When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)

The game started hard and fast and continued that way. Angel hadn’t played in a couple of years and found the stop-start of the game got his heart rate going. Nearly as fun as a run straight up the mountain, he thought, as he stole the ball from Ford and passed it to Sam, who scored.

The sun rose overhead. While the early morning was still cool, they were all soon sweating and swearing. Good thing the court was in a more industrial part of town, Angel thought humorously as Jack let loose a string of curse words that had Consuelo wagging her finger at him.

“You kiss your mama with that mouth?” she asked.

“Funny.” He tossed her the ball.

Angel turned, prepared to go after him. Just then Kenny gave a wolf whistle, then yelled, “Looking good, Taryn.”

Even as he told himself to focus on the game, he couldn’t help looking. Taryn was across the street, walking from the parking lot to the Score building. She wore a pale blue suit that hugged her body the way he wanted to. Her legs were long and bare, and she had on yet another pair of ridiculously high heels. These were beige with a white heel and screamed Come f**k me. How was he supposed to resist that?

Her hair hung down her back. She had a purse dangling off her forearm and a briefcase in her other hand. Keys jingled. She looked powerful, sexy and—

Something hard banged into the side of his head. He turned and saw Ford grinning at him as the basketball bounced away.

“Sorry, man,” Ford said, obviously not the least bit sorry. “I thought you were paying attention.”

Angel gave him the finger, then went after the ball. When he next looked across the street, Taryn was gone and the day seemed just a little less bright.

CHAPTER FIVE

TARYN GLANCED UP at the screen on the wall, then frowned. Normally she had one of her staff work on her PowerPoint slides, but she hadn’t been happy with this presentation from the beginning and was determined to get it right. After three tries from the graphic folks, she was tweaking it herself. What she didn’t understand was how what looked perfectly fine on her computer suddenly seemed to have less pop on the giant wall screen. Of course if it was a size issue, she should ask one of the boys, she thought with a grin. As men, they would be more sensitive to the topic.

“What’s so funny?”

She looked up and saw Sam had walked into the conference room. “Trying to get a presentation right,” she told him.

He glanced at the chart on the wall. “I fail to see the humor.”

She pressed her lips together rather than tease him by saying he usually did. In truth Sam had a good sense of humor. But right now he was frowning his “something isn’t right” frown.

“What’s up?” she asked as she rose and walked toward him.

He glanced down at her bare feet. “Why do you wear those shoes if they’re so uncomfortable?”

Because once again she’d kicked off her heels as soon as she’d gotten to her office. “They have a six-inch heel. Even with a one-and-a-half-inch platform, they’re hardly something I can wear all day.”

“Then why buy them?”

She rested her palm against the side of his face. “Did you see them? They’re works of art. Prada bicolor peep-toe pumps. They’re suede. Somewhere right now a poem is being written to those shoes.”

“But you can’t walk in them.”

“You can’t have sex with Miss April, but that doesn’t stop you from buying Playboy.”

Sam took her hand in his and lightly kissed her palm. “I haven’t bought Playboy since I was nineteen. You’re a very strange woman and I don’t understand your shoe obsession.”

She smiled. “But that’s not why you want to talk to me.”

“No, it’s not.”

Sam crossed to the glass door of the conference room and looked into the hall. Taryn didn’t think he was watching for anything in particular. Obviously whatever he had to say was difficult for him. With Sam, it could be anything. Jack tended to tell her everything, and Kenny shared the normal amount, but Sam often kept things to himself.

“How was the game this morning?” she asked, both to help him relax and also because there was an off chance he might mention Angel, and she would like that.

She’d been so careful not to stare while walking into the building. But once inside, she’d positioned herself so she could see the game. Angel had played well and the man looked good in shorts and nothing else. It was enough to give a girl ideas.

“Good. Intense. Have you met Consuelo?”

Taryn nodded. “Yes. I know who she is.”

“Plays a hell of a game.” He grinned. “I want her on my team all the time.”

Taryn had a feeling that if Sam asked, Consuelo would say yes, even if she were engaged. As a rule, women liked Sam. He was quiet but intense. Handsome. For those who found big men intimidating or just too bulky, Sam was the perfect combination of lean and muscled.