“I don’t need a bigger place,” her friend told her. “A small one-bedroom is plenty. The rent is really cheap so I’ll have more money for my causes.”
Which was exactly what would happen, Taryn thought, picking up scissors and flipping the empty box so she could cut across the tape and then flatten it. Larissa was a giant bleeding heart when it came to causes, especially if there were animals involved. In addition to her full-time job, she volunteered at a couple of shelters, fostered dogs, cats and bunnies and sent money to nearly every organization that asked.
Taryn glanced around at the maybe six-hundred-square-foot apartment. “You won’t be getting a pet bigger than a goldfish in here.”
“I could get a cat,” Larissa told her cheerfully. “I wouldn’t want a dog. I’m not home enough. Besides, if I need something bigger—”
“There’s always Jack’s place,” Taryn said, finishing the sentence. “Yes, I know.”
Jack, who let Larissa use him to support those organizations near and dear to her. Taryn had never been able to figure out why, but the situation worked for them. As a former NFL quarterback, Jack was expected to throw his weight behind some kind of charity. As he’d lost a twin with a heart condition back when they were both kids, he’d chosen to get involved with kids needing organ transplants. Or rather, Jack wrote the check for housing, transportation, whatever, and Larissa took care of staying in touch.
“He misses you desperately,” Taryn told her.
“I’ve been hearing that in his incessant voice mails.” Larissa wrinkled her nose. “He misses my massages. It’s not exactly the same thing.”
“You’re also his assistant. I’m sure he misses you getting him coffee.”
Larissa grinned. “That, too.” She reached for the scissors and flattened her box. “So, the town. I thought you were kidding when you described it to me.”
“Would that I were,” Taryn told her. “But, no. It’s charming and clean and the people are overly friendly.”
“I like it,” Larissa said as she handed Taryn another box, then got one for herself. “I feel like I’ve already made friends. The lady who owns that cute coffee shop paid for my coffee this morning. That was really nice.”
“Patience,” Taryn grumbled. “Her name is Patience. Yes, she’s lovely. They’re all lovely. Except for Charlie, who’s a firefighter and crabby. I like her a lot.”
Actually she liked everyone she’d met, which was kind of annoying. What if all the niceness wore off on her? What if she started smiling at random strangers and saying cheerful things like “Have a nice day”? She shuddered. Being sarcastic and emotionally distant had always served her well. Why mess with success?
“Are the guys settling in?” Larissa asked.
“I guess. You know I try to avoid talking about their personal lives with them whenever possible, so my information may not be totally accurate. But as far as I know, Jack and Kenny seem bimbo-free for the moment, and Sam, well...” She grinned. “Poor Sam.”
Larissa pressed her lips together. “We shouldn’t make fun of him.”
“Why not? It’s not like he can hear us.”
“But it’s so sad.”
It kind of was, Taryn thought, but it was also really, really funny. Sam Ridge, all-star kicker and multimillionaire, had the worst luck when it came to women. If there was a femme fatale in a fifty-mile radius, Sam found her and fell for her. He’d experienced everything from a stalker to an ex-wife writing a near tell-all to having his girlfriend sleep with his best friends.
“I’m waiting for him to fall for a transvestite,” Larissa said with a grin. “Poor Sam.”
“I don’t get it,” Taryn admitted. “He’s smart and insightful. But when it comes to women, he can’t seem to find anyone normal.”
“What about you?” Larissa asked, her tone teasing. “Met anyone tempting?”
The question was meant as a joke. Taryn knew that. She rarely dated. She liked guys, she slept with them, but she didn’t get involved. There was no way she was trusting her heart or any part of her psyche to some man. Talk about stupid.
Except when Larissa asked her question, Taryn immediately thought about Angel. And thinking about Angel meant she wasn’t thinking about anything else and she couldn’t seem to make her mouth move to form the words What? A guy? With me? No way.
Larissa put down the frying pan she’d just unwrapped and stared at her friend. “Oh my God. What? You met someone? Who is he? Tell me everything.” Her big blue eyes widened. “Is he local? Like a single dad.” She sighed. “That would be so romantic. Some sweet guy with a couple of little kids. Like a car mechanic or maybe he owns a little grocery store and they live upstairs. He still misses his wife, but he’s ready to move on. Only I don’t know how you’re going to feel about the kids.”
Taryn stared at her. “You don’t need me here for this conversation, do you? A widower with two kids and a grocery store? That is not happening.”
Larissa’s shoulders slumped. “Why don’t you like him? He’s so nice.”
Taryn held in a scream. “There is no grocery store guy. You made him up. What’s wrong with you? Jeez. The only guy I’m interested in is a former black ops sniper with a scar like somebody slit his throat.”
Larissa handed her the frying pan. “I’d rather date the guy who owns the grocery store.”
“The one who isn’t real?”
“You always focus on the wrong stuff. So tell me about Sniper Man.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
Taryn starting putting plates and bowls in the cupboards, knowing that wasn’t going to be close to enough to distract her friend.
“There’s something,” Larissa told her. “You’re attracted to him.”
“Maybe. Yes. A little.” She sighed. “At least he’s a widower. That should make you happy.”
She’d learned that much at least. But it was hard to get information without telling people why she wanted it, and she wasn’t ready to tell the world that she thought Angel was hot.
“It’s something. But he won’t buy a grocery store?”
“Larissa, I beg you. Stop.”
Larissa smiled. “Everyone thinks you’re tough, but you’re really not.”
“I can be, just not with you.”
“Okay, this Angel guy. You’re dating?”
“Not exactly. We’re sizing up each other.”
“What does that mean?”
Taryn thought about Angel’s announcement that he was good at waiting. A little ripple of anticipation shimmied down her spine as she wondered when he was going to make his move. He was making her wait on purpose, and she respected that. He wanted the game to be intriguing...for both of them.
“I have no idea,” she admitted. “But I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”
* * *
ANGEL PUT THE copy of the bridal magazine on the desk. Ford stared at him in disbelief.
“Just like that?” his friend asked. “Did you wake up thinking this would be a good day to die?”
“She’s