“I’m happy to help.” Isabel told herself she needed to spend more time with her sister, to be there when she could.

Maeve wiped her face and took a drink of the water. “I love my life. Really I do. Leonard is the best man in the world and my kids are great, but sometimes I get so envious of you.”

“Of me? Why? I’m a disaster.”

“You’re not. You’re single and don’t have many responsibilities.”

“Or ties. I’m divorced and I don’t even have a cat to keep me company.”

“But you have a career.”

“I work in our parents’ business. That’s not going to put me on the cover of Fortune magazine.”

“No, but your new business will. You have it all.”

“No, you do.”

They stared at each other and started to laugh.

“Better?” Isabel asked gently.

Her sister nodded.

“Good.” Isabel walked over to the counter and put two slices of bread on a plate.

“I talked to Mom earlier,” Maeve told her. “They’re having a great time. She says they should have done this years ago.”

“She’s probably right.”

Maeve sighed. “I hope Leonard and I are like them. Always in love.”

“You’ve survived four kids so far. I’m pretty sure you’re going to make it.”

Her sister winced. “I’m sorry. That was insensitive.”

It took Isabel a second to realize what she meant. “My relationship with Eric was doomed from the start. The mistake was not recognizing the problem to begin with.” She paused, then turned so she was facing Maeve. “I’m going to tell you something, but first you have to promise not to tell Mom and Dad. I don’t want them to have to deal with this until they’re home.”

Maeve’s blue eyes widened as she nodded. “Sure.”

Isabel turned back to the sandwich. “Eric was gay.”

After her sister was done sputtering and calling him names, Isabel explained what had happened.

“I don’t believe he didn’t know,” Maeve fumed. “He had to have had an inkling. That doesn’t just happen. It’s not a lightning strike. I can’t believe he betrayed you like that.”

“I’m getting over it.”

“With Ford?”

Isabel finished with the sandwich and carefully sliced it in two, then carried the plate over to the table. “I guess it’s too late to ask if you’re okay with that,” she said quietly.

Maeve reached for the food. With her other hand, she waved the comment away. “Oh, please. We were done over a decade ago. Have at him.”

Isabel put the supplies back in the refrigerator, then joined her sister at the table. “He’s a pretty great guy.”

“I remember.” Maeve grinned. “Don’t tell him but the sex wasn’t all that. I wasn’t his first time, but he was mine and all I remember thinking is ‘I thought it would take longer than this.’”

Isabel grinned. “We’re not really dating.”

Maeve finished chewing and swallowed. “What? Sure you are. I’ve seen you two together. You are definitely dating.”

“We’re fake-dating.” She explained about Denise and how Ford had begged.

“Not that I don’t approve of a man begging,” her sister began, “but, Isabel, be careful. I’ve seen the way you look at him, and you’re not in a fake relationship.”

“That’s what I’ve been thinking, too. I didn’t want to fall for him, but he’s so funny and easy to be with. He’s thoughtful in little ways that are so unexpected.”

“All perfect if this was a regular relationship, but trouble when it’s not. Are you sure you’re leaving? Maybe Ford is worth sticking around for.”

“I’m not changing my plans for him,” Isabel said firmly. In part because she really did want to open a business with Sonia, but also because she had a feeling Ford meant what he said. That he wasn’t interested in love. Which meant sticking around would only lead to heartache.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“YOU CAN’T AVOID my mother forever,” Kent said.

Consuelo studied the display in the window of Morgan’s Books. “I can and I will.”

Kent grabbed her hand and gently twisted it behind her back, bringing her up against him. She had to tilt her head to continue to stare into his eyes.

She could have broken the hold a dozen different ways, could have had him in any number of holds that would cut off air or blood flow. She wondered if the knowledge of how to do that would ever fade. If she would ever be like the other women who walked through town on this perfect fall day. Or if she would always feel different.

“She’s interested in the woman I’m seeing,” he said.

“Then I can send her regular email updates.”

He smiled.

People smiled all the time, she thought, unable to brace herself for the kick in the gut she always felt when he did that. Kent’s smile was special. It made her feel as if she were the center of a very amazing universe. One where only good things happened.

She knew the folly of believing that, but she couldn’t protect herself. Not where he was concerned. If only her heart were at stake, she would probably be fine. But when she was around him, she felt as if he held her entire being in the palm of his hand. How could she trust him not to crush her into dust?

“Oh, look,” she said brightly, pointing. “Your sister-in-law has a new book out. Let’s go buy it.”

“If you’d like.” He bent down and lightly kissed her mouth, then guided her into the store.

Five minutes later, she had a bag with Liz Sutton’s latest murder mystery. Kent had insisted on paying, which was just like him.

“You should consider an eReader,” he said when they were back on the sidewalk.

“I like books.” Someone passing by said hello, and she paused to return the greeting. “This town is so strange. People I’ve never met before talk to me like they know me. But the weirdest part is I’m starting to like it.”

“But do you like me?”

He was joking. At least, she thought he was. She glanced at him and saw questions in his eyes. They came to a stop again, this time by a bench. Kent pulled her onto the wooden seat.

“Of course,” she said. “Why would you ask?”

“You’re elusive.”

“I’m completely open.” She pressed her lips together, realizing that was far from the truth. “I mean to be.”

“Well, then,” he teased. “That must be enough.”

She looked at her hand in his. His fingers were longer, broader. He was tall and strong, which was nice. If she broke her leg, he could carry her for a long time.

