Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

GENERALLY THE MUSIC in the bridal shop was calm while being upbeat. No songs about broken hearts were allowed. Sort of rock-edged spa music. But today Isabel could hear only the music playing in her head. The Clash song “Should I Stay or Should I Go?” played over and over as she checked inventory and ordered samples.

It was the question of the day. Her weekend with Ford had been lots of fun. He was funny and charming and sweet, if slightly obsessed with elephant ears. Being with him was easy. Loving him... Well, that had probably been inevitable.

She was willing to state the obvious. She’d totally and completely fallen in love with him. There were a thousand reasons—some about him and some about her past. For years he’d been the person she’d poured her heart out to. She’d confessed all, and whether or not he’d listened, he’d been the one she’d instinctively turned to when things got bad.

She’d wondered about seeing him in person. Would it be better or worse than she’d imagined? Could the man live up to the hype?

She’d discovered that he could and he did. Ford was honorable and caring. The fact that he was terrified of his mother only added to his charm. Isabel understood him, depended on him and had fallen in love with him. The downside was he didn’t think he was capable of loving anyone. Because he never had done so.

She wanted to challenge him on that. To grab him and shake him until he admitted that he’d been too young when he and Maeve had gotten engaged, and since then he’d never been in one place long enough to fall in love. That he needed to give it a try because without him, her heart would be shattered.

The music in her head started again. Should I stay or should I go? A question people had been asking since the most ancient of ancestors had been able to form thought. Because she wasn’t just asking about her business; she was asking about Ford. Did she take a chance that he might figure out that she was his one true love? Because what if she wasn’t? What if he really wasn’t interested in loving her back? What if he knew himself better than she thought?

Isabel shook her head. This was neither productive nor encouraging. She needed to make her decision to stay or go based on her and no one else. If she stayed and it didn’t work out with Ford, she would find someone else. Or stay single. Not everybody had to get married to find happiness.

The front door of the store opened. Isabel turned and saw Taryn walk in.

“I got a message you have new clothes for me,” the elegant brunette said. “Dellina said she was desperately bitter about the new designers and reminded me to buy local. Do you know what she’s talking about?”

“I brought in a couple more designers last week,” Isabel told her. “They’re young and edgy.”

Taryn nodded. “But not Dellina’s friends. I get it. I’m going to have to explain to her that I don’t guilt easily.”

“I don’t think she’ll be surprised to hear that. Come on. The clothes are over here.”

They walked toward the storage room. Isabel paused to point out the suit in the side window. “That’s very you,” she said.

Taryn moved closer. “I love the zippers. Okay, I’ll try it on.”

“Did you notice the ball gown in the window? Lace and leather.”

“I did and I’m tempted, but I’m not sure where I’d wear it.” She smiled. “Not that I always need a reason to indulge myself. What the hell? Sure, bring them all in.”

With Madeline not working until later that afternoon and no other customers, Taryn was the only one in the store. Isabel put Taryn in a front dressing room, in the mother-of-the-bride room, so she could still hear if anyone walked in.

She wrestled the suit off the mannequin, collected the other two dresses and walked back toward the dressing area. Taryn had already removed her suit and heels and stood by the dressing room door in a push-up bra and bikini briefs.

Isabel instantly felt inadequate. The other woman’s thighs were perfectly firm and defined. Her midsection was lean, with a muscle shadow going down both sides. With her long hair loose and flowing, she looked more like a swimsuit model than an executive in her mid-thirties.

It was one thing for Consuelo to look amazing—the woman worked out constantly. But Taryn had the body of a goddesslike creature and spent her days in a regular job. Taryn was not only two inches taller, she was probably a size two or four and Isabel...wasn’t.

Isabel couldn’t decide if this moment of truth meant she should find a Pilates class somewhere or go get a doughnut.

“Try on the suit first,” she said, handing it over. “I’ll go get the ball gown out of the window.”

By the time she returned to the dressing room, Taryn was standing in front of the big mirror.

“I love this,” she said, turning back and forth.

Isabel had to admit the woman could wear clothes. The severe construction of the jacket gave it a more masculine air, while the zippers were an unexpected edgy touch. The combination made Taryn look incredibly sexy and dangerous at the same time.

“All you need is a whip,” Isabel joked.

“I can keep the boys in line verbally, but I like the idea of a whip for backup. They can be unruly.” She turned and looked at Isabel. “What’s up?”