Beauty's Kiss (5 page)

Read Beauty's Kiss Online

Authors: Jane Porter

“Seriously hot,” Kara drawled.

Taylor rolled her eyes. “Is every woman in this town crazy about him?”

“Every woman with a pulse.” Kara winked, and headed back to her bedroom.Taylor found Troy standing in front of the living room fireplace studying the framed photos on the mantle. She hesitated in the doorway, watching him examine the photos of Kara and her brother growing up.

His dark hair was cropped clean at his nape, showing off his high hard cheekbones and strong jaw, his jaw shadowed with a day old beard. He was wearing a long black wool coat, something you’d probably see in San Francisco’s financial district and the tailored wool coat made his shoulders look big, broad, and tall. But then he was tall. And big, and broad. He’d made the huge Escalade feel small and it was probably a very roomy SUV.

“I’m sorry you had to drive all the way back at this time,” she said, needing to let him know she was there, and yet feeling slightly breathless at the same time.

She wasn’t accustomed to greeting men in the Jones’ living room. She’d had some double dates with Jane, but none of the men had ever picked her up here.

Nervously she jammed her hands deeper into the robe pockets, thinking she must look as pretty as a roll of toilet paper in her fuzzy gray robe dotted with fat pink pigs, the robe a Christmas gift a from Doug several years ago.

Troy turned from the mantle, his long black wool coat falling open over his black cashmere sweater, revealing the hard muscular planes of his broad chest. She’d tried not to stare at his chest in the car. She had to remind herself not to stare now.

“I didn’t want you to panic,” he said.

“That was nice of you, because I was, a little bit,” she admitted. “I haven’t backed up my contacts. Need to.” She was babbling. She hated that. But she felt so jumpy. Troy made her self-conscious. Or, perhaps it was the robe. Why didn’t she just put on clothes before coming out to see him? Why had she felt it necessary to greet him in a pig robe?

Of course he’d look urban, and sophisticated.

Dashing.

A prince coming to the villager’s house with the glass slipper.

Or in this case, a phone.

She
really
should have put on real clothes.

“I would have waited until morning,” Troy said, walking towards her, “but the messages seemed urgent.” He handed her the phone. “Hope everything’s okay.”

His fingertips brushed her palm as he placed the phone in her hand. Taylor blushed, feeling a sharp tingle where his fingers had touched her palm.

This was so absurd. She had to get a grip. Annoyed, she rubbed at the sensitive, tingling spot on her hand, even as she glanced at the screen of her phone.

Tons of missed calls. Tons of text messages. All from Doug.

“My brother,” she said, heart sinking all over again.

“The one in Paradise Valley?”

She nodded. “Do you mind if I send him a message and make sure things are alright?”

“I think that’s a good idea. I can always drive you to him if you need a ride.”

She didn’t bother to explain there were no visits at Hogue Ranch, and no dropping by. The ranch was a halfway house program approved by the state. Doug had gotten into trouble a year ago and he needed to finish his nine month program at the ranch so he could get off probation and come live with her. As soon as he could do that, she’d find a place for them both here in Marietta. Taylor wanted to stay in Marietta. Doug didn’t, but she wasn’t going to think about that yet.

Instead she focused on sending her brother a brief text.
Everything ok?

Where have you been
? Doug answered almost immediately.

Taylor typed back.
Had a car accident and lost my phone. But I’ve got the phone now
.

You okay?
Doug asked a second later.

Fine. Car’s not so good but that can be fixed.

Good. Glad you’re safe.

She drew a deep breath and repeated her first question, dreading his reply
. So are you okay?

For a long moment there was no response, and then,
I hate it here
.

Taylor bit her lip, a fresh wave of dread hit her, weighting her limbs.

This is how it always started. He’d become unhappy and agitated and the agitation would turn into resentment, then anger, and then before she knew it, he’d be walking out of a program, picking a fight, losing control.

But no, she stopped herself. She wouldn’t go there, not yet. She wouldn’t make that leap. He was getting better. He wanted a bright, healthy, happy future as much as she wanted it for him.

Before she could think of something to say, Doug texted again.
But I’ll survive. I’ll make it work. I want to get through this so I can come live with you.

Her eyes burned and her throat swelled closed. Taylor texted him back.
Me, too.

Will I still see you this weekend?

Wouldn’t miss it.

Nite, Tay.

Night, hon.

She slid her phone into the pocket of her robe, conscious that Troy was watching her, and had been watching her the entire time she’d texted back and forth with Doug. “Everything’s fine,” she said.

“No emergency?” Troy asked.

She managed a small smile. “Emergency averted.”

“That’s good.”

“Yep.” She held her smile and yet on the inside she was troubled and tired and worried but she kept that to herself. She missed Doug. She hated only being able to see him on weekends, for a couple hours on Sunday. It was the only time the program allowed the men to have visitors. It was hard for Doug, too, to have so little contact with family. He was still young. He needed family and support. “Thank you,” she said, meaning it. “I know it’s a long drive, late at night, in terrible conditions.”

“Happy to help.” Troy reached into his coat pocket for his car keys. “So how are you going to get to work tomorrow?”

“Kara’s dropping me off.”

“Is she also going to help you get a rental car?”

Taylor nodded. “On my lunch.”

“Good. Sounds like you have everything in control.”

“Kara’s good at that.”

“I’d imagine.”

Taylor walked him to the front door, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip, screwing up her courage to let Troy know she wouldn’t be going to the Valentine Ball.
Just say it. Just say it. Just get it over with.

