When We Met (Fool's Gold #13)(70)

“Haven’t you been reading the posters?” Angel asked with a grin. “She might have come from around here.”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you can’t be sure. Besides, we’re celebrating the contribution of women. You should support that.”

“I’ll support it more when there isn’t any pay inequity left.” She glanced at the tourists clogging the streets. “Not that I don’t love a good festival.”

“You don’t,” he teased.

She smiled at him. “I’m getting used to them.”

It was a sunny Saturday morning. Angel had called the previous night and suggested they spend the day together. They were going to cruise the festival through lunch, then maybe catch a movie. He would grill steaks for them that night and tomorrow they would work on her garden.

Implied in the invitation was him spending the night—a plan she could totally support. Lately she’d found herself sleeping better when Angel was in her bed. Of course that could be about the things they did before they fell asleep, but she was open to that, as well.

Now, as he took her hand, she laced her fingers with his and felt the swell of contentment in her body. Being around Angel made her feel good.

They moved slowly with the flow of the crowds. There were booths lining the streets. A schedule of events promised live music later.

“Angel, Taryn!”

Allison, a little blonde girl with glasses, ran up to them. She wore a pink T-shirt and white shorts. As she reached them, she pushed up her glasses.

“Hi. I saw you and wanted to introduce my uncle Ryder.” She was dragging a good-looking guy behind her. He looked to be around thirty, with tanned skin and a crooked smile. He was tall, maybe six-three, so he towered over the little girl. “He’s a really famous photographer.” She paused to beam at them. “He’s my favorite uncle.”

Ryder shook hands with both of them. “Hi,” he said. “Allison gets a little carried away. I’m not that famous.”

Taryn liked how Ryder put his hands on Allison’s shoulders in a gesture of love and support, rather than getting annoyed with her.

“You’re her favorite uncle,” Taryn said.

“I’m her only uncle.”

Allison shook her head. “You’d be my favorite, no matter what. Angel is my Grove Keeper.”

Ryder’s mouth twitched. “That’s right. You’re an Acorn.” He turned his attention to Angel. “How are you enjoying the FWM?”

“You know about it?” Angel asked.

“I lived in Fool’s Gold until I was about ten. Then we moved to Denver.” He glanced around. “Great place. I was sorry to go.”

“He’s visiting for the weekend,” Allison said, leaning against Ryder. “I showed him my beads.”

They spoke a few more minutes, and then Allison dragged her uncle away to buy her an elephant ear. Taryn watched them go.

“You’re good with the girls,” she said. “They adore you.”

“I’m their only Grove Keeper. They don’t know any better.”

“Which makes them easier to fool? I don’t think so, big guy. They’re crazy about you.” She nudged his arm. “Besides, you can French-braid now. You’re invaluable.”

“I’d been looking for a skill to round out my résumé.”

She was still laughing when they stopped in front of a display of hats. The hats themselves were cloth, with a brim that could be rolled up or left down. But what made them different were the silk flowers. Some of the arrangements were small, with only a few buds, while others were full-on bouquets.

Taryn tugged on Angel’s hand, but he wasn’t budging.

“No way,” he told her. “I heard that this year it’s all about accessories, so I’m buying you a hat.”

A hat she would never wear, she thought as he selected, then rejected several options. Then he picked up a soft black hat with dark red roses and plenty of green leaves and put it on her head. He adjusted the brim until it was how he wanted it, then turned her toward the mirror.

“What do you think?” he asked.

The hat wasn’t anything she would ever wear, but that wasn’t the point. She could see herself and part of him. He kept fussing with the way the hat sat on her head. As his fingers lightly stroked her cheek, she felt a tightness in her chest. A tightness unlike anything she’d experienced before.

Her breath caught and the world spun a little before settling. And then she knew. She was in love with Angel.

She who had vowed to never risk her heart, no matter what. She who defined her world by how much she controlled it. She who had always prided herself on her toughness, had fallen deeply and profoundly in love.

“Taryn?” Angel’s voice was sharp. “What’s wrong?” He turned her to face him. “You went pale.” He touched her forehead, then reached for her wrist and felt for her pulse. “Your heart is racing. Are you sick?”

She was, she thought frantically. Sick with love. Oh God. How had this happened? Why hadn’t she been paying attention?

But after the panic came certainty. This was right, she thought. Whatever happened, however this ended, she had fallen in love. And by giving her heart, she’d broken free of the last bond her father had on her. She’d overcome the fear.