Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)(49)
“And that was supposed to be enough?”
Taryn sighed. “I suppose not. So now what?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I have to figure out a way to get over him.”
“You’re not going to try to get him to fall in love with you?”
“No way. That’s not possible.” Although it was nice to think about. “If Jack was going to see me as anything more than his friend, don’t you think it would have happened by now?”
“Good point. So how exactly do you plan to get over Jack? He’s kind of a great guy.”
“How did you get over him?”
“I was never in love with him. We were friends and we still are.”
Oh, right. “So how do women get over any guy? You see him as he is, not as you want him to be. I need to focus on Jack’s flaws. He doesn’t commit, he’s emotionally unavailable.”
“Those would be the same thing,” Taryn murmured.
“Okay, so there are others. He’s not good boyfriend material. I know that. I’ve seen him with his other women. He’s...” Larissa felt the pieces fall into place. “I have an unrealistic view of what a relationship with Jack would be like. I’ve only seen that part of his life from the outside.”
“No,” Taryn said firmly. “I’m not sure where this is going, but I don’t like it.”
“It’s brilliant,” Larissa told her. “Totally brilliant. I’m not going to convince Jack to fall in love with me, I’m going to convince him to have an affair with me. Then he won’t be a romantic hero anymore. He’ll just be this guy I used to date. And then I’ll fall out of love with him.”
Taryn’s gaze was steady. “That is possibly the stupidest idea ever.”
“No, it’s brilliant. You’ll see.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“WHO ARE WE MEETING?” Larissa asked as she walked with Bailey to Brew-haha.
“Her name is Shelby Gilmore. She’s Kipling Gilmore’s sister.” Bailey grinned. “You know Kipling Gilmore, right?”
“Not personally, but I might have caught one or two of his events on TV,” Larissa admitted. Kipling had been a fantastic skier and had won two gold medals at the Olympic Games earlier that year. But right now she wasn’t all that interested in him or any other man who wasn’t Jack.
Not that she’d figured out what she was going to do about him, but she was mulling and eventually she would come up with a plan.
“I saw him, too,” Bailey said. “He’s totally hot.”
“So there’s an ulterior motive for helping his sister?”
Bailey laughed. “Not even close. Mayor Marsha asked that I help make Shelby feel at home. I’m still not sure how to do that myself, so I dragged you along. This has nothing to do with Kipling. He’s just a frame of reference.”
“Uh-huh. Like I buy that. So you’re saying if he asked you out right now, you’d refuse?”
Bailey hesitated just long enough for Larissa to come to a stop and face her. “What?” she demanded. “Or rather, who? There’s somebody if you’re not accepting a date with Kipling Gilmore. I’ve heard he’s really nice. Why don’t you want to go out with him?”
Bailey laughed. “Maybe because I’ve never met the man and he certainly hasn’t asked me on a date. Besides, even if he were my type, which he’s not, you forget. I’m a single mom. It’s the best anti-date charm there is.”
Larissa hadn’t thought about that. Chloe, Bailey’s daughter, was adorable. Funny and sweet. She showed up at Score from time to time to get help with various FWM projects. The FWM—Future Warriors of the Máa-zib—was kind of like a scouting organization. But local, and with a Fool’s Gold twist.
“I thought guys were over worrying about women with kids,” she said.
“Not as much as you might think. But it’s fine. I’m not looking to get involved. Or date.” Her tone was a little wistful.
“You don’t sound convinced.”
Bailey sighed. “Okay, one hot night with Kipling Gilmore would go a long way toward brightening up my week, but that’s as much as I’m willing to commit to.”
“It’s enough.”
“What about you?” Bailey asked. “Any interest in the hunky skier?”
“I’m around hunky athletes all day,” Larissa reminded her as they crossed the street and approached the coffee shop. “I’m not looking for more.”
Nope, what she was looking for was a way to get over Jack. As she’d told Taryn, having a romantic—i.e., sexual—relationship with the man seemed like the best way to get over him. The only stumbling block was how she was going to get him to figure out he wanted her. Assuming he did.
They walked into Brew-haha. The coffee place was well lit and welcoming with lots of primary colors and an exceptional display of tempting pastries. There were a dozen or so tables, most of them empty in the middle of the afternoon. But a lone woman sat at one of them.
“That’s her,” Bailey said in a low voice. “I saw a picture.”
Shelby Gilmore was probably in her mid-twenties. She had gold-blond hair that fell past her shoulders and big blue eyes. She was petite, almost delicate. No, Larissa thought, suddenly feeling she had too long arms and legs and was way too tall. Not delicate. Ethereal. Like a fairy princess who had gotten caught in the wrong reality.