Best of My Love (Fool's Gold) Read online

  “Sorry. I’m just shocked. Poor Ronan. That had to have been tough for him. And Mathias. I mean they were a team. Special by virtue of being twins. Now that’s gone forever.”

  “There’s a cheerful thought.”

  “But it’s true.”

  Not something he wanted dwell on, he thought to himself. Families were complicated—his more so than most. At least that was his impression. Maybe not. Maybe everyone else was dealing with the same level of crap.

  “Do you and Nick ever talk about it?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Because you’re men and men don’t have those kinds of conversations?”

  He nodded and picked up the pitcher to fill their glasses.

  “Maybe it would help.”

  He finished pouring and put down the pitcher. “There’s not a problem.”

  “Of course there is. Are you seriously going to tell me that your two brothers taking off like that is okay?”

  She had a point, not that he wanted to admit it. “Mathias and Ronan have each other. I worry more about Nick.”

  The words were unexpected and made him want to swear. Where had they come from?

  “Why?” she asked gently.

  Hell. “Because he’s not as happy as he seems. He’s working as a manager at The Man Cave, but in his spare time he’s hiding out in his secret art studio. I know he’s doing all kinds of things up there, but he won’t talk about it. He doesn’t want Dad to know. God knows what the great Ceallach would say. How he would be pissed and bring Nick down. Yes, he wants his son to be an artist, but not one better than him.”

  Shelby put her hand on his arm. “You should talk to Nick.”

  “No.”

  “It would help.”

  “No.”

  “You’re so stubborn. Guys need love, too.”

  “Is this really what women do when they get together?”

  “Uh-huh. We talk about our problems and our feelings. It’s cathartic.”

  “It’s a nightmare.”

  She smiled. “You’ll get used to it.”

  “If I do, I’ll start to grow breasts.”

  The smile broadened. “That’s very sexist of you.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  She laughed and took another chip. Conversation shifted to the upcoming Cabin Fever Days and the ice sculptures taking shape in the park.

  Later, when they’d left the bar and gone their separate ways, Aidan told himself that while he could go his whole life without having another afternoon like that, he had to admit talking about stuff was kind of good. He felt...relieved somehow. Not that he would share that piece of information with anyone. Ever.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  NEARLY A WEEK LATER, Shelby found herself back at Jo’s Bar, but under very different circumstances. Instead of sitting across from a surprisingly chatty Aidan, she was with her girlfriends for lunch. She sat next to her very pregnant sister-in-law, who kept shifting in her chair.

  “I can’t get comfortable,” Destiny admitted when Shelby asked if she was all right. “Some days are harder than others. I can’t believe I still have a few weeks to go. I’m so huge.”

  From across the table, Isabel eyed her warily. “Please stop saying that. I’m going to be that big times three. All I want to hear is how wonderful you feel and how great every second is.”

  Destiny sipped her hot lemon water. “I’ve never felt better. It’s nothing. You’ll be fine.”

  Isabel sighed. “Thank you for lying.”

  “Anytime.”

  Taryn, perfectly dressed as always in a leather and wool suit and ridiculously high-heeled boots, pointed to the plate of cookies Shelby had brought to the lunch.

  “Are those as good as they look?” she asked warily.

  “I hope so.” Shelby’s voice was cheerful. “I can’t believe how great the response had been. People are going crazy for the ice-sculpture cookies.”

  “You shouldn’t be surprised,” Madeline told her. “It was a great idea. We get so many tourists coming in for the festival. Who doesn’t love looking at the amazing carvings, all done in ice? To be able to buy cookies that look like them is fun.”

  Shelby appreciated the compliment. Being a part of the bakery was still new to her. She wanted to get it right all the time. Not possible, she knew, but it was nice that her ideas had been successful so far.

  “I’ve heard from a few more of the artists,” she said. “They want cookies for next year. And a couple of people have placed orders to have cookies shipped to them at home.”

  Felicia, the woman in charge of the festivals, looked at her. “You could start a mail-order business at the bakery. You already have a website. It wouldn’t take much to expand it.”

  “I’ve been playing around with the idea,” Shelby admitted. “I need to get all my thoughts together and have more information before I talk to Amber about it.”

  There would be start-up costs, of course, but not that many. Still, she wasn’t sure what Amber would say. Her business partner hadn’t been convinced about the food-cart idea, although she’d agreed to try it. Now the Ambrosia Bakery cart was selling briskly at every festival.

  “The biggest challenge is decorating them,” Shelby said. “While the work isn’t that detailed, it’s time-consuming. I don’t want to tie up our skilled employees with something like this, but to sell the cookies beyond Fool’s Gold, we’ll need a process. Plus, the sales aren’t going to be regular. So hiring someone means having to fill their workday with other things when we don’t have custom orders.”

  “You need part-time help,” Madeline said. “Someone who would be willing to come in when you had orders.”

  “You should hire teenagers,” Taryn offered. “Young ones. A group of fourteen-year-old girls would love to come in and decorate cookies for a few hours. They could do it in groups. It would give them a nice break from babysitting and offer them a chance to earn some money.”

