. Favorite James Bond actor?”
“Pierce Brosnan. James Bond movies should come with a wink. The new guy is too serious. I miss all the gadgets.” She looked at him. “You, however, are old-school. Your favorite is Sean Connery.”
* * *
“HE IS,” ANGEL admitted, watching the last rays of sun play across Taryn’s face. For a second they flashed on her sculpted cheekbones and then the sun slipped below the horizon.
Lights had already come on around them, but even with them, she was mostly in shadow. Her pale skin gleamed while her dark eyes stayed mysterious.
He held in a chuckle, knowing he was acting like a sixteen-year-old on his first date with the prom queen. Horny and out of his league.
“I’m very much old-school,” he said as she rose.
Before he could figure out what she was doing, she slipped off her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. Whatever he’d been going to say next was lost when he took in her bare back and how the dress dipped low to her hips.
Her skin was smooth, her waist narrow. She settled back in the chair and angled toward him. What had been a tailored dress that hugged her curves had suddenly become so much more than that. His mouth went dry. Hunger boiled and sent blood flooding his groin.
“You’re probably the kind of person who enjoys books rather than an e-reader,” she said, picking up her wine again.
“I like how they feel in my hands,” he said without thinking, his gaze still on her. “The smell of the paper. It’s a tactile experience.” He raised his gaze to hers. “Nicely played.”
“Thank you.” She gave him a measured look. “I like that you don’t assume I’m easy.”
“Any man who does that is a fool.”
“The world is a foolish place.”
“When was the last time you let a man take care of you?”
She paused and something flashed in her eyes. A memory, he would guess. But good or bad? He couldn’t say.
“It’s been a while. I don’t trust easily. Just like you don’t give up control.”
“I can.”
“When was the last time? Nineteen ninety-eight?”
She was teasing. The real answer was 1992. With Marie. But he wasn’t going to talk about that.
He rose and walked around the table, then gently drew Taryn to her feet. He liked that they were nearly the same height.
“Love the shoes,” he murmured. “Ridiculous but effective.”
He put his hands on her shoulders, then lightly drew them down