“Troy,” she said, as he reached for the door knob. “About the Ball Friday night.”

He’d started to turn the knob but he released it and faced her. “Yes?”

He was so tall, so big, and movie star handsome that for a moment her mind went blank. For a moment she just stared at him, dazzled.

And then she blinked, and the moment passed, and she remembered why he was in town, and how the big Ball was in just four days.

“I can’t go with you,” she said quickly, blurting the words before she could change her mind. “And I wanted to let you know now, so you’d have time to find another... date.”

Troy didn’t immediately speak. His jaw firmed and his dark blue gaze met hers. “Something came up?”

Taylor thought of all the different excuses she could give him—her brother needed her, she had a library conference to attend out of town, her parents would be in town—but she didn’t think it was fair to lie to him, especially not after he’d done her two favors.

He’d been quite the gentleman. She owed him the truth.

“I’m not a black-tie formal event kind of girl,” she said. “And I’m happy serving on the Wedding Giveaway committee, and selling tickets, but I never wanted to go to the Ball. Unfortunately, Jane can be stubborn and doesn’t really listen.” Taylor’s voice dropped, deepening. “I’m sorry if I’m leaving you in the lurch, but honestly, there are so many women who’d probably love to go to the Ball with you, and now... one of them can.”

 

 

Troy drove to the hotel bemused.

The little mouse had just rejected him.

She didn’t want to go to the Ball, and she definitely didn’t want to go with
him.

Troy wasn’t sure how to react. He was so used to women chasing him, pursuing him, wanting him, that it was a bit... surprising... and intriguing... to meet a woman who didn’t seem to want him.

 

 

The next morning an exhausted Taylor drank two cups of coffee with a piece of toast before bundling up and setting off to walk to work, hoping the frigid morning and exercise would help her clear her head.

She hadn’t slept well. And when she did sleep, she dreamed she was wearing this fancy pink prom gown with sparkly bits and little puffed sleeves and she was at the Graff Hotel for the Valentine Ball, only it wasn’t really the Graff Hotel’s 1914 ballroom, but an 1814 ballroom in London. Taylor was there with her brother and Jane and feeling very uncomfortable, very much a wallflower, and Jane kept whispering to Taylor about Lord Sheenan, and how handsome he was. Then suddenly somehow Lord Sheenan was asking Taylor to dance and they were twirling and waltzing around the dance floor...

It had all been so vivid, too.

Too vivid.

The ballroom, the gowns, the self-conscious feeling as she stood against a wall, wishing she were home instead of corseted into the ball gown.

And then the waltz, and the way Troy held her, and the feel of him against her.

She’d liked it.

She’d liked it so much she wasn’t even sure who had initiated the kiss. Him, or her.

That’s when she’d woken up. At the kiss.

The minute she’d woken she wanted to be asleep again, dreaming again. The dream was gone.

She told herself she was glad.

She wasn’t.

And so baffled, and grouchy from lack of sleep, she trudged off to the library in her winter boots and heavy coat, with her striped scarf wrapped around her neck, walking the ten blocks to the library, down Bramble Lane, the sidewalk mostly shoveled clean and salted.

She did not want to go to the Valentine Ball. And she most definitely did not want to go with Troy Sheenan.

On break mid-morning at the library, Taylor made calls, filed reports and begged the Bozeman insurance adjustor to go see her car as soon as it was
towed to Marietta’s body shop, instead of waiting until the next available opening, which was next week.

Then during her lunch, Kara picked up Taylor from in front of the library and drove her to Marietta’s only car dealer to pick up a loaner car for the next week.

The loaner car was an older four-wheel drive Jeep, and sketchy at best, but it was a car and it ran, so it was something.

Taylor had hoped to grab a sandwich on her way back to the library but time ran out and she ended up back at work without eating anything. By the time the Tuesday night book club arrived at five thirty for their meeting, Taylor was dragging.

She needed food, and coffee, or just a big cup of coffee.

But there was no time to get anything before the book club discussion began and after an hour and a half Taylor’s energy and patience was running low.

She loved her job here in Marietta. She loved this library, too.

Although to be quite honest, right now, Taylor wanted to be anywhere but sequestered in the upstairs conference room with the Tuesday Night Book Group. Her stomach was growling and she still had the Wedding Giveaway meeting to attend. And Taylor couldn’t make it to tonight’s Wedding committee meeting until she emptied and secured the second floor meeting room for the night. Emptying the room was never easy, but tonight it was starting to appear impossible since three of the founding members of the Tuesday Night Book Club did not like new chamber director, Jane Weiss, and did not approve of the Wedding Giveaway in the first place.

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Taylor said, raising her voice to be heard over the fifteen women, and one man, that made up the group. “But we really do need to wrap up. As I mentioned at the beginning of tonight’s discussion, I must get to the committee meeting downstairs—”

Maureen continued talking as if Taylor had not spoken.

Taylor pursed her lips, keeping her temper in check. Maureen was one of the ladies that had made Jane’s life miserable last November and December and it was difficult for Taylor to be in the same room with Maureen, but it was also Taylor’s job to sit in on the book group meetings and run the meeting. She cleared her throat and rose from her chair. “It’s time to wrap up,” she said firmly. “Unfortunately, we can’t go late tonight—”

Other books

Unconditional by Cherie M. Hudson
El sol desnudo by Isaac Asimov
Earth's Last Angel by Leon Castle
A Most Immoral Woman by Linda Jaivin
Masked Desires by Elizabeth Coldwell
London Noir by Cathi Unsworth