  Jo arrived with their lunches. After everyone had their food, Shelby picked up her fork. “I never thought of teenagers,” she admitted. “But fourteen. Isn’t that too young to be working?” Training wouldn’t be an issue. It was basically coloring, but on cookies.

  “There are strict labor laws in the state of California,” Felicia announced. “They could only work for a couple of hours a day. There are also caps on the number of hours in a week. They’d each need a work permit. If you were in the entertainment industry, it would be easier, but it’s still doable.”

  “How can you possibly know that?” Madeline asked.

  Felicia shrugged. “I can’t help it. I read.”

  “I don’t remember an article on child labor laws in my latest issue of Vogue, but maybe I missed it.” Taryn smiled at Felicia. “You are always entertaining and I say that with love.”

  “Then I accept it the same way.”

  Shelby laughed. “Okay, now I have a starting place for my research. Thank you.”

  “I can be a temporary worker,” Isabel offered. “When I’m on bed rest. It’s not like I’ll have a lot to fill my day.”

  “Poor you,” Taryn said, hugging her friend. “I’ll visit. That will be entertaining.”

  “Yes, but not nearly enough. I’ll be going over the books for the store and ordering inventory, but I think I’ll still have some extra time. Decorating cookies would be fun.”

  “If you didn’t eat them all,” Madeline teased.

  Isabel wrinkled her nose. “These days I’m more into salty foods than sweet ones.”

  Shelby thought about Isabel’s cravings for pretzel bread and figured her cookies would be safe.

  “Thanks for the offer,” she said. “I may take you up on it.”

  “Assuming you have time
for your new business venture,” Felicia said. “What with your love life heating up.”

  Everyone turned to Shelby, who was busy gaping at Felicia.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, just as Taryn murmured, “That would be my question.”

  “You’re seeing someone?” Madeline asked, sounding hurt.

  Shelby shook her head. “I’m not. There’s no one.”

  “I heard you were out with Aidan over the weekend,” Felicia said. “I’m sure my source is very reliable.”

  “Oh, that.” Shelby shook her head. “No romance. Our relationship is strictly as friends.” While Madeline knew the details of her past and Shelby was fairly sure there were plenty of rumors, she wasn’t one to discuss her problems in a crowd.

  “I don’t have any guy friends,” she said by way of edging around the truth. “Aidan doesn’t have any female friends. We thought hanging out would be good for us.”

  Madeline relaxed, but everyone else stared at her as if she had grown a second and possibly third head.

  “Why?” Isabel asked. “You have us.”

  “It’s different. A male perspective is nice.”

  “She’s right,” Taryn added. “I love my boys very much. While their advice is always different than yours, sometimes it’s helpful to hear it. I think all women should have male friends.”

  Taryn’s “boys” were three retired football players who were also her business partners at Score PR, but Shelby still appreciated the support.

  “See? It’s not weird.”

  “It’s kind of weird,” Destiny said, “but good for you. Just don’t go falling for him romantically. From all I’ve heard, he’s not the long-term-relationship type. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “It’s not romantic,” Shelby assured her, knowing in that statement she was being completely honest. Aidan was a great guy. She’d enjoyed their afternoon together. And sure, he was good-looking and funny, but they were friends. Nothing more. She had a plan and nothing was going to stand in the way of success.

  * * *

  ONE OF THE advantages of being part owner of a business was having access to it during off-hours. So while The Man Cave was technically closed, Aidan had a key, which explained why he and Shelby were playing pool at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning.

  He didn’t know how it was possible, but Shelby had admitted she’d never played pool before, so he’d explained about striped versus solid balls and the basic rules of the game. Now Shelby was practicing how to use her cue stick to hit the cue ball. It wasn’t going well.

  “I think it’s moving,” she said as her stick sailed past the cue ball and she stumbled forward.

  Aidan held in a grin. “It’s not moving. You have to line up your stick with the ball.”

  “But what about where I want it to go?”

  “Let’s get you to where you can hit the cue ball consistently, then we’ll worry about direction.”

  She glanced at him over her shoulder. “You sound very patient, but I know you’re laughing at me on the inside.”

  “Just a little.”

  She wore jeans and a blue sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she wasn’t wearing much makeup. But when she smiled at him, her whole face lit up.

  “Okay,” she said with a sigh. “Tell me again what I’m doing wrong.”

  Aidan moved toward her. “Better yet, I’ll show you.”

  He positioned the cue ball about a foot from the center pocket, then gently pushed her forward. “Stand with your feet a little bit more than shoulder-width apart. Place your left hand on the table. Bend your fingers like I taught you and rest the cue on your fingers.”

  She did as he instructed, then moved her right arm back and forth. The cue stick moved with her.

  “Now move with a little more force.”

  He watched as she drew back the stick, then thrust it forward. It barely grazed the cue ball. The white ball jumped a little to the left and came to a stop. Shelby groaned, but Aidan saw what she’d been doing wrong.

