“For service,” he said. “There’s a second bead when we finish with the puppies.”
The girls put the bead on their leather bracelets, then watched as he and Taryn did the same. Once they were done, he walked them all to the waiting area.
When the last of the girls had been delivered to her parents, Taryn turned to him and adjusted the leather thong around his wrist.
“Lucky for you accessories are very hot this year,” she told him.
Her touch was light but arousing. She was standing close and he wanted her closer. Soon, he thought, thinking about their last kiss. Anticipation was great, but eventually they would both want more.
She smiled as her fingers lingered. “I’ll give you credit, big guy. You’re not intimidated by a grove of little girls anymore.”
“You think most men would have held out long in fear?”
“I know they would have. And I know there are very few who would be comfortable wearing this.” She tapped the leather. “You know I’m coming to CDS, right?”
“Justice mentioned it.” Something about branding and how their clients viewed them.
“So you won’t mind if I’m in charge?”
He smiled slowly. “Is that what all this is about? No, Taryn, you don’t intimidate me, either. I like that you’re good at your job. I like that you boss your football players around.”
He liked her, but saying that would take them a place neither of them needed to go. They were looking for something fun, not romantic. The challenge, not the fall.
“You’re saying I can boss you around, too?” she asked.
“Never going to happen.”
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“I am.”
She leaned against him for a second, then stepped away. “Good.”
* * *
TARYN HAD REACHED the point in her career where she was rarely nervous before a client meeting. But heading to CDS was different. She knew the cause—a certain man with gray eyes and a way of looking at her that made her feel feminine and flirty. She would say uncertain, only that wasn’t one of the emotions she allowed herself.
Still, she’d dressed carefully, choosing a Hervé Léger bicolor jacket in black and white and a black pencil skirt. Her shoes were Valentino Rockstud open-toe pumps with a two-inch platform and a five-inch heel. She wanted to be close to the tallest person in the room. With size came power. Kenny had taught her that. She wasn’t willing to bulk up, but she could rock a high heel.
She crossed the parking lot to the entrance and stepped into the offices. Justice was waiting by the front desk. He greeted her and shook her hand before leading her back to a conference room.
When they were seated, he offered her coffee, then flipped on a computer that began a PowerPoint presentation.
“As I told you,” he began, “our business is divided into two main parts. We provide professional training to people entering the service protection industry.”
She looked at him. “You don’t really call it that, do you?”
He flashed her a smile. “No.” The slide changed from a man in fatigue cargo pants and a T-shirt to a group of men and women in suits. “We also provide corporate events. A chance for a group to experience something outside their comfort zone. It allows them to bond as a unit. We are the shared adversary.”
He went over the structure of the company. Justice ran the business, Ford brought in clients, while Angel designed the various exercises, obstacle courses and training programs. Consuelo ran most of the classes directly.
He showed her different ads they’d used and handed her copies of other materials.
She pulled a laptop out of her tote and booted it up. Justice gave her their Wi-Fi code and she logged on to the internet.
“Let’s go through your website,” she said, moving her finger across the touch pad, then clicking the page. “Here’s what I see are the big issues that should be addressed.”
Two hours later she and Justice had gone through all their material and every page of the website. She’d made notes about what he said was important and shared her own thoughts on improvements. She’d suggested a secure area for their security-based clients where a log-on would be required. With the right encryption in place, information could be shared without any security risks.
“You’ve made good points,” Justice told her. “Ready for the demonstration?”
“It’s what I’ve been looking forward to most,” she said with a grin.
This would be the first time she would see Angel in his work environment. Usually that wasn’t something that interested her, but Angel wasn’t a guy in an office.
Justice picked up the phone and dialed three numbers. “We’re ready,” he said into the receiver.
She followed him down the hall and into what looked like a large gym. There were windows up toward the high ceiling. Light spilled in, but no one could see what was happening inside. There were weights and ropes and pads on the floor. Everything seemed to have a hard edge. She noticed there wasn’t a single elliptical in sight.
Ford, Consuelo and Angel walked into the room. They were all dressed in green cargo pants and black T-shirts. In Consuelo’s case the T-shirt was a tank style. Taryn worked out four or five days a week. She did her thirty minutes of cardio and then a thirty-minute Pilates routine that kept her toned and flexible. She considered herself to be in decent shape. But next to these hard bodies, she felt flabby and weak.
Her boys were guys with muscles, but Angel and Ford were bigger across the chest and...harder. Consuelo had definition that Taryn hadn’t known was possible in a woman. She suspected it had to do with function. Her boys trained for a game. The CDS folks had trained to stay alive.
“Taryn would like to see a demonstration,” Justice said.
Ford nudged Angel, who winked at her. Consuelo glared at them both, then said, “I’ll play.”
Angel and Ford faced each other. Taryn wasn’t sure what to expect, but a round of rock-paper-scissors wasn’t it. Ford lost his rock to Angel’s paper. Angel walked over to stand next to Taryn, while Ford approached Consuelo.
