“Neither would Ford,” Isabel admitted.

“Your men love you the way you are,” Taryn reminded them. “And my attitude comes with a price.”

She smiled at them, as if joining in the joke, but she knew she was telling the truth. She copped an attitude because sometimes it was all she had to get her through. She’d learned early not to trust people and that the world could be a cold, unfeeling place. Pretending a strength she didn’t always have had gotten her through more than once. Now that she was in a place where maybe she could relax a little, she didn’t know how to let down her guard. At least not all the way.

She’d made friends here, and she was grateful. But every now and then she looked at women like Patience and Isabel and envied them. They were loved and could love in return. What would that be like? Not the friendship kind of love, but the romantic kind. Where she was the most important person in someone’s life. Where there was commitment and sharing and the promise of always.

For a second she thought about Angel, then shook her head. She knew better. He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking and she’d been through too much to ever see the romance of wanting what she couldn’t have.

They were good together, the sex was impressive and he didn’t get on her nerves. For her, that was plenty and she was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

THE INVITATION HAD been very clear. Young ladies were to wear dresses to the mother-daughter tea. Taryn took that to mean that older ladies were to do the same.

She appreciated the chance to wear her Naeem Khan print organza cocktail dress. She’d fallen in love with the off-the-shoulder black-and-white-print silk dress a few months ago and hadn’t figured out where she could wear it. Okay, sure, it might be a little over-the-top for the event, but she didn’t care. The full skirt made her feel like an extra in a 1950s movie. She’d slipped on her Pedro Garcia Candela sandals and twisted her hair up in a bun. Simple pearl studs finished off the look.

All the groves were seated around tables in a smaller ballroom at Ronan’s Lodge. The girls were dressed in spring pastels. Some mothers had also gone all out, putting on pretty dresses. A few were in jeans and shirts. Humorously, there was only one man at the event. A dark-haired gentleman with gray eyes and a pained expression.

Taryn walked up to Angel. “Stop looking for the exit,” she told him.

He cleared his throat, then fingered the collar of his black shirt as if he wanted to loosen his tie. Only he wasn’t wearing one.

“I’m not,” he told her.

“You’re about thirty seconds away from succumbing to flop sweat.”

Those cool gray eyes settled on her. “I’ve never had flop sweat in my life.”

“There’s a first time for everyone.” She turned and smiled as Regan walked over, her mother in tow.

The pretty seven-year-old beamed at Angel. “This is my mom. Mom, this is Angel, our Grove Keeper. And Taryn. She’s helping him.”

Regan’s mother was probably a couple of years older than Taryn and had on a wide wedding band. But that didn’t stop her from batting her eyes at Angel.

“Regan says so much about you,” she gushed. “You’re doing a wonderful job with all the girls.” As she spoke, she put her hand on Angel’s forearm. “If you need any extra help, you can give me a call.”

If Angel hadn’t looked so nervous, Taryn might have been annoyed. Since when had she become invisible? But her irritation was tempered by amusement.

“Oh, look,” she said, glancing toward the entrance. “Felicia is here. I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t leave me,” Angel said through gritted teeth.

Taryn beamed at him. “Regan, you and your mom will take good care of him, won’t you?”

The little girl nodded vigorously.

Angel shot Taryn a look that promised retribution later. She could only hope he would make good on his word. She crossed to where Felicia stood staring at all the girls and their mothers.

“Their clothes are all pastel,” Felicia said, then fingered the fabric of her empire-style sleeveless dress. “I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

“You look great.” Taryn linked arms with her and led her toward a table on the side. “The actual tea will start in about forty-five minutes. Until then, the girls are supposed to mingle with each other and the moms. There’s a punch station. I thought you’d like to serve the punch. That way you can talk to the girls without being creepy.”

Felicia nodded. “Thank you. Having a task is helpful. Standing and staring at the children would cause alarm, and I don’t want that.” She touched her round belly. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading, but when it comes to children there are some things that must be experienced rather than taught.”

Taryn stopped and stepped in front of Felicia. “I don’t know your whole story. I know you’re smarter than all of us, and that probably makes you feel like a freak sometimes.”

Felicia’s mouth twisted. “Freak is an excellent word.”

Taryn shook her head. “That’s not my point. Here’s my advice. Love your kid and let her know. That’s what children need. The rest of it takes care of itself.”

Felicia’s expression softened. “Your mother didn’t love you?”

“She left me. It wasn’t good.” In some ways, having her mother leave was worse than her father’s abuse. Because her mother had known what would happen to her and she’d walked out anyway.

Felicia nodded. “Thank you. You’re right. Carter, my stepson, tells me that, as well. I do love her already. I just want to do the right thing.”

“All the time? What are the statistical odds?”

Felicia laughed. “Slim.”

They continued walking toward the table with the punch bowl. Felicia pointed to it. “Legend says that British sailors discovered punch in India. The etymology of punch comes from the Hindu word for five, referring to the five ingredients that made up the liquid. They are supposed to be a sweet flavor, a sour, something bitter, something weak and alcohol. Later versions used tea as a base.”

Taryn stared at the pink drink. “I’m hoping there’s no alcohol in that, or we’re in big trouble.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing more than a sugar-based drink. The girls will be feeling the effects as the sandwiches are served.”

“That will make for an exciting afternoon.”

She got Felicia settled, saw that Angel was surrounded by even more mothers and walked in the opposite direction. Let him use his stealthy macho skills to get out of that situation, she thought with a grin.

She spotted Bailey and Chloe chatting in a group. Bailey saw her and said something to Chloe, then walked toward Taryn.