  “You’re moving smoothly in practice, but as soon as you try to put some force behind the movement, you pull up the end.”

  “And that’s supposed to make sense to me?”

  He chuckled. “I’ll show you.”

  He moved behind her so he could hold the cue stick with her. He rested his left hand by her left hand and put his right on top of hers.

  “This is your practice movement.” He slowly moved the stick back and forth, keeping it even. “This is what you do when you’re trying to shoot.”

  He raised the back of the stick as he brought it forward. “You need to be consistent. There’s no pressure.”

  “That’s so geeky,” she muttered. “Okay, let’s try this again.”

  She completed the smooth practice shot, then went for the ball. This time she managed to keep the stick level and the white cue ball rolled across the table.

  “I did it!”

  Aidan straightened. “You did. Now try it again.”

  Shelby hurried around to the other side of the table. She got in position. “Is this right?”

  He nodded because speaking suddenly seemed difficult. Something was wrong with him. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a tension inside him. Almost a tightness.

  He shook off the feeling and circled around the table to watch Shelby get into position. He checked out her arm extension and how she held the cue, then found his gaze dropping to her butt as she bent over the table.

  Her jeans pulled tight over perfect curves. Funny how he’d never noticed her ass before now and—

  Shit! He took a couple of steps back and nearly collided with another table. He was attracted to her. How had that happened? They weren’t dating. They weren’t involved. They were friends. Non-sexual, genderless friends.

  He told himself not to panic. That this was a natural reaction to close proximity to an attractive woman. It didn’t have to mean anything. He wasn’t going to follow up on what was little more than a biological stimulus response. Like sneezing around pollen. That was all this was. He had allergies and Shelby was pollen. Plus he hadn’t had sex in a while. Circumstances, he told himself. Not intent.

  “Like this, Aidan?” she asked as she hit the cue ball.

  It rolled forcefully across the table.

  “You got it. Now let’s try aiming at another ball.”

  He would focus on the game and nothing else, he told himself. He was stronger than biology. Or at least more determined. He had to be. He would not screw up his one chance to improve himself simply because he was a horny guy. He would not be defeated by his dick. Not this time.

  * * *

  “ARE YOU SCARED?” Shelby asked, doing her best to keep the tremor from her voice.

  “No.”

  She and Aidan stood in front of city hall. They’d been summoned by the mayor, something that had never happened to her before. She told herself that Mayor Marsha was a very nice, elderly woman and that there was nothing to be afraid of. But she couldn’t shake the sense of being called to face some kind of higher power.

  “You sure?” she asked.

  Beside her, Aidan shook his head. “It’s going to be fine.”

  “You really believe that?”

  “No. Everyone knows it’s never good to be called in to see the mayor, but saying it’s going to be fine sounds better than saying we should run for it.”

  She laughed.

  The morning was crisp and sunny. There hadn’t been snow in a few days so all the streets were clear. The town looked like a picture postcard, or something from a made-for-TV movie. Nothing bad could possibly happen here.

  “We’ll be fine,” she whispered.

  “You don’t sound con
vinced.”

  “I’m going to do my best to fake it.”

  Aidan put his arm around her and pulled her close. “I’ll be right there with you. Faking it.”

  They smiled at each other and started up the stairs.

  Things were going well between them, she thought happily. She liked Aidan. He was easy to spend time with. She’d enjoyed learning to play pool and he’d survived his first “girl’s day.” Next up was a baby shower. That was going to be interesting for both of them.

  They entered the building and made their way to the mayor’s office on the second floor.

  “I’m a good citizen,” Shelby murmured more to herself than Aidan. “I follow the rules. I pay my taxes.”

  “Let it go,” he told her. “You’ll never guess what she wants and trying will only make it worse. Every scenario will be more frightening than the one before.”

  “Kept you up last night?”

  “A little.”

  They reached the mayor’s office. Bailey Scott, Mayor Marsha’s assistant, smiled at them.

  “Hey, Shelby. You’re right on time.” Bailey, a beautiful, curvy redhead, stood and walked around her desk toward Aidan. “I’m not sure we’ve met.”

  “Aidan Mitchell.”

  “Bailey Scott.”

  They shook hands.

  “You’re married to Kenny Scott,” Aidan said. “He was such a great player. It was a shame when he retired.”

  Bailey grinned. “I’ll let him know you were a fan. Most days he’s happy to be out of it, but every now and then he thinks about those glory days. He’ll be pleased to know he’s not the only one.” Bailey looked at them both. “Mayor Marsha is waiting to see you. Let’s go on in.”

  Shelby had thought there would be more time to gather her thoughts, but before she could catch her breath, they were going through the large double doors that led to the mayor’s office.

  Mayor Marsha Tilson was California’s longest serving mayor. From what Shelby knew, the mayor was in her sixties, had been born and raised in Fool’s Gold and ran the town like a well-oiled machine. She was both loved and respected. To date, Shelby hadn’t met anyone who didn’t like her.