Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)

He leaned in and kissed her. “New lip gloss? What’s the flavor?”


She stepped back. “This is serious.”

“So’s your lip gloss. Is it piña colada?”

“Yes, now listen. I’m staying.”

He looked at her as if he hadn’t understood what she’d said.

“I’m staying in Fool’s Gold. I’m going to expand Paper Moon and add a boutique.” She drew in a breath. “Obviously Sonia is a big part of why, but you are, too. I know this was just supposed to be pretend. But it’s not. At least not for me.” She twisted her fingers together.

“I’m in love with you, Ford. I think I have been since I was fourteen. At the very least, I’ve been waiting for you to come back. Or us to find each other. Either way, I love you.”

She had more she wanted to say, more she wanted to hear, but she didn’t get the chance. The affection fled his face and suddenly she was staring at the surprised features of an uncomfortable stranger.

He didn’t say anything. Not a single word. Instead he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. A few seconds later, the front door of the house closed and she was alone.

CHAPTER TWENTY

ISABEL WAS UNAWARE of the specifics when it came to the passage of time. She went through nights and days, she showed up at work and apparently made sense, but she wasn’t really there. Fortunately, there were no big decisions to be made, no orders to get right. She oversaw fittings and suggested veils and smiled when Madeline talked, but it was as if it were happening to someone else.

Friday she closed the store at six and headed home. The days were getting a little shorter. Lights were on in several of the houses in her neighborhood. She could see happy families gathering in kitchens and family rooms. But when she got to her house, it was dark. No lights, no Jeep with painted flames. Just a silent, empty house.

Ford was gone. He hadn’t said anything and then he’d left. She’d said the words he hadn’t wanted to hear, and she’d lost him forever.

She walked up the driveway, toward the back door. It was open, as always. Because this was Fool’s Gold and nothing bad ever happened here.

Only it had.

She walked into the kitchen and set her purse on the counter. After changing into jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, she started back toward the kitchen. Only once she got there, she didn’t want to eat. She sighed. Maybe having a broken heart would get rid of those stubborn ten pounds she was always trying to lose.

Someone knocked on the front door. She walked through the house knowing there was no way it was Ford. He would simply walk in the back, as he always did. Something else he wouldn’t be doing again. Something else she would have to get used to.

She opened the door and saw Jo standing there with a blender under each arm.

“Hey,” her friend said. “We heard and we’re here. I have a new recipe for rum slushies. I think they’re going to be a hit.”

Before Isabel could ask what was going on, over a dozen women spilled into the house, and everyone was carrying either food or alcohol.

Felicia followed with Dellina and Annabelle. Charlie ushered in Madeline, who hesitated.

“I’m the one who told,” she confessed.

Charlie nodded. “Madeline called and said what had happened.” She smiled at Madeline. “You would have been a lousy firefighter, but I hear you sell a mean dress and you’re an excellent friend.”

Isabel looked at Madeline. “How did you know?”

Madeline shrugged. “I’ve never seen you look so sad and broken. I didn’t know what to do, so I phoned Charlie. She arranged all this.”

Isabel felt herself fighting tears. She walked over to Madeline and hugged her, then turned to Charlie and did the same. The taller woman held her tight.

“All men are ass**les,” Charlie assured her.

“Not Clay.”

“He’s an exception, but we aren’t here to talk about him.”

Isabel stepped back and nodded. She knew that most of the women in the room would claim their husband or fiancé was an exception, but she was okay with that. Just because her heart was broken didn’t mean the rest of the world couldn’t be happy.

Maeve waddled in, looking more pregnant every time Isabel saw her. “He’s an idiot,” her sister said, hugging her. “I’m here for you.”

“Thanks.”

As always, Jo set up a bar in the kitchen. Drinks were poured, food dished and laid out. There were plates of brownies, plenty of cookies and ice cream. For the salty snackers, bowls of chips and dip were scattered around the living room. The blender went on and off with great regularity, and everyone declared the rum slushies a hit.

By her second one, Isabel went from crushed to crushed and buzzed, which turned out to be a better place. Somewhere around seven-thirty, Consuelo and Taryn walked in.

Consuelo rushed to Isabel’s side. “I’m sorry,” she said, sitting next to her on the sofa. “I just got the message. I had my phone turned off.”