Before We Kiss. Susan Mallery

at the ranch.”

      “An elephant?”

      “Yes.”

      “In Fool’s Gold?”

      “Of course. Her name is Priscilla. She lives on the ranch. She has a pony named Reno as a companion.”

      Sam wondered if the elbow to his face had bruised more than his eye. “You’re sure?”

      “You can’t make up something like that.”

      She had a point there.

      “Elephant rides, it is.”

      “Then we all meet back at the hotel and the weekend is over.”

      He studied the papers. “You did great. Our clients will be talking about this for a long time.”

      “That’s the goal.”

      “The lecture is still a problem.”

      “I know.” She sighed. “It has to be special. I’m figuring it out.”

      “This is where you tell me the short time frame doesn’t help.”

      Her mouth twitched. “Why state the obvious? You were in an emotional crisis. We all have to deal with the aftermath.”

      “I wasn’t in an emotional crisis.”

      “What would you call it?”

      “Hell.”

      She laughed. “Fair enough. The combination of the list and wedding dresses were probably off-putting.”

      “That’s one name for it.”

      She tilted her head. “You could have talked to me.”

      “Not after seeing all that.”

      “You assumed the worst.”

      “It wasn’t much of a stretch,” he told her.

      “I guess. But you should trust people more.”

      “Not likely.” He studied her. “You, on the other hand, are too trusting.”

      “I’m okay with that. I want to assume the world is a nice place. To think otherwise is too sad.”

      An innocent, he thought, not sure if he admired her or wanted to warn her against all that could happen.

      “It’s because I grew up here,” she added with a shrug. “You’ve lived here now. You know what it’s like.”

      “True. A Fool’s Gold native would have a tough time being cynical. So what was it like? Four perfect seasons and a warm, loving community?”

      She laughed. “You’re right about the community. I’m not sure I’d agree the seasons are perfect, but it was nice.” Her humor faded.

      “What?” he asked. “Something ruin Pleasantville for you? What was it? A lost dog? A bad prom?”

      “Prom wasn’t great.” She shrugged. “It wasn’t all sunshine and roses. Bad things happen everywhere, even here. My parents passed away.”

      Sam reached for her hand, then drew back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a jerk.”

      “You weren’t.”

      “I assumed nothing bad had ever happened to you.”

      “I’m not sure anyone gets through life without some kind of pain.”

      “How old were you?”

      “Seventeen. My sisters were nearly fourteen. My parents took their first vacation by themselves.” She looked away. “At the last minute my mom wanted to cancel, but I said we’d be fine.”

      This time Sam did take her fingers in his. “It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known what was going to happen. There’s no way she knew, either.”

      “Which all sounds very logical.” She returned her attention to him and didn’t pull free of his touch. “But back then I felt so responsible.” She swallowed. “It was a freak thing. They were on a boat in the Caribbean and there was a storm. It took a couple of days to find their bodies.”

      Sam couldn’t imagine what that must have been like. His parents made him crazy—especially his mother—but at least he knew they were around. Ready to torment him at a moment’s notice.

      He continued to rub her hand. Her skin was warm and soft, but this wasn’t about him.

      “It was awful,” she continued. “Honestly, I can’t remember much about that time. There was a funeral and then our aunt and uncle came to get us.”

      “You moved away?”

      She nodded. “There was no other family. We’d met them before—the aunt and uncle. But that was different than going to live with them. We were in a different state and different schools. Fayrene and Ana Raquel had each other, so that helped. But I didn’t feel like I had anyone else.”

      Sam remembered being seventeen and wishing for nothing more than to be left alone. His sisters and parents were always there hovering, checking on him. It wasn’t pleasant or fun. In retrospect, he’d been damned lucky.

      “I finished high school and turned eighteen. Then I petitioned the courts to get custody of my sisters.” She laced her fingers with his. “My parents had left enough money to take care of us, assuming we were careful. There was insurance on the mortgage, so the house was paid for. The town helped. Julia Gionni moved in with us for the first two months. Denise Hendrix taught me how to balance a checkbook and pay bills, that sort of thing. We managed.”

      Without thinking, he stood and pulled her to her feet. He drew her close and wrapped his arms around her.

      “I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” he said.

      She put her hands on his chest and stared into his eyes. “You do realize it was a decade ago, right?”

      “Still, a lot for you to deal with.”

      She was smiling, which made his attention drop to her mouth. Instantly, he remembered what it was like to kiss her. To feel her lips against his. He’d kissed a lot of women in his life, but there was something about Dellina. The feel of her, the way she tasted. The heat.

      Last Valentine’s Day, when they’d walked out of the hotel together, he hadn’t thought about much more than how he wanted to see her again. Then he’d kissed her. The second her lips had moved against his, he’d known he was lost. He’d wanted her—in his bed. Or her bed. Or up against a wall somewhere. The need had hit him like a linebacker, nearly dropping him to his knees. From that second until he’d walked into the hell room at her place, he’d been operating on need.

      Now he wondered how much trouble he would be in if he tried to kiss her again. There were a thousand reasons not to—most of which revolved around the weekend they had to plan. But the reasons to do it were powerful and starting to win.

      She moved her hands to his upper chest and gently pushed him back.

      “I appreciate the sympathy and support,” she said as she sidestepped him. “But your reaction means I told you way too much. Both my sisters are doing great. They’re successful and happy.”

      The message was clear, he thought. Back off. He’d crossed a line with her. The realization was made all the more uncomfortable because he was the guy who prized his own boundaries.

      “Except for Fayrene and Ryan,” he said, hoping to restore equilibrium to their conversation.

      She sank back in her chair and smiled. “There is that. The quest to find a way to get her boyfriend to read her mind. I suspect if something like that existed, it would have been discovered long before now.”

      He returned to his seat. “Telling him isn’t possible?”

      “Apparently