Three Little Words (25 page)

“Nice,” he said, handing it back to her.

She grinned. “But not sweet-potato pie?”

“Not even close.”

“What is it with guys and pie?”

“Like you don’t want any?”

“I’ll have some to be polite.”

He chuckled and put his arm around her.

Now that she was feeling better, he could stop thinking about how to fix her, which meant he could put more effort into forgetting all the ridiculous things Consuelo had said the other day.

At first her words had made him uncomfortable. He didn’t want to lead Isabel on, which he wasn’t doing. They’d both been clear on the fake-dating from the beginning. As for him being in love with her—he wasn’t that lucky. If he could be in love with anyone, he would want it to be her. But he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

He thought about how Leonard was secretly working out every day to impress his wife, and how his mom had mourned his dad for over a decade. His sisters were wild about their husbands, and when Ethan looked at Liz, he knew the rest of the world disappeared.

Why wouldn’t he want that? That intensity? That caring? Of course he did. But it wasn’t there. Never had been. He liked a woman for a while and then wanted to move on. That was who he was.

“I heard from Misaki and Kaori,” Isabel said as she finished her dessert and dropped the paper container into a recycling bin. “They’re really excited I’ve already sold two pieces. They’re making more. I really like working with them.” She smiled up at him. “Thank you. Bringing them to me was really thoughtful.”

“I know. You’re lucky to have me.”

She laughed and slipped her arm through his. “I am. I’m still confused about Sonia, but I’ll heal. I’ll learn from the mistake and move on.”

“I have no doubt. You’re strong with the Force.” He changed his voice to sound like Yoda from
Star Wars.
“There is much power in this one.”

She laughed again. “I appreciate the compliment, but I’m not sure it’s something I’ve earned.”

“Sure you have. You’re forgetting, I saw you grow up.”

They walked around a young couple with a double stroller. The little boys inside were obviously identical twins. An older girl sat on her father’s shoulders.

“Those letters,” she said with a groan. “I knew they’d come back to haunt me.”

“No haunting. You were a sweet girl. When you screwed up at UCLA, you took responsibility. You recognized what you’d done wrong and made amends. We can’t be perfect. That’s what I learned in my training. It’s not getting it right the first time—it’s learning to do it right and then not getting lazy. That’s what you did.”

“You’re giving me way too much credit.”

“No. It’s not just UCLA. You stopped writing me when you thought Eric was going to propose. There was nothing between us, but you wanted to do the right thing. I respect that.”

“I wasn’t sure what to do,” she admitted. “It’s just when I wrote you...” She shrugged, then smiled. “So you’re admitting you read them and liked them.”

“Yeah, I did. They got me through some tough times.” He paused and kissed her. “You always told me to stay safe.”

“I worried about you. No one knew where you were or what you were doing. It was scary. Worse for your family, but still.”

He remembered how he would tell himself he didn’t care about her letters, but that he always looked for them. That when they came, he saved them until he could have some quiet time by himself. That when something bad happened, he went back to the letters. That he wrapped a few in plastic and tucked them in the bottom of his backpack when he went on a mission.

“I made it through,” he said. “Now I’m home.”

“We’re all glad.”

A voice cut through their conversation.

“Yes, I know she’s an elephant.”

Ford stopped and turned toward the speaker. He saw Felicia staring down a tattooed man.

Felicia leaned closer, obviously not intimidated by the man’s glare. “Priscilla is a part of this community as much as anyone else. Heidi and her mother-in-law bought a special saddle so the children could ride Priscilla. This is a festival. Rides are a given.”

“Yeah, but now no one wants to ride my ponies.”

“Wouldn’t you rather ride an elephant than a pony?”

The man shuffled his feet. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Then why are you surprised?” Felicia drew in a breath. “But I understand you need to make a living at this, too. I’ll move you to the other side of the park. We’ll raise the ticket price on the elephant rides to cover an additional ride on your ponies. Then it becomes a two-for-one ticket. How’s that?”

The large, tattooed man nodded his head and kicked his booted foot into the sidewalk. “You know they’re good little guys. It’s not their fault they’re small.”

“I understand,” Felicia said, clutching a tablet in her arms. “Let me get those arrangements going for you.” She turned and saw them.

She walked briskly toward them. “Hello, Isabel. Ford. Please don’t tell me you two have a problem.”

“Not a one,” he assured her. “Just enjoying the show.”

