When We Met
Taryn had met him the summer between his first and second winning seasons. He’d been hot, in every sense of the word.
Now she looked at the young man he’d been and wondered at the differences.
“He was a baby,” Larissa said with a laugh.
“That he was.”
The DVD played on. The scene switched to Kenny and then Sam having the same conversation, although Kenny hadn’t gone until the second round and Sam had been right after him. Rare for a kicker.
Taryn had seen the interviews dozens of times, but they were still fun to watch. Sam, not wanting to give anything away, and Kenny both excited and concerned. The former because he was going to be a star and the latter because of what was happening at home.
Twenty-two, Taryn thought, doing the math. Kenny was a father-to-be by then. Or so he’d thought.
The door to the TV room opened and the men in question entered. They were older now. All in their mid-thirties. Former players in suits that cost more and fit better. They weren’t as muscled, but they were all still fit.
Jack crossed to Taryn. “You remembered.”
She thought of the red notice on her computer and held in a need to wince. “I know this day is tough for you.”
“A lot of memories.”
She handed him the remotes. They would watch the coverage of their own NFL draft before switching over to view today’s draft live. They would drink beer and tell stories and get absolutely no work done. Which was okay. They’d earned the break.
Taryn left them and went back to her office. She glanced at her phone and saw she’d received a text from Angel. It showed a picture of a rock-climbing wall. At least she assumed that’s what it was. She’d only seen them in the movies or on TV. Next to the picture were a place and time.
She smiled. “You’re not one for picking up the phone, are you?”
A second text came through. You helped me. Now I help you.
A man with a sense of fair play, she thought. That was something she could appreciate.
* * *
LATE SATURDAY MORNING Angel arrived at the sports center by the Lucky Lady Casino and Resort. From what he’d heard, the rock-climbing wall was a new addition. There were plenty of cars parked out front. He maneuvered his Harley to the parking lot on the side, then tucked his helmet under his arm as he headed around front. He saw Taryn walking toward the entrance.
She’d dressed appropriately—a loose T-shirt and some kind of fitted workout pants that left virtually nothing to the imagination. His gaze lingered on the length of her legs and the curve of her butt. He barely noticed her athletic shoes or that she’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail. It was only when he realized she’d come to a stop and had put her hands on her h*ps that he raised his attention to her face.
Both eyebrows were raised. “Really?” she asked. “You can’t be more subtle?”
Caught red-handed, so to speak, and he had no one to blame but himself, he thought with a grin. “I’m unrepentant. You’re more temptation than the average man can handle.”
“And here I was hoping for better than average.”
In flat shoes, she was several inches shorter than him, which he liked. He took her by her wrist and tugged her around the side of the building, then put his helmet on the sidewalk, cupped her face in both her hands and kissed her.
They were in a public place, in the middle of the afternoon. Not exactly conducive to a make-out session, but what the hell? He’d wanted to kiss Taryn from the first second he’d seen her last fall. He’d done his best to play things smart, but how was he supposed to resist her when she looked the way she did and sassed him on a regular basis?
Her mouth was soft and yielding. A bit of a surprise, but maybe she wasn’t nearly as tough as she pretended. She put her hands on his sides. The touch was light, as if she wanted connection but didn’t need his help to stay standing. Which would be just like her.
He brushed his mouth back and forth, exploring her, getting a feel for how it was going to be between them. Then, when the wanting started to grow, he drew back. He stared into her smoldering violet-blue eyes, pleased to see she’d been as intrigued as he had. He was about to kiss her again when a minivan pulled into a nearby parking space and about sixty kids tumbled out of the vehicle.
Taryn followed his gaze. “I never want that,” she said.
“Kids?”
“A minivan.” She shuddered.
“Because it would mean surrendering your identity?”
“Because no one needs that many cup holders. My assistant’s kids are all grown and she still drives a minivan because she loves it. She brags about the twelve cup holders. Whenever she runs an errand she goes on and on about how much she can hold. It’s not natural.”
He chuckled and put his arm around her. “The same could be said about your shoe collection. Do you really need that many? And those heels can’t be good for you.”
She glanced at him. “Angel?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a favorite pair of my heels?”
He thought about how she looked in them and shook his head. “They’re all good.”
“Imagine what it would be like if I was wearing them...and nothing else.”
They’d been walking toward the entrance. He stumbled and had to catch himself as the image she’d planted in his brain blossomed to life size and beckoned him closer. Was it him or was it hot out here? A na**d Taryn in five-inch heels. That kind of reality had the power to kill a man.
He swore quietly. She smiled.
“Ever going to mock my shoes again?” she asked sweetly.
“Hell, no.”
“Then my work here is done.”
“Remind me to congratulate your partners for surviving as long as they have,” he grumbled.
She was still laughing when they stepped into the sports center.
Despite the fact that there was a festival going on in town, there were plenty of people wanting to rent racquetball courts or hit baseballs. Angel guided Taryn to the back where they would check in for the rock-climbing wall that dominated the center of the building.
“Ever done this before?” he asked.
“No, and I don’t see the point now. The Living Life at a Run guy isn’t going to make us climb the side of a mountain.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I’m pretty sure. We don’t have those kinds of mountains around here.”
She was right, which impressed him. He wouldn’t have guessed she paid attention to her environment beyond whether or not it was comfortable.
“Rock climbing helps with coordination and upper body strength,” he told her. “Plus, you can talk about it and you’ll seem like a jock.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Oh, joy. Because my life has been so empty without that.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were signed up. Taryn hesitated before signing the waiver, then scribbled her name. She only gulped once when she saw she would be wearing rented climbing shoes.
