Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)

“It’s Angel,” Consuelo said with disgust. “I’m sure he’s still in bed with Taryn.”


Not anything Sam wanted to hear. Taryn was too much like a sister for him to be thinking about her having sex with anyone. When it came to personal information, he didn’t want to know.

Just then a man on a Harley rounded the corner and parked. A couple of the guys whistled loudly.

“Who’s finally getting some,” Ford yelled. “Did your woman not want you to go?”

“Can I help it if I’m a god in bed?” Angel asked as he pulled off his helmet.

Sam grinned.

The first few mornings after the court had been finished, there had only been the three guys from Score. Later in the week, the team from CDS had shown up. The game had grown from there. Sam wasn’t sure, but he would bet Taryn had something to do with it. There were more greetings, then everyone drew from the cloth bag and divided into teams.

Sam saw he and Consuelo had different colors. He grimaced as he pulled off his shirt. He would have to be careful around her. She thought nothing of throwing an elbow. If it went high, the man she was guarding ended up with a black eye. If it went low, he generally walked like a cowboy for the rest of the day. Neither was appealing.

“Let’s go,” Jack said, clapping his hands together.

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Once a quarterback,” he muttered to Sam.

Sam chuckled.

The ball was tossed into the air and they were moving.

Sam ducked around Justice and reached for the ball. He moved downcourt only to sense more than see someone coming up beside him. He turned, shifted his weight and jumped up to shoot. The ball spun through the air and fell gracefully into the net.

“Way to go, Sam.”

The high-pitched yell had him looking over his shoulder and then swearing under his breath.

“They’re ba-ack,” Ford said as he ran past.

Most mornings two old ladies showed up with lawn chairs and mugs of coffee. They sat and watched until the game was over, cheering both sides and often suggesting that shirts weren’t the only thing that should come off.

He had no problem with that. It was that one of the old ladies seemed especially interested in him and that was kind of weird. He’d run into her a few weeks ago at one of the town festivals and he would swear she’d pinched his ass.

Justice scored for the other team, then Jack stepped out of bounds to take the ball. Sam got into place and caught it, then passed it to a teammate. As they all moved up the court, he thought that if someone was going to go after his ass, he would pick Dellina. They’d only been together that one time, but it had been memorable. The way she’d kissed him, he thought as he turned and reached for the ball. Her mouth had made him—

He came to a stop involuntarily as his face made contact with something hard and sharp. Pain exploded by his eye, but before he even started swearing, he passed the ball to Clay. Only then did he reach up to touch the rapidly swelling lump that was going to not only leave a mark but give him a black eye. He turned to Consuelo.

“Seriously? You had to do that?”

“You weren’t paying attention. You know I hate that.” She sounded more defensive than contrite. Then she pointed to his face. “Your nose is bleeding, too.”

He rubbed his chin. Sure enough, his hand came away with blood on it.

“Man down,” Jack yelled, walking toward him.

“I’m standing,” Sam told him even as he headed off the court. Dripping blood would make the court slick. And he should probably get some ice on his eye.

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry,” Consuelo yelled after him.

He smiled. No, she wouldn’t, and he liked that about her.

Sam walked across the street. It was still before seven but when he entered the offices of Score he found Taryn in the foyer. She took one look at him and shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m not patching you up. And don’t bleed on the carpet.” She walked to the phone at the reception desk and picked up the receiver. A second later she said, “Sam got injured.” She paused and looked at him. “Black eye and bloody nose.” Another pause. “Yes, they are idiots.”

She hung up. “Larissa will meet you in the locker room.” She pulled a box of tissues from the reception desk and thrust it at him. “Use these. I swear, if you drip on our carpet...” she began.

He took the box and pulled out a handful. “You’ll what?”

“Be very angry.”

“Ooooh. I’m trembling.”

She glared at him, then stalked off. Considering she was wearing four-inch heels, the pace was impressive.

Twenty minutes later Larissa removed the ice pack to check the swelling. “You’re going to have a black eye,” she murmured. Her touch was light as she brushed her fingers over his cheek. “You want to go see a doctor?”

“No.”

“Typical. Use the ice packs for ten minutes on, ten minutes off. Don’t press hard.”

“I know how to do this,” he reminded her.