Three Little Words (Fool's Gold #12)(64)

Ethan put down his bottle. “You bring cash?” he asked Ford.

“Yeah, but maybe not enough.”

Kent chuckled. “It’s your first time since you’re back, baby brother. I’m going easy on you.”

“Good to know.”

On the TV the Red Sox player hit what seemed to be a home run. The three of them stopped to watch the ball sail over the outfield and drop into the stands.

“Hell of a hit,” Ethan said.

“Great player.” Kent lined up his next shot.

Ethan walked over to Ford. “Things okay?”

“Sure.”

He turned to Kent. “You?”

“Fine. At your house?”

“All good.”

“Four in the corner,” Kent said, leaning over the table.

And with that, Ford thought, they were done. Emotional temperatures gauged, problems discussed, the world righted. Something the women in his life would never understand.

* * *

FORD DRAGGED THE RAKE across the grass. Fall had definitely come to Fool’s Gold. The days were notably shorter; the leaves were turning and falling. Up on the mountain, scarlets and yellows created a quilt of bright colors. Here in town, all those colors meant leaf cleanup.

Isabel collected the yard-waste bin and eyed the growing pile. “There’s not going to be enough room,” she said. “The trees are serious about shedding.”

“You have yard-waste bags in the garage,” he told her. “On the shelf above the lawn mower. They’ll take the extras.”

She put her hands on her hips. “You’re spending way too much time over here if you know where stuff like that is.”

He grinned. “I happened to see them last time I mowed. I’m not taking inventory.”

He wore an old Los Angeles Stallions sweatshirt and jeans. Battered boots and no jacket. His hair was mussed and he hadn’t shaved that morning. He looked better than a hot-fudge sundae. Looking at him practically made her stomach growl.

Their fake relationship was starting to confuse her. Mostly because it was so easy. He was here every night. They had dinner together, did chores. She’d joined him on that work dinner, and he occasionally popped into Paper Moon.

Lately, the thought of leaving wasn’t as thrilling as it had been. Sure, the dream of her own store was still a draw, but what about Ford?

Whenever those questions arose, she reminded herself that this wasn’t real. That while she was emotionally engaged, he wasn’t, and that if she stayed, he would break her heart. Wouldn’t it be easier to be on the other side of the country instead of having the risk of seeing him around every corner?

She heard the phone ring in the house. “I’ll go get that,” she said.

“I know you’re calling yourself on your cell,” he yelled after her. “To get out of work.”

She was still laughing when she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hi, Isabel, it’s Denise Hendrix. How are you?”

The laughter faded in her throat. “Fine, thank you. And you?”

“I’m doing great. I was thinking we didn’t get much time to talk when you and Ford were over for dinner. The family is such a crowd. I think we should spend some quality time together, so I thought we could go out for tea. The lodge has one every month, on Saturday afternoon. I’d invite the triplets, so it would just be us girls. How does that sound?”

Isabel opened her mouth, then closed it. Tea with his mother and sisters? Lying to them directly for a couple of hours?

“I’m sorry, Denise, but Saturdays are really difficult for me,” she said. “It’s our busiest day at the store. I usually have fittings and showings. I only have Madeline helping me, so I can’t really leave her alone on a Saturday.”

“Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. All right. I’ll come up with something else. Your store is closed on Monday, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Isabel said weakly.

“Good. I’ll be in touch.”

Trapped, she thought grimly. She was completely trapped.

She dragged herself back to the front porch and collapsed on the steps. Ford frowned at her, then dropped the rake and walked over. Even the sight of him, all masculine and sexy, didn’t make her feel better.

“What?” he asked when he was in front of her.

“Your mother wants me to have tea with her and your sisters. But the lodge only does tea on Saturday afternoons and I can’t leave the store then.”

“Problem solved.”

“Not exactly. She confirmed I have Mondays off and is going to come up with something else. Something I won’t be able to get out of.”

He tugged her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he said, staring into her eyes. “How can I make this up to you?”

He smelled good. Clean with a hint of leaves. The air was crisp, but he was warm, and as she settled into his embrace, she wondered what it would be like to never let go. Dangerous thoughts, she reminded herself. Also pointless. But the question remained.

“You don’t have to,” she told him. “I just want to pout.”

“You’re an adorable pouter. Cutest ever.”

That made her smile.

Then his mouth was on hers, and he was nudging her back toward the front door.