When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)

“You could take it on as a cause,” Taryn told her.

“I could, but you got there first.” She leaned in. “So, what do you know about Angel? Other than he got you a really unusual flower.”

“He’s with the bodyguard school, he’s a former sniper, he was married.”

“That’s right. He’s the widower. Any kids?”

“I don’t know. None in town.”

“Why do you like him?”

“I’m not sure I do.”

Larissa shook her head. “Fine. Why are you interested in him? I think he’s kind of scary.”

Taryn thought about all the easy answers. That he was attractive and sexy. That he’d made the first move. That she was pretty sure there was chemistry. That Jack was right and she needed to put herself out there. Although Jack had been talking about making girlfriends rather than taking a lover, but still.

“He doesn’t need me to take care of him,” she said at last, speaking the absolute truth.

“Unlike the boys.” Larissa nodded. “That makes sense. It’s just I’ve always sort of pictured you with a banker.”

“Another man in a suit? No, thanks. Been there, done that over and over again.”

She didn’t want someone like her. She didn’t want someone from her world. Angel was different in every way possible. When he looked at her with those cool gray eyes, she had no idea what he was thinking. That was kind of fun. She just hoped it didn’t mean he was a serial killer.

“I guess it’s okay,” Larissa said slowly. “Everybody in town seems to like him, so he must be a nice guy.”

“Tell me you haven’t been asking about him.”

“Just a little.”

Taryn held in a groan at the thought of her personal life being discussed.

“I was discreet,” Larissa protested.

“Uh-huh. Is there anyone you won’t talk to?”

“No, and that’s why you love me.”

* * *

TARYN LEFT WORK early so she would have time to get ready for her date with Angel. She drove the short distance to her house and parked in the single-car garage.

Usually she preferred condo living—less maintenance for her—but when the company had relocated to Fool’s Gold, she’d decided to try a house.

The place was small—only two bedrooms, but they were both a nice size. The house had been remodeled pretty much from the ground up, so she had a new kitchen and a nice walk-in shower in the bathroom. Surprisingly, the feature that most appealed to her was the garden. An old-fashioned stone fence surrounded the backyard. There was a patio and several raised plant beds. She’d never grown anything before in her life, but she’d started doing some research and was thinking of planting some flowers and a few vegetables.

Now Taryn walked through the kitchen. She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot down the hallway and into the master. Although the house had been updated, most of the Craftsman touches had been left in place, including the built-in bookcase by the stone fireplace across from her bed. The fence out back was high enough that she didn’t have to pull her drapes for privacy, which allowed a lot of light into the room. She shrugged out of her jacket, then unzipped her skirt and let it fall to the carpet. She removed her blouse, then put on a robe and walked into the bathroom.

She wore her black hair long and loose. Minimal daily products, plenty of conditioner and weekly scalp treatments kept her hair in decent shape. She’d been pleasantly surprised to discover that she could get her favorite hair gloss applied every six weeks here, just as she had done back in L.A.

She pulled her hair back in a cloth headband and washed her face. Then she reapplied her makeup, paying close attention to her eyes. She was going to be wearing black, so she wanted to emphasize her eye shape and color. When she was done with that, she applied a faint shimmering body lotion to her chest, shoulders, arms and legs.

After penciling in a nearly nude lip color, she returned to her bedroom and stepped into the closet. She already knew what she was going to wear—she’d made her decision as soon as she’d seen the invitation. If Angel wanted to play games, she was willing to play them with him. But she was equally determined that she would be the winner.

To that end, she removed her bra and then stepped into the strapless black dress she’d chosen. From the front, it was simple—fitted and nearly to the knee. But in the back it dipped to hip level. Every time she moved, the fabric shifted as if the viewer were going to see something he shouldn’t. A killer dress, she thought with a smile. Perfect for a former sniper.

The best part was she would pair the dress with a classic black blazer. With the jacket, the outfit was conservative enough for work. But without...