Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

“And you haven’t—” Heidi began.

“Slept with them,” Charlie interrupted. “She’s asking if you slept with them.”

“I didn’t say that,” Heidi said primly. “I was going to hint strongly.”

“No,” Taryn said. “Well, except when Jack and I were married.”

Isabel felt her eyes widen. “You were married to your business partner?”

“A long story for another day. Preferably over martinis,” she said as Jo arrived with the drinks and the chips.

“Now we all have to see them,” Annabelle said. “To check out what you’ve said. If they’re as hot as you say.”

“They’re hot. Great bodies and they look good naked.” Taryn sipped her soda.

“I thought you’d only slept with Jack,” Consuelo said.

“I have, but these are guys who have been in locker rooms all their lives. They don’t care about things like being naked. Plus, they’re proud as hell of their bodies. If I had a nickel for every meeting I had to attend in some damn steam room...”

“I know that one,” Consuelo admitted. “I work with a bunch of former military guys. They’re always walking around naked. It gets old.”

She and Taryn touched glasses in solidarity.

Isabel looked at Patience. “This is news to me. Is it news to you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Patience said, her expression determined. “Justice is going to have some explaining to do.”

Conversation shifted to other topics. Nearly two hours later, lunch was done and everyone left to head back to work or goats. When they were standing outside Jo’s, Taryn hugged Isabel.

“Thanks for inviting me. That was fun and it helps to know some people around here. After I pick the office, I’m going to be gone for a few weeks. At least until escrow closes. I’d like to call when I get back. Maybe we can hang out.”

“I’d like that.”

The tall, well-dressed woman walked away.

“She makes me feel short and casual,” Consuelo said. “But she’s hot.”

Isabel laughed. “Me, too, and I’m about her height.”

They started walking together.

“So, how’s the fake-dating going?” Consuelo asked.

“Good. It’s fun. We went to an estate sale.” Isabel touched the dragonfly pendant she wore.

“It’s not fake for you, is it?” her friend asked, her voice uncharacteristically gentle.

“I don’t think so. Not anymore. I like him.”

“Liking can be dangerous.”

“Feeling a little nervous yourself?” Isabel asked.

“Yeah. Kent’s a great guy and I like his son a lot. But who am I kidding? I’m not going to fit into their world.”

“Why not? You’re single, he’s single. You’d be terrific with Reese. Is it the small town? Are you still adjusting to living here?”

“Some. I just worry about my past.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Look, I need to go.”

Isabel wanted to ask her more. About her experiences and what she should know about Ford’s. But her friend was already walking away. Isabel wondered if she really had an appointment or if she was just trying to escape the conversation.

* * *

FORD WALKED INTO Jo’s Bar and nodded at Jo. Because she ran the kind of bar that was easy to be in, she didn’t ask a lot of questions designed to make him want to bang his head against the wall. Instead her only word was “Beer” and that was in the form of a question.

“Great,” he told her and started for the back room.

Here the space was smaller, darker, and there weren’t any fashion shows on the damn TV. Baseball played, along with a car auction. Ethan stood at the pool table, racking the balls.

“Hey,” he said when he saw his brother.

“Hey.”

Kent walked in carrying three beers. “Jo gave me these.”

“Good woman,” Ethan said, taking one.

Ford grunted in agreement.

They stood in a loose circle and proceeded to use rock-paper-scissors to determine which of them would play first. Ethan lost and stepped away from the table. Ford and Kent both grabbed a pool cue.

“So, how’s it going?” Ethan asked.

“Good,” Kent said, taking his place to break.

“Same.” Ford sipped his beer, then glanced at Ethan. “You?”

“Great.”

Kent broke and the balls went speeding around the table. Two and three dropped into pockets.

“Nice,” Ford said.

Kent grinned. “Reese and I have been practicing.”

“So you want stripes?”

“Right,” Kent said, ignoring him. “Seven in the left front pocket.” He angled his cue and gave a sharp shove. The maroon ball sailed into the pocket without touching the sides of the table.

Ethan put down his bottle. “You bring cash?” he asked Ford.

“Yeah, but maybe not enough.”

Kent chuckled. “It’s your first time since you’re back, baby brother. I’m going easy on you.”

“Good to know.”

On the TV the Red Sox player hit what seemed to be a home run. The three of them stopped to watch the ball sail over the outfield and drop into the stands.

“Hell of a hit,” Ethan said.