“Just like bowling,” she murmured. “How lovely.”
But the joke was on him when she put her keys and cell phone in a small locker, then pulled off the loose T-shirt. Because underneath she had on a formfitting tank top cut low enough to make it hard for him to concentrate. It was going to be a long afternoon, he thought.
* * *
TARYN HAD ACCEPTED the rented shoes, the noise coming from the other areas of the facility and the harness that was snug in places that hadn’t seen action in a long time. Although after that very brief, very intense kiss earlier, she was hoping to have that chance soon. But what she wouldn’t accept was Angel’s silent laughter as she clung halfway up the damn fake rock, unable to move up or down.
“Raise your right hand,” he said from his position next to her. “Reach out.”
Which sounded oh, so easy, she thought grimly. She told herself she was secure. That there was some broad-shouldered college kid holding on to the rope that was clipped to her harness. Should she start to slip, he would catch her. Or at least hold on to her rope and lower her gently to the floor. Only she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stretch out to the next hold and she couldn’t trust enough to let go.
Angel moved closer and put his hand on top of hers. “Come on,” he said, his tone more gentle. “I’ll help.”
She didn’t want his help. She wanted to be somewhere else.
“I can do it,” she told him, trying to shake off his touch without releasing her hand. An impossible task.
“It’s only a few inches away,” he told her.
Her arms and shoulders ached from the unaccustomed movements. Her legs were starting to tremble. Around them monkey children shot up to the top at lightning speed, calling out to each other as they went. She caught sight of an older couple making way more progress than she was.
“I’m going to kill Kenny and Jack,” she muttered, stretching out her arm so she could grab on to the next hold. “I’m going to get something heavy and beat them with it until they—”
Gravity was an unforgiving mistress. One second Taryn had a firm hold on the bumpy outcroppings of the fake rock, and the next she was falling toward the earth. She had no idea how far the floor was or how much it was going to hurt when she hit. Well before impact, she suddenly jerked to a stop as the guy holding her line stopped her fall.
The harness cut into her crotch, her h*ps and her side. She felt burns in places that should never see that much friction. She dangled, arms and legs frantically crawling for purchase, and then she was moving again, more slowly this time until she touched the floor.
The second she was on her feet, her spotter rushed toward her.
“You okay?” he asked. “You didn’t scream. When people fall, they always scream.”
Taryn felt the adrenaline rush flood her and knew it was just a matter of time until she was looking for a quiet place to curl up and be sick. Angel expertly lowered himself and hurried toward her.
“You all right?”
She nodded, determined not to let anyone see she was shaken. “I slipped and now I’m fine.”
He looked at her for a second, then nodded. “Climbing isn’t your sport.” He reached for the clip on her harness.
She stepped back. “No. I’m going to do it again.”
“Taryn, you fell.”
“I know. Now I have to get to the top of the stupid thing. Then I’m never coming back.” She glanced at the guy holding her line. “No offense.”
“None taken.”
* * *
ANGEL REMEMBERED THE first time he’d seen Taryn. She’d been in one of her suits and ridiculous high heels. She’d been crossing the street, not in a crosswalk. With her confident stride, long dark hair and steady gaze, she’d captured the attention of every man who could see her. He’d half expected one of those movie car crashes because when Taryn was around it was difficult to see anything else.
She ran a successful business, so he knew she had a brain, but until this morning, he hadn’t realized she had a spine made of steel. Because despite the fall, she’d gotten back on the rock wall and made her way to the top. It hadn’t been fast or elegant, but she’d made it. When she’d reached the floor again, she’d unfastened the harness, stepped out of the straps, walked over to a nearby trash can and promptly thrown up.
She had the heart of a warrior, he thought as he pulled up in front of her house. She did the job and handled the fear later.
He parked his Harley and walked toward her door. They’d agreed to go to the Spring Festival after they’d both gone home and changed clothes.
The front door opened and Taryn stepped out. She’d replaced her skintight workout clothes with skintight jeans. Nice, he thought, wishing she would turn around so he could look at her ass. Studying the curves had a way of anchoring him in a very good place.
She had on some kind of sweater set. The bottom piece was tight enough to be interesting, but not so tight that she couldn’t fit in with the families that would be flooding downtown. He glanced down and saw that for once, she’d put on boots with only a two-inch heel.
She followed his gaze and raised her eyebrows. “Making sure I’m able to walk long distances?”
“Didn’t know if you expected to be carried.”
“I understand the concept of the festivals,” she told him, checking to make sure the door was locked then joining him on the walkway. “I’ve been to several. I bid on casseroles at the Great Casserole Cook-off in February.”
“Did you win?”
She tilted her head. “Seriously? You have to ask?”
“Apparently not. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. I had a couple of crackers and sparkling water. I’m better.” Her mouth twisted. “Is this the awkward part of the conversation where I point out I brushed my teeth when I got home?” She looked away. “I can’t believe I threw up. Or fell. Or any of it.”
“You thought you were going to crash into the floor. You reacted. We’ve all done it.”
“Fall off a fake mountainside? I don’t think so.”
“It’s not the mistake,” he told her, reaching for her hand. “It’s what you do once you realize you’ve screwed up. You got back on the horse. Or in this case, the mountain.”
She started to pull her hand away, then paused and looked at him. He sensed she was about to make a decision. He wanted her to choose him. After what felt like a lifetime, she relaxed and laced her fingers with his.
“I feel like a prize idiot.”
“That’s the best kind of idiot to be.”