Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)(39)

“Taryn is so beautiful,” she said as they walked into the store. “She’s going to make a lovely bride.”

“I’m sure she is.”

He led her to a small sofa facing a platform with several mirrors and got her seated. This was the viewing area, he would guess. Not that he’d ever been in a store like this before. He took in the fussy decorations, the feminine colors, the dresses and veils and other girlie stuff and told himself that, with luck, he would never have to be in one again.

Taryn stepped out of a dressing room. She wore a robe and had her hair up.

“You’re here. Good. I need advice. I’ve narrowed my choices down to two.” Taryn crossed to him, grabbed the glass from his hand and drained it. “I’m not cut out for this kind of crap.” Her blue-violet eyes darkened with what he would guess was a lot of doubt, accompanied by a hint of fear. “Jack, is this insane?”

He took back the empty glass and kissed her cheek. “You’re going to be a beautiful bride, Taryn. Angel won’t know what hit him.”

“You haven’t seen me in either of the dresses.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

She sighed. “Thank you.” She put her free hand on his shoulder and pushed him onto the sofa. “Stay here. I’ll be out in a second.”

He sat next to Larissa, who poured him more champagne. He had a feeling this wasn’t the first bottle of the morning.

“You ladies have made this into a party,” he said.

Larissa giggled. “I know. At first it was kind of boring, but after a while, I got into it. Maybe I should have gone shopping with my sisters when they were buying their dresses.”

“I doubt there was champagne involved,” he pointed out. “That would have been a Taryn touch.”

“You’re right.”

She set her glass on the small side table, leaned against him and sighed. “You’re a good friend to help her. She’s really freaked about finding the right dress.”

“Being drunk will ease her pain.”

Larissa looked up at him. “I think I might have had the most champagne.”

Her blue eyes seemed to draw him closer. Despite the public setting and Kenny’s recent warning, Jack felt himself start to lower his head. Because kissing Larissa would put everything else in perspective.

Her chin rose slightly, as if she were easing into position. Yeah, he thought, his mouth a whisper from hers. This was what they both—

“Percy has a black eye.”

He knew he’d been the one to speak the words, but for the life of him he couldn’t say why. Unexpected self-preservation?

Larissa scrambled to the other side of the small sofa and stared at him. “What?”

“It happened during the basketball game this morning.”

“I’m going to kill Consuelo.”

He raised his eyebrows.

She shrugged. “Okay, maybe not kill. But I’m going to talk to her. It’s one thing when it’s you guys, but Percy is a kid. She should be more careful around him.”

He reached past her for her champagne and handed it to her. “Drink up. You’ll feel better.”

“How’s Percy?”

“Proud as hell.”

Isabel stepped out of the dressing room and walked to the platform. “Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your attention, please... Taryn’s first choice is a couture gown. It’s a one-of-a-kind...”

Isabel kept talking, but Jack wasn’t listening. Taryn had stepped out of the dressing room.

He didn’t know much about wedding gowns. They were white and long and fussy. This one was all that, but somehow Taryn pulled it off. The top part was fitted and left her shoulders and arms bare. The skirt was full, falling in layers of some kind of frothy fabric. When she moved, the skirt swayed like a bell.

He remembered the first time he’d met her, nearly a decade before. She’d been packing up sandwiches left over from a meeting. Her determination, not to mention the collection of wrinkled plastic bags, had told him this was going to be her main meal of the day.

When they’d seen each other, he was sure he’d looked surprised. He knew she’d looked guilty, although she’d tried to pretend she wasn’t hungry. At that time, he’d dated enough models and actresses to recognize good quality clothes when he saw them. Taryn had been dressed in a suit a couple sizes too big. Her shoes had been worn and she was using a tattered backpack for a handbag.

But she’d been pretty and she’d faced him defiantly. He’d admired her spirit and had asked her out to dinner.

One thing had led to another and they’d ended up at his place. He’d quickly discovered she was living out of her car while saving enough for a down payment on her own apartment. By the end of the week, she’d moved in with him.

It hadn’t been love, he thought as she moved to the platform and stepped up in front of the mirrors. He’d liked her, had enjoyed being with her. Helping her out had made him feel as if he was doing something useful with his day. Lack of purpose was a chronic problem in the off-season.

A couple of months later, she’d turned up pregnant. He remembered Taryn’s tears when she’d told him. Not tears of happiness or even regret. Instead, she’d been frustrated—mostly with herself for, as she’d put it, being so damned stupid.