Susan Mallery: Before We Kiss

“Their bodies,” Dellina said without hesitating, telling herself she was speaking in generalities and not talking about Sam at all.

“The danger,” Taryn added. “Remember during the Olympics when we couldn’t stop watching Kipling Gilmore? When he skied down that mountain, it was the sexiest thing ever.” She paused and grinned. “Except for Angel, of course.”

“Yes, don’t leave your fiancé out of it,” Larissa murmured. “I’m with you on Kipling. Yum and double yum.”

Larissa leaned toward them both. “So I heard from a friend of mine.”

Taryn groaned. “Run,” she told Dellina. “Run while you still can. Run and never take her calls.”

Larissa’s mouth turned into a pout. “You don’t know what I’m going to say.”

“Yes, I do. Some creature needs rescuing. It’s going to be weird and inconvenient.”

“Mostly to Jack,” Larissa reminded her.

Taryn perked up. “That’s right.” She looked at Dellina. “Jack is forever helping Larissa with her various projects. Whether he wants to or not.”

“It’s one of his best qualities,” Larissa said.

“Why doesn’t he just say no?” Dellina asked.

“It’s not in his nature,” Taryn said. “He’s a sucker for Larissa’s causes.” She picked up her latte again. “All right. What is it now?”

“There might be a lady in Barstow breeding chiweenies.”

Larissa paused dramatically. Dellina looked at Taryn. “What’s a chiweenie?”

“Hell if I know. And where’s Barstow?”

Larissa put her hands on the table. “They’re dogs. A Chihuahua-dachshund mix. There’s concern she has a puppy mill rather than a breeding program. We’re still investigating. But we might need to go in and rescue them.”

Taryn’s right eye twitched. “Save us all,” she murmured. “Fine. Go rescue your chiweenies, but don’t ask Dellina for help until after the party. I mean it. She’s working on a deadline.”

Larissa’s eyes widened. “But they’re puppies!”

Taryn looked at Dellina. “You see what I put up with?”

Dellina heard the love behind the frustration. Because for Taryn, the people at Score were her family. Dellina knew how important belonging could be. She would do anything for her sisters and her friends. Every now and then she wondered what it would be like to have a Mr. Right in her world. Then she told herself she was doing just fine and that a man would simply get in the way of that.

* * *

SAM ARRIVED AT Score a little before six in the morning. He stored his change of clothes in his locker, then headed outside.

While the days were warm in summer, the nights were still cool, as were the early mornings. The sun had just started to climb over the mountains when he walked onto the basketball court across the street from the company offices.

When he and Kenny and Jack had first come to Fool’s Gold for a charity event, they hadn’t been looking to leave Los Angeles. But something about the town had appealed to them. They’d come back individually over the next few weeks and had ultimately decided to relocate. When Taryn had gone looking for a building, they’d requested a space for a half basketball court. Ever the overachiever, she’d found one where they could put in a full court. Which meant three mornings a week there were pickup games with the guys in town.

Now Sam stepped through the gate in the high fence and walked toward the people already there. He, Jack and Kenny made up the Score contingent. From CDS, the local bodyguard school, were Justice, Angel, Ford and Consuelo, the only woman who joined them. Gideon, who owned the local radio station and his twin brother, Gabriel, showed up most mornings. Usually someone else came to play. One of the Stryker brothers, Josh Golden or Raoul Moreno.

They played to thirty points and generally followed NCAA rules. Teams were decided by drawing poker chips from a bag and whichever team Consuelo wasn’t on was skins. Given the choice, Sam preferred having the petite brunette on his side. She was small but fast, and she played dirty.

“Hey,” he said as he approached. As he greeted everyone, he did a quick head count and realized they were down one player. Clay Stryker had arrived just after Sam, which meant one of the regulars was absent.

“It’s Angel,” Consuelo said with disgust. “I’m sure he’s still in bed with Taryn.”

Not anything Sam wanted to hear. Taryn was too much like a sister for him to be thinking about her having sex with anyone. When it came to personal information, he didn’t want to know.

Just then a man on a Harley rounded the corner and parked. A couple of the guys whistled loudly.

“Who’s finally getting some,” Ford yelled. “Did your woman not want you to go?”

“Can I help it if I’m a god in bed?” Angel asked as he pulled off his helmet.

Sam grinned.

The first few mornings after the court had been finished, there had only been the three guys from Score. Later in the week, the team from CDS had shown up. The game had grown from there. Sam wasn’t sure, but he would bet Taryn had something to do with it. There were more greetings, then everyone drew from the cloth bag and divided into teams.

Sam saw he and Consuelo had different colors. He grimaced as he pulled off his shirt. He would have to be careful around her. She thought nothing of throwing an elbow. If it went high, the man she was guarding ended up with a black eye. If it went low, he generally walked like a cowboy for the rest of the day. Neither was appealing.

“Let’s go,” Jack said, clapping his hands together.

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Once a quarterback,” he muttered to Sam.

Sam chuckled.

The ball was tossed into the air and they were moving.

Sam ducked around Justice and reached for the ball. He moved downcourt only to sense more than see someone coming up beside him. He turned, shifted his weight and jumped up to shoot. The ball spun through the air and fell gracefully into the net.

“Way to go, Sam.”

The high-pitched yell had him looking over his shoulder and then swearing under his breath.

“They’re ba-ack,” Ford said as he ran past.

Most mornings two old ladies showed up with lawn chairs and mugs of coffee. They sat and watched until the game was over, cheering both sides and often suggesting that shirts weren’t the only thing that should come off.

He had no problem with that. It was that one of the old ladies seemed especially interested in him and that was kind of weird. He’d run into her a few weeks ago at one of the town festivals and he would swear she’d pinched his ass.

Justice scored for the other team, then Jack stepped out of bounds to take the ball. Sam got into place and caught it, then passed it to a teammate. As they all moved up the court, he thought that if someone was going to go after his ass, he would pick Dellina. They’d only been together that one time, but it had been memorable. The way she’d kissed him, he thought as he turned and reached for the ball. Her mouth had made him—

He came to a stop involuntarily as his face made contact with something hard and sharp. Pain exploded by his eye, but before he even started swearing, he passed the ball to Clay. Only then did he reach up to touch the rapidly swelling lump that was going to not only leave a mark but give him a black eye. He turned to Consuelo.

“Seriously? You had to do that?”

“You weren’t paying attention. You know I hate that.” She sounded more defensive than contrite. Then she pointed to his face. “Your nose is bleeding, too.”

He rubbed his chin. Sure enough, his hand came away with blood on it.

“Man down,” Jack yelled, walking toward him.

“I’m standing,” Sam told him even as he headed off the court. Dripping blood would make the court slick. And he should probably get some ice on his eye.