Bailey wore a green dress that was a bit tight. Her long red hair hung over her shoulders and she didn’t have on much makeup.

“This is nice,” Bailey said as she approached. “I like how the FWM gets the girls together so they all become friends. When Chloe goes to middle school, she’ll already know the older girls.” She lowered her voice. “I wanted to thank you and Angel for the extra help you’ve given Chloe. She’s really excited about all the activities. I can see a difference in her already.”

“I’m glad,” Taryn said. “She’s very sweet. When Angel asked her to look out for one of the puppies, she was so gentle with him. She’s a great girl.”

“Thank you. It’s been hard without her dad. I miss him, too, but it’s different for me.”

Taryn wasn’t sure that would make dealing with her loss any easier, but she decided not to say that.

Bailey smiled. “Chloe is always talking about your clothes, and I can see why. That’s a beautiful dress.”

Taryn twisted back and forth so the skirt swayed. “It’s a vice,” she said cheerfully. “And I don’t care. I love this dress.”

“The shoes are great, too.”

Taryn noticed that Bailey’s flats were scuffed from lots of use. She was suddenly conscious of the fact that her dress had cost nearly a thousand dollars and felt the need to apologize.

“I’m going to have to trade my mom jeans in for something more professional,” Bailey admitted.

“Changing jobs?”

“Getting a job.” Bailey shrugged. “I’ve had a few part-time jobs. Mostly so I could be around for Chloe. But she’s doing better and we need the money. It’s been a while since I was in the regular job market, though. Computer programs change every few years. I need to brush up my skills.”

“There are probably classes at the local community college,” Taryn offered. “You could get up to speed in a couple of days.”

Bailey nodded. “I looked online, but they were really expensive. The community college would be easier and cheaper.”

“Plus, you’d meet people in your same situation. You can network. Then go buy a power suit and impress the heck out of your future employer.”

Emotions chased across Bailey’s face. “That’s a great idea.” She smiled, but something wasn’t right. The warmth was gone. “I don’t want to take any more of your time. Thanks again for all your help with Chloe.”

Taryn nodded as the other woman walked away. She knew she’d said something wrong but couldn’t figure out what. The college idea made sense. How else would Bailey get her skills up to date? So if it wasn’t that, was it...

“The power suit?” she murmured to herself.

Maybe money was so tight Bailey couldn’t afford one. Which made Taryn feel even more upset about her dress. What a ridiculous amount to have spent on a piece of clothing. Sure, she could afford it, but...

“You’re looking fierce,” Angel said, coming up to stand next to her. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She twisted her fingers together. “I feel stupid.”

“Not possible.”

She looked at him. “Am I ridiculous? With the clothes and the shoes?”

“What brought this on?”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“I don’t buy in to the premise. You’re a beautiful woman. You dress like you want to dress. Why does that make you stupid?”

“I spend thousands of dollars on my things. Do you know what these shoes cost?”

“No, and I don’t care. Do you like them?”

“Yes.”

“Can you afford them?”

“Sure.”

“Then enjoy them.”

She knew he was right, but it also wasn’t that simple. She watched Bailey talking with some of the other moms. As Taryn studied Bailey, she felt an odd clenching in her stomach. A need to help.

“It’s this town,” she grumbled. “I never wanted to get involved. I’m not like you. I don’t connect with people.”

Angel gave her a slow, sexy smile. “I hate to be the one to break it to you, Taryn, but it’s already happening.”

“I want it to stop.”

“Too late.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

ANGEL WAS WILLING to admit he was just as secretly sexist as the next man. Sure, he was all for equal pay and felt there should be more women running Fortune 500 companies. He thought women in combat was a good thing, because the way war had changed, they were there already. They might as well get credit.

But those attitudes were all in his left brain. Conscious. Thoughtful. They had nothing to do with his visceral reaction to watching Taryn present her ideas to the CDS team.

He sat in the back with Ford and Consuelo. Justice was up at the conference table. Taryn sat next to him, touching her computer every few seconds to change the slide on the big screen up front.

She’d provided a detailed explanation about why their logo worked and why the rest of their material didn’t. She provided market research, information on corporate trends, even some charts on demographics. Angel wasn’t sure, because he wasn’t listening. He was watching.

She wore some fitted black suit with what he would swear had snakeskin trim. Only Taryn, he thought in admiration. Her shoes had a heel so thin and high they could be classified as a weapon. Her long black hair hung straight down her back. She looked both powerful and unbelievably sexy. It wasn’t hard to picture her with a whip...or handcuffs. Not that he was into either, but if she wanted to play he didn’t think he had it in him to refuse her anything.

Which made sitting there, listening to her talk, physically uncomfortable. While he kept trying to control himself, he’d spent the past hour with a hell of a hard-on. He was careful not to shift in his chair too much. The last thing he needed was for Ford to notice and start ribbing him. While he wasn’t keeping his relationship with Taryn a secret, there was no way he wanted to undermine her.

The slide changed again, showing letterhead and business cards. There were several different designs—all variations on a theme. Taryn talked more about what she liked and why. Justice asked a few questions.

Angel let the conversation drift out of focus as he wondered what Taryn would have been like if she’d gone into the military. She would have been tapped for OCS, he thought. She would have liked the discipline and challenges. She would have hated the uniforms.

When the meeting ended, Taryn shook hands with everyone. Justice said they would discuss her ideas and get back to her by the end of the week. Angel knew his friend had liked what he’d seen but didn’t want to say so without team feedback.

“Your girl’s got some brains,” Ford said.