Before We Kiss (Fool's Gold #14)(32)
He wanted to tell her they were just costumes and could be replaced. But he knew they were much more than that. Somehow these ridiculous bits of fake fur and plastic had become important—a part of a tradition. So instead of speaking, he pulled her into his embrace and held her close.
She leaned against him, pressing her cheek to his shoulder.
“It’s so awful,” she whispered.
“They’re all safe now. After they air out, they’ll be fine.”
“I know. It could have been much worse, but still...”
He kissed her forehead, then led her back to his car. “You live in a really weird little town,” he told her.
She managed a laugh. “I do and I love it. One day you’ll love it, too.”
Not enough to rush into a burning building and rescue rabbit costumes, he thought. Although God knew, he’d been wrong before.
* * *
SAM GOT BACK to the office an hour later. He headed directly for the locker room where he always kept a change of clothes. After stripping out of the ones that smelled like smoke and singed fake fur, he grabbed a towel from the stack and headed for the showers.
Score had been remodeled to the partners’ exact specifications. The offices were large, the colors neutral and the locker room was a combination of pro-sports-team efficient and five-star-hotel fancy. The big showers were kept stocked with high-quality products, the water was extrahot and there was plenty of room for the guys to congregate if they wanted.
So it was no surprise to step out of his shower and find Kenny and Jack lounging on the benches by the lockers. Sam finished drying off and walked to his locker.
“There was a fire,” Kenny said conversationally. “We’ve been getting calls. There are rabbits in danger. What do you know about this? Should we be worried?”
“Is Larissa involved?” Jack asked. “She has to be. Rabbits are just like her. Is she rescuing them? Am I going to have fifty rabbits in my house?”
Because whatever Larissa was involved with, she dragged Jack along. Sam found their relationship interesting. He knew they weren’t romantically involved. Larissa was the partners’ private masseuse, but she was Jack’s personal assistant. She also allowed him to stay emotionally detached while she got in the thick of things for him.
He’d often wondered how she kept her distance, emotionally. Every now and then he thought he saw something in her eyes, but then it was gone. He figured if Jack wasn’t worried, he wouldn’t be, either.
“There weren’t any rabbits,” he started, only to be interrupted by Taryn walking into the locker room.
He’d already pulled on briefs, but didn’t bother covering up. Taryn had seen it all before, with all of them. Sometimes, just to mess with her, they insisted on holding meetings in the steam room. Not that she cared about them all being naked. Instead she objected to what the moist heat did to her hair.
“Someone set fire to a bunch of rabbits?” she asked as she approached. “And you saved them?”
Sam pulled on a pair of jeans. “Rabbit costumes,” he corrected. “There were rabbit costumes. Hundreds of them.”
His three partners stared at him blankly.
“Hey, I can’t explain it, either,” he told them. “They have a parade every Easter and people dress up like rabbits.”
Taryn frowned. “Bunnies,” she murmured. “I read about it in the Acorn handbook. It’s a tradition. Our girls will be in the parade next year.”
A couple of months ago Taryn had agreed to help Angel with a special project. Fool’s Gold had its own version of scouting called Future Warriors of the Máa-zib. The youngest were Acorns. Even now, Sam couldn’t imagine Taryn sitting around with a bunch of little girls, but from what he’d heard, she’d been very popular with the Acorn set.
Kenny grinned. “So you’re going to dress up in a slightly crispy rabbit costume?”
Taryn wrinkled her nose. “Of course not. I’ll order one custom-made. Are they all right? The rabbits?”
“De-smoking out in Pyrite Park.” Sam shrugged into a fresh shirt. “The weather looks good. They’ll be fine.”
Taryn sighed. “My hero.”
* * *
KIPLING GILMORE FLEW down the mountain. Probably not his smartest move after so long away, but part of his need for speed was because of time spent partying and promoting and generally enjoying the end of a season that had included two Olympic gold medals.
Now he leaned forward and let gravity and aerodynamics increase his speed. He cleared his mind of conscious thought, allowing his body to react. The adjustments were automatic. Tightening, leaning, reaching for every advantage. In his game, failure was measured in hundredths of a second.
Serious training would start in a couple of days. Kipling was ready. He’d given up the late nights and the drinking. And the women. Now he would focus. The cold felt good, as did his body. His time in the gym paid off in quick responses. He was in control.
But he wasn’t alone on the mountain. His goggles impeded his peripheral vision just enough that he wasn’t sure what the blur was that raced across the side of the mountain. He was far enough away that it wasn’t a problem, but the guy on his left involuntarily jerked—and at sixty miles an hour, that could be deadly.
Kipling shifted out of the way, but it wasn’t enough. One second he was flying and the next he was falling.