Felicia drew in a breath. “I swear, he’s more worried about his ponies not getting all the attention than he is about losing money. Which probably speaks well for his character. But Priscilla has attention needs, too.” She made a noise low in her throat. “This is not a normal town. I suspect it’s why I fit in so well, but there are constant challenges. If you’ll excuse me, please.”

With that she walked away. Ford watched her go.

“I’ve seen her get men and equipment into places where all the experts said it couldn’t be done. If NASA really wants a colony on the moon within the next decade, they should talk to her.”

“I don’t think she wants to move,” Isabel told him.

“You’re right. Come on. I’ll buy you an elephant ear. All this talk of Priscilla has made me want one.”

“That is gross and we just had S’Mores.”

“You had S’Mores. Besides, they’re the last of the season.”

“You get one,” she said, leaning into him. “I’ll nibble.”

He could think of several things other than an elephant ear that he would like her to nibble on, but that was for later. He had big plans for tonight. A fire in the fireplace, some wine. Maybe a can of whipped cream.

He grinned as he imagined a naked Isabel holding the can and asking, “Where exactly is this supposed to go?”

But she would be game, as she always was. Given which team he preferred to play for, Eric wasn’t completely to blame for Isabel’s lack of sexual awakening. Ford supposed if he had to say, he was a little bit pleased that he’d been the one to teach her how much fun intimacy could be.

“You know we need a pumpkin for the porch,” Isabel told him as they walked toward the food carts. “Maybe a couple. I hate to admit this, but I haven’t carved a pumpkin in years. Do you know how? I don’t want to have the only freak pumpkins on the street.”

“It’s going to be Halloween. Freaks are a good thing.”

“Yeah, but I’m afraid mine would be freakishly bad.”

“I know how to carve a pumpkin. I did it as a kid, and sometimes when I was deployed, they’d fly in pumpkins.”

“Marking the seasons?”

“As best they could.”

Fool’s Gold was about as far from Iraq and Afghanistan as a guy could get. He’d thought he would have trouble fitting in, but he hadn’t. Mostly because of Isabel, he realized. She’d been his buffer.

As they stood in line for elephant ears, he found himself wanting to ask her to stay. But he couldn’t. Not only was New York her dream, but he had nothing to offer in return.

He had to let her go—he owed her. She’d given him the haven he hadn’t known he needed.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

G
ENERALLY
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?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re not your usual upbeat self. Did something happen?”

Isabel wasn’t pleased to be told she was pouting enough for people to notice. “Sorry. Personal stuff.”

Taryn stepped off the podium and walked toward her. “Like what? How can I help?”

“You can’t, but I appreciate the offer.”

Taryn raised perfectly groomed eyebrows, as if she were planning to wait Isabel out.

“I had a business partner in New York. When I left here, I was going to open a store with her. Trendy, upscale. She was the designer. I brought in the plan and retail experience. She found someone else and dumped me.”

“I hate breakups,” Taryn told her sympathetically. “I’m sorry. But at the risk of sounding sanctimonious, you’re better off without her. If she’d do that now, she’d do it later. And then you’d be in a huge financial mess. Trust me. Partners have unintended consequences.”

“Like ending up in Fool’s Gold?”

Taryn shrugged. “Exactly like that.” She tugged on the hem of the jacket. “There are other designers out there. Look at this one. I doubt your friend was a whole lot more talented.”

Isabel hadn’t thought of it that way. “You’re right,” she said slowly. “Actually, it’s two designers. Sisters.”

“Better and better. Plus, there’s the one you met through Dellina. So screw the other bitch and start over with a stable of fantastically talented designers. I know it’s a cliché, but success is the best revenge.” She paused. “Or is it sex? I can never remember.”

Isabel laughed. “It’s success.”

“Oh, well, I suppose they’re both enjoyable.” She shrugged out of her jacket, apparently comfortable in her body. “What about staying here? You have this store already. It gives you a built-in cash flow.”

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Isabel admitted, taking the jacket while Taryn slipped out of the skirt. “Fool’s Gold will never be anyone’s idea of a fashion capital, but the start-up costs would be less. I’m still not sure. I worry that not going back to New York is too much like giving up. Death of a dream and all that.”

“Death of a dream?” Taryn asked, taking the ball gown and stepping into it. “Dramatic much?”

Isabel laughed. “Point taken. I’ve been wallowing. I guess it’s time to decide.”

“There are positive aspects to this wretched little town,” Taryn told her. “Even I can admit that. The boys love it, and you have a growing population. There’s plenty of industry coming in. You could talk to the Lucky Lady people and see if they would let you put a display window in the resort area. That would drive traffic to your store.”