“Is it that you don’t want to fight a woman?” she asked quietly. “Is that why you—”
Consuelo grabbed Ford by the arm. Before Taryn could finish her sentence, the taller, stronger man went flying. Faster than she could believe, Consuelo was standing over him, her booted foot at his neck. Even without military training Taryn could see that with a little pressure, she could easily crush the man’s throat and kill him.
Angel grinned. “I don’t like to spar with her because she fights dirty and usually wins.”
Taryn winced. “I get that. Remind me never to take one of her self-defense classes.”
“She goes easy on civilians.”
“I suspect we have different definitions of what counts as easy.”
He was still chuckling when he joined his friends.
The demonstration lasted about fifteen minutes. They were able to do things with their bodies that left her gasping. The race up the ropes was stunning. She didn’t know real people could move that quickly.
When everything was wrapped up, Angel walked her to her car.
“Nice shoes,” he said as they paused by her car.
She pivoted on the ball of her foot. “I know. They’re pretty fabulous.” She put her tote in the backseat and faced him. In the bright sun the scar on his neck seemed more pronounced.
“I’m used to being around physically powerful men,” she told him. “But you’re different. Kenny, Jack and Sam could snap me like a twig without even trying. You could do that, hide the body and then take a twenty-mile run without breaking a sweat.”
“I’d sweat.” One corner of his mouth turned up. “Just not a lot.”
“Did you like being a soldier?”
He thought for a second. “Yeah, I did. Serving my country made sense to me. War didn’t, but I’d been trained not to ask questions. I know I did good.”
She took one of his hands in hers and turned it over. He’d been a sniper, she thought. He’d killed because he’d been trained and ordered to do so. There was no way to relate to that. He was also the same man who wore a leather bracelet with beads on it because he was a Grove Keeper for the FWM. A man of contradictions.
She thought about his wife and his son. How he’d loved them and lost them. She would guess much of his heart had died with them.
She stared into his gray eyes. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not looking for a happily ever after,” she told him.
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t believe it’s possible.”
“Love? Or love that lasts?”
“Both.”
He curled his fingers around hers. “You’re wrong. They’re out there.”
Maybe, but they would require a level of trust she didn’t have. Everyone carried around lessons from childhood, and that was hers.
“You’re not looking to give your heart,” she said.
He shook his head. “No. I’m not.”
“Then this works out for both of us.”
CHAPTER TEN
JACK REACHED ACROSS the conference table and picked up a doughnut. “We about done here?”
Taryn rolled her eyes. “Dear God, can we go one staff meeting without you whining about how long it takes?”
“It’s boring.”
Taryn returned her attention to her notes. “Somebody hit him.”
Chairs moved and there were several scuffling sounds, followed by a thud and a “You’ll pay for that, Kenny.”
Kenny only laughed. “Just doing what the lady asked.”
Taryn looked up as the boys returned to their seats. She waited until they were settled to bring them up to date on the campaign for LL@R.
“You practicing for our weekend with Cole?” Jack asked.
“Yes. I’ve been rock climbing and this weekend I’m going kayaking.”
Sam raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Of course.” She smiled smugly. “I told you—I can handle whatever the client wants.”
Thanks to her deal with Angel and her nightly workout of carrying around the ridiculously heavy backpack, she was feeling more confident about her outdoor abilities.
She hadn’t been overly excited about paddling down a river until she’d realized it meant she wouldn’t have to hike with the backpack. Instead she could float it. A much easier proposition.
She scanned the rest of her list. “That about does it for me. Do you three have anything to discuss?”
Jack had been leaning back in his chair. Now he brought it down with a thud. “Yes. We have to change the town slogan. It was fine before, but we live here now.”
Taryn stared at him. “Excuse me? What are you talking about?”
“The town has a slogan,” Sam told her. “You don’t know about this?”
“I guess.” She thought for a second. “Fool’s Gold. The Land of Happy Endings. What’s the problem with—” She got the second meaning for “happy endings.”
“See?” Kenny said. “It’s funny in a way they don’t mean it to be funny.”
“I’m sure it’s just the three of you,” she told him. “You’re all overgrown teenagers. No one else is thinking what you’re thinking.”
“You are,” Jack said. “Now you won’t be able to think of the slogan any other way.”
She hated to admit it, but he was right. “Happy ending,” in a certain context, could be a euphemism for an orgasm. Usually a male orgasm. “Well, crap. Fine. I’ll mention something to the mayor.”
“Can I come listen?” Kenny asked eagerly.
“No, you can’t. It’s going to be difficult enough to explain the double entrende of happy endings to a woman in her sixties as it is. I don’t need you giggling in the background.”
How on earth was she supposed to start that conversation with the mayor?
“Maybe it would help if we brainstormed a few ideas for you,” Jack said.
Taryn studied him. “Are you being serious or messing with me? Because I have other things I could be doing.”
“There used to be a man shortage,” Kenny said helpfully. “Now there isn’t.”
Sam cleared his throat. “Fool’s Gold—Where Men Are Finally Coming.”