The ridiculous thought made her think of Felicia. She would think Kent was good to have around. That his combination of intelligence and strength would add to the social unit. That even if he wasn’t a traditional warrior, he would be a formidable opponent.

She laced her fingers with his. “Your family scares me. I know Ford and he’s fine, but the rest of them... They’ve lived here their whole lives. They’re close. Traditional.”

“Are you worried you won’t fit in?”

“Some.” All, she thought. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Not possible. I’ve seen you eat and you know how to use a napkin.”

She laughed. “Thank you for your faith in my table manners.” She kept his hand in hers but angled toward him. “I don’t want your mom to tell you to stop seeing me.”

“She wouldn’t. You’re adorable. Besides, I’m thirty-four. She stopped getting involved in my love life a couple of decades ago.”

Consuelo raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure? Because just a couple of months ago, the woman had a booth with applications to be your girlfriend.”

He grinned. “Oh, yeah. I forgot. But she’s learned her lesson.”

“Has she?”

“Even if she hasn’t, I’ll protect you. Besides, I’m the one putting it on the line if we hang out with my family. They’re going to tell you stories about me.”

“That sounds fun. What kinds of stories?”

She figured he would admit to a childish prank or say he hadn’t started dating until college. She didn’t expect him to clear his throat and admit, “When I was younger, I was kind of a dog when it came to women.”

Consuelo had a feeling her shock showed. “What does that mean?”

He shrugged. “I figured out girls were pretty cool in tenth grade. I had something of a reputation. In college, I, um, took advantage of the target-rich environment. I’m not proud of what I did,” he added hastily. “I’m different now. More mature. When I was in a relationship, I was always faithful. I never cheated on my ex-wife.” He looked both embarrassed and proud as he admitted to his past.

“An unexpected side of you.”

He nodded. “It’s being a math teacher. People assume I’m shy around women. I get a little nervous at the beginning, but once things get going...” He paused.

“Go on,” she urged, intrigued.

“I’m going to quit while I’m ahead.”

“Afraid your mouth is going to write checks your, um, other parts can’t cash?”

“Something like that. It has occurred to me that you’re completely out of my league.”

He was joking, but she knew he was right. Being a sex god in high school didn’t compare to her past.

“Any tattoos?” he asked.

The unexpected question jerked her out of her worries and brought her back to the man in front of her. She smiled. “Two.”

His eyebrows rose. “What and where?”

“I’m not telling.”

“Building anticipation. I like that.”

She laughed.

Kent put his arm around her and drew her close, then leaned in and kissed her. She let herself relax as her eyes slowly closed. His mouth was warm and sure as it settled on hers.

They were out in public—nothing was going to happen, which was both good and bad. Good because for some reason the thought of ha**g s*x with Kent terrified her and bad because being close to him made her want him.

Even as his lips lightly teased her own, she felt heat growing in all the usual places. She hadn’t been with a man in a long time. She hadn’t been with a man she liked in a couple of years. She wanted to lose herself in the act of connecting with a man and not have to worry about extracting information or making her escape. She wanted to make love in a house in the suburbs and wake up to the sound of birds chirping or kids laughing rather than make her way back to a dark and empty safe house.

She drew back and stared into his face. His eyes crinkled as he smiled at her.

“Have I mentioned you’re totally hot?” he asked.

She grinned. “Not lately and I was wondering if you’d changed your mind.”

“No. You’re still amazing.” The smile faded. “Not just because of how you look. I want to make sure you know I like who you are.”

She hoped that was true.

She took his hands in hers. With the right training, he could become a killing machine. Funny how that thought would never occur to him. He wouldn’t hit a woman, wouldn’t shame her. Based on how Reese grumbled about the rules at home, she knew Kent was fair and reasonable, even when angry.

“Maybe I should meet your mother,” she admitted. “She did a really good job with you.”

He laughed. “Interesting logic. I’ll give you a couple of days to be sure before I set something up.”

Of course he would.

* * *

“TELL ME IT’S going to be beautiful,” Madeline requested, sounding doubtful.

Isabel pulled the white dress from what seemed like an impossibly small box. “It is. Four hours of ironing from now, it will be perfect.”

It was Wednesday morning and they’d just gotten in a big shipment of dresses. While it would be nice if they were sent in hanging boxes, stuffed with tissue and arrived in perfect condition, that wasn’t true. Most came folded, which meant wrinkles and creases and plenty of fluffing.

“I see I’m going to be busy for the next few days,” Madeline said with a grin. “That’s good. Shipping day secures my employment.”

Isabel laughed. “Absolutely.”

Later in the week they were due to get veils, silk wreaths and a few tiaras, but nothing compared to the work of getting a gown ready for her bride.

“The secret is never to let the client see her gown straight out of the box. She’ll never recover from the shock.” Isabel carefully unwrapped a beautiful silk gown with plenty of lace and layers. Yup, she and Madeline would be working late this week.

Thanks to her grandmother’s planning, the back room was big enough to hold a long garment rack. As each dress was unpacked, it was hung up. A few of the wrinkles would fall out on their own, but the rest required gentle ironing and steaming.

“It’s fun to see what’s new,” Madeline said, pulling out another dress. “The changes in the styles. Some are subtle, but there are still differences from year to year.”

“As long as we have variety,” Isabel murmured. “I hate it when stores focus on a single style, like strapless ball gowns. Even though I love them, they’re not going to look good on everyone. Every bride deserves to be beautiful.”

“You’re good at that,” Madeline told her. “Finding the right dress for the right client.”