Something Isabel had never thought of. Whatever she was going to say next was erased from her mind when Taryn whipped off her bra and handed it to Isabel, then pulled up the dress and slipped her arms into the capped sleeves.

It wasn’t that seeing another woman’s breasts shocked her; it was that Taryn was so comfortable with her body. Isabel didn’t mind being naked around Ford, mostly because he obviously enjoyed what he was looking at. But in a dressing room? Isabel would be the one changing behind closed doors.

Which was a statement about her, she realized. Her fears and how she judged herself. Her friends wouldn’t care.

Taryn presented her back. “I can’t reach the zipper,” she said.

Isabel pulled it up the last few inches, then adjusted the deep V in the back. She hung the suit over the back of a chair and faced her friend.

The dress was amazing. Layers and layers of champagne-colored lace with unexpected edges in black leather. The cap sleeves were young and sweet, yet the front dipped nearly to Taryn’s waist and exposed the inner sides of her breasts. At the same time, there was too much fabric around the hips.

“I know someone who does tailoring,” Isabel said, going into gown-selling mode. She studied Taryn critically, then reached for the ever-present dish of pins.

“If we took it in here and here,” she said, pinning as she talked, tightening the dress through Taryn’s rib cage, waist and rear. She eyed the bodice. “Is the front going to work?”

Taryn glanced down. “It’s more wide than low. I feel like I’m one quick turn away from a wardrobe malfunction.” She turned back and forth, and sure enough, one of her breasts popped out.

“That would make you popular at any event,” Isabel murmured.

Taryn tucked her breast back in place. “Tape?”

“No. It’s a design flaw. I’ll call Misaki and talk to her about putting a band across the front somewhere. The dress has to be anchored. You’re wearing it in the real world, not simply walking down a runway. Movement is required.”

Taryn nodded. “I think a stripe of black leather right between my breasts would be perfect. Have I mentioned I love this dress?”

The front door opened and Dellina walked in.

“Hi, I brought—” Her eyes widened. “OMG, look at that dress. It’s stunning.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s from those other designers, isn’t it? Damn, they’re good. It’s kind of low in the front, though, isn’t it? No, not too low. Too wide. Although the side cleavage is very sexy.”

“I flash people when I move,” Taryn said. “We need a fix.”

“So they’re not perfect,” Isabel told Dellina. “Is that a relief?”

“A big one.” Dellina waved her large portfolio and smiled at Taryn. “I have some preliminary ideas based on what you gave me.”

“Wonderful.” Taryn presented her back so Isabel could unzip her. “We’re down to three locations that are a good fit for us,” she said as she stepped out of the gown and started to dress. “One of them is in a warehouse. Right next to CDS.”

Isabel grinned. “Because the potential sound of gunfire is exciting to them?”

“Apparently.” She handed Isabel the gown. “The other thrill of the warehouse is the boys want enough space to put in a basketball court, which I am desperately opposed to, but am once again outvoted.” She finished fastening her bra, then held up her hand. “No. I’m wrong. It’s only a half court. So why would I complain?”

“A basketball court?” Isabel got a hanger for the gown. “Won’t that be loud?”

“And annoying. There’s a sound to try to work by, the constant thump-thump of the ball on cement. I’m going to have to kill at least one of them. I see that now.”

Dellina laughed. “I do have one basketball-court-free option.”

“I wish, but they’ll never go for it.”

Dellina looked at Isabel. “I heard about what happened with your designer friend in New York. I’m sorry.”

“Me, too, but I’m dealing.”

Dellina pulled a couple of sheets from her portfolio. “I hope I didn’t overstep my bounds, but I did a couple of quick sketches using the space next door for nonbridal clothes. It wouldn’t be an expensive remodel, and you can get a lot more in there than you’d think. Especially if you use the dressing rooms you already have.”

Isabel took the papers and glanced at the designs. They were clean and well thought out. She immediately saw the potential and how the two stores would flow together.

“I like this,” she said. “Give me some time to look them over. Then maybe we could talk. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but...”

She pressed her lips together. The song in her head had disappeared, because she did know what she was going to do. The answer was ridiculously simple. Fool’s Gold offered her everything she could possibly want. Friends, a new business and a place to belong.

“I’m staying,” she said softly, not sure she believed the words, yet knowing they were right. “I’m staying,” she repeated more firmly.

“I’m so glad,” Dellina said, hugging her. “We have to talk later. I have a thousand ideas about the store.”

Taryn watched them both, then looked at Isabel. “You and I should talk, as well. You’re going to need capital. However much money you have put away, it’s not enough.”