The three guys all started laughing. Taryn collected her folders and walked out. Juveniles, she thought fondly. She was working with juveniles.
She started toward her office, only to be stopped by Larissa.
“You have visitors,” her friend said. Larissa looked more concerned than pleased. “I didn’t know how to stop them.”
“That sounds ominous. Who are we talking about?”
Larissa glanced over her shoulder, toward Taryn’s office. “They’re two old ladies. Eddie and Gladys. I’ve seen them around town. I want to say they’re harmless, but I have a bad feeling about them.”
“I’m sure they want the company to sponsor something,” Taryn said, moving down the hall. “A race or maybe they bowl.” Or maybe they wanted the boys to make a personal appearance. Three former football players as good-looking as Kenny, Sam and Jack had a way of drawing a crowd.
She walked into her office and saw the two older women waiting by her desk. One of them wore a floral print shirt over slacks, while the other had on a bright yellow velour tracksuit.
“Good morning,” she said with a smile. “I’m Taryn Crawford. How can I help you?”
“I’m Eddie,” the woman in the tracksuit said. “This is Gladys. We want to talk about the basketball game.”
Taryn wasn’t sure what she meant. “Which game?”
Gladys and Eddie exchanged a look. If Taryn didn’t know better, she would swear they were silently saying they thought she would be brighter than this.
“The one in the morning. With the guys from the bodyguard school. It’s not every morning. We want to know which mornings it is.”
Taryn sat down behind her desk. “Is the noise bothering you?”
The women exchanged another look. Eddie sighed and spoke more slowly. “We don’t live nearby, so no, it’s not a bother. We want to know when they’re going to play so we can come watch.”
“The basketball game the guys have in the morning. For exercise?”
“Yes,” Eddie told her, her tone exasperated. “That one. Half of them take their shirts off. It’s shirts and skins. We want to watch.”
Taryn felt her mouth start to drop open. She carefully closed it, then nodded. “Of course,” she said, not sure if elderly women watching seminaked guys play basketball was impressive or creepy. “If you want to give me your email address, I’ll send you their schedule.”
“That would be very nice,” Eddie said as she and Gladys rose.
Taryn escorted them out, then returned to her office. As she sat down she thought about telling the guys what was happening. She shook her head. Better for them to find out on their own.
* * *
ANGEL WATCHED AS Taryn pulled in next to his SUV and parked. He’d offered to drive her to the launch spot of their kayaking adventure, but she’d had an unexpected teleconference with a client.
“Sorry,” she said as she locked her car and walked toward him. “There’s a crisis in the world of sushi restaurants. At least for three of the ones we work for. Sasha Andersson, the actor, claimed a bout of food poisoning, which could be death for a restaurant. Fortunately he was simply sick from too much drinking and has since apologized, but there’s still damage control.”
Angel nodded as she spoke, more interested in what she wore than what she said. Once again she’d done her research. She had on waterproof running pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail and she’d tucked a baseball cap under one arm. She’d already zipped her small wallet into a pocket on the side of her leg and did the same with her car keys.
“Sorry about the sushi crisis,” he told her.
“You couldn’
t care less,” she teased.
“I could care a little less, but not much.”
She moved close before raising herself on tiptoe and lightly kissing his mouth. “Not into celebrity gossip?”
“Nope.”
“There’s my macho soldier.”
She patted his arm. After that brief kiss, he wanted her touching him in other places, but they had a long day ahead of them. Work first, play later.
He guided her to the two boats tied up by a low dock. “What do you know about kayaking?”
She looked at him. “Really? You don’t trust me?”
“I’m getting information for safety reasons.”
“That’s what they all say. All right—kayaks come in different sizes for different purposes. Some are better on open water and some are better on lakes. There are also larger kayaks for overnight trips, which makes no sense to me. It’s way too much like camping.”
Angel held in a grin. As he’d suspected, she’d done her homework. He respected that. She told him the basics of maneuvering, moving to and from shore and the best way to get in and out of a kayak.
“It’s all about center of gravity,” she told him. “What they mean is your butt. Get your butt safely in the boat, and the rest will follow. From what I saw on the videos I watched, getting in seems a whole lot easier than getting out. Want me to demonstrate different paddling techniques?”
“Maybe later,” he told her.
He picked up the small cooler he’d brought. There was a light lunch inside. Then they walked over to the dock.
“We’re going downriver a few miles,” he said. “I walked it yesterday and it’s pretty calm. Just remember, this is snowpack runoff. It’s cold.”
“So I shouldn’t fall in.” She studied the water for a second. “You know this only flows one way. How do we get back to our cars?”
“We’re being met at the other end. I make a call and a guy meets us. We load the kayaks and drive back here.”
“We could just drive both ways and admire the view outside the window.”
“We could, but we won’t.”
“I didn’t think so.”
He stored the lunch in his kayak, then handed her a life jacket. She slipped it on. He did the same with his, then put one foot on her boat to steady it.
When We Met Page 13