Susan Mallery - Before We Kiss

She rested her hands flat on her thighs and looked at him. “How can I help you?”

His dark gaze settled on her face. “Really? You’re not going to admit you know what any of this is about?”

She blinked deliberately, then opened her eyes wide. “When you made your appointment to speak with me, you didn’t mention a subject.” Of course she knew why he was here, but again, a little emotional torture seemed the right kind of payback.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. “All right. We’ll play this your way. I’m Sam Ridge. I’m a partner at Score.”

She grinned. “I know who you are, Sam. We don’t have to pretend that much. Just tell me what you want and we’ll move on from there.”

He swore under his breath. “You’re friends with Taryn. You’ve done work for her. How long are you going to punish me?”

He was right about Taryn. She and Dellina were friends and had worked together several times. Score, the PR firm in question, had moved to Fool’s Gold just after the first of the year. Three of the partners were former NFL players and Taryn was the glue that held the company together.

“I haven’t completely decided how long you should be punished,” she admitted, wondering if batting her eyes again would be too over-the-top.

He sighed heavily. “Fine. We’ll do this your way. Now that we’ve moved our business here, my partners and I want to have a big party for our clients. We’ve booked a hotel, but that’s as far as the planning has gotten.”

“A party,” she breathed, and pressed her hand to her chest. “That sounds really nice.”

* * *

IN TRUTH, BEING a neurosurgeon or the person who used to land the space shuttle probably made the top-ten list of jobs designed to give a person an ulcer. Sam would guess whoever was in charge of the ball dropping in Times Square on New Year’s Eve probably had a few sleepless nights. But he would add that being a kicker for an NFL team had its moments of stress. When he’d been with the L.A. Stallions, he’d been responsible for twenty-six wins, including three during play-off games and one Super Bowl victory. He knew what it was like to have everyone watching him, both in person and on TV, and have his job performance critiqued endlessly.

He’d always known the outcome the instant his foot connected with the ball and he was famous for turning away and letting the sounds from the crowd tell him if he was right. He was used to pressure. He’d lived it and breathed it. But he’d never faced down anyone like Dellina Hopkins before, and the worst part about it was, she was right to give him a hard time.

Sam shook his head. “Okay,” he said. “I give. I was wrong.”

Her brown eyes twinkled. “Wrong about what?”

“That night. Leaving the way I did. It was just...” He motioned toward the hallway. “Those dresses and that list. All of it. I’m not looking to get married.”

“Neither am I.”

“You’re the one with a room full of wedding gowns.”

Her full lips pressed together. Sam tried not to notice, but her mouth was one of the first things that had caught his attention, back on Valentine’s Day.

He’d been staying at Ronan’s Lodge for a few weeks, until escrow closed on his new place. He’d gone down to the bar for a drink only to realize it was Valentine’s Day and the place was crawling with couples. As he’d recently sworn off women—again—he’d started to turn around to go back to his room.

But before he could safely escape, he’d spotted Dellina. She’d been with friends. They were laughing and talking. No one had noticed him. She’d been pretty enough, but then she’d smiled and it was like getting kicked in the gut—and he was a man who knew the power of a good kick. He’d sent over a tray of drinks for the table, they’d invited him to join them and an hour later he and Dellina had been having dinner together.

Later, when he’d kissed her, he’d discovered her mouth had been as exciting and intriguing as he’d hoped. She’d invited him home, he’d said yes and the rest had been incredible. Until he’d gotten up in the night and found himself in a nightmare.

He’d spent the past five months avoiding her. Tough to do in a town the size of Fool’s Gold. The situation had been complicated by the fact that he’d enjoyed her company and had really wanted to see her again.

Now that his company needed her services, he’d been forced to suck it up. So here he was. Being tortured for sport. Kenny and Jack would point out there was no other reason to torment anyone.

Dellina rose. She was about five-five, with all the expected curves. When he saw her around—because wanting to avoid her and being able to do it were two different things—she was usually in dresses or suits. Today she had on jeans and a frilly sleeveless thing that shouldn’t have been sexy and yet was. Looking at her bare arms made him remember the rest of her bare, which was what had led to the problem between them in the first place.

Damn, he should never have gotten out of bed today. Or moved to Fool’s Gold. Or joined Score for that matter. Or been born.

“Stand up,” she said.

He did.

She walked up to him and held out her hand. “We’re starting over. I’m Dellina Hopkins. I own a party planning business.”

He didn’t know which tack she was taking now, but figured he didn’t have a lot of choice in the matter. Time was ticking and he was desperate.

“Sam Ridge. My company is a PR firm.”

They shook hands. The second her fingers closed around his he felt heat. His gaze immediately settled on her full lips and he remembered he hadn’t had nearly enough time with them. Or any of her. It was just once she’d gotten naked, he hadn’t been sure which part of her to enjoy first. Then the nightmare had started.

She withdrew her hand and dropped it to her side.

“Well, Sam, like many small businesses, mine is based in my home. This house I rent has three bedrooms. I sleep in one and I work out of one and that leaves a spare bedroom. Follow me, please.”

She led the way down the hall. He hesitated. He had a good idea where they were going and it was not a place any man would want to revisit. What it came down to was how much he needed her. And he needed her a lot.

She paused outside a closed bedroom door. The closed bedroom door.

“So my friend Isabel owns a store in town called Paper Moon,” Dellina told him. “She sells wedding gowns. Last fall she decided to expand the business to include other kinds of clothing. She leased the space next door and started remodeling. As you can imagine, it was a big project. Because of the construction, she lost some of her storage space. Now, the average wedding gown is a pretty special item. So when one stores them, one can’t simply leave them anywhere. They need to be safe and temperature controlled.”

The pieces were starting to fall into place. Sam remembered getting up after making love with Dellina. He’d still been shell-shocked by the heat they’d generated and very much looking forward to a second act. Only on the way back from the bathroom, he’d made a wrong turn. Instead of walking back into her bedroom, he’d found himself staring at what looked like rows and rows of wedding gowns.

Worse, on the wall had been a dry-erase board with a header that read Ten Ways to Get Him to Propose.

He had, understandably, freaked. He’d found his way back to her room, pulled on his clothes and fled. From then until now, he hadn’t spoken a word to Dellina. He’d avoided her, he’d avoided anything to do with her and he’d never allowed himself to think about that night. Because if he did, he would find himself wanting her again. And with his luck with women, it was important to stay with those who were completely sane.