Until We Touch

by Susan Mallery

  “It’s too heavy for you,” he told her.

  “I’m tough. Besides, I’m not the one who’s hurting.”

  He wasn’t surprised she’d noticed. Larissa knew his body as well as he did. Usually that wasn’t a problem. Her familiarity with his aches and pains meant that when she worked him over, he was good for a couple of days. But lately he’d been avoiding her. Or rather her massages. Time on the table had become uncomfortable and it had nothing to do with his destroyed right shoulder.

  They carried the coffee table into place. A couple of lamps later, the room was back to normal. She headed for the kitchen.

  “Come on,” she called over her shoulder. “You know you need this.”

  He hesitated only a second, then trailed after her. While she went to the half bath to get a bottle of lotion, he unbuttoned his cuffs, then moved to the front of the shirt. By the time he sat down in the kitchen chair she’d pulled out, he had his shirt in his hands. She took it from him and tossed it onto the table. She moved to his right side and pressed her fingers into his shoulder.

  The relief was nearly as powerful as the ache. She knew exactly how hard to press and where the scar tissue thickened. She was able to dig deeper, to find the places that bothered him the most, and release the buildup of acid and pain. Massages with her weren’t gentle and they weren’t pleasant, but when she was done, he was healed. At least for a couple of days.

  He relaxed into the familiar burning, knowing he would sleep better because of it. At the same time, he half expected her to yell at him for avoiding their sessions. Or at least ask why he had. Only what was he supposed to say to that? The truth was impossible. No way he could admit he was terrified he would get turned on again. Talk about humiliating.

  Twenty minutes later, she stepped back. “Better?”

  “Much. Thanks.” He reached for his shirt and shrugged it on. “Want to get lunch?”

  “Sure. What do you have in the refrigerator?”

  He had no idea. She was forever putting stuff in there, then later, throwing it out if he didn’t eat it. As he watched, she crossed the hardwood floor and opened the refrigerator.

  “There’s plenty. We’ll have a bit of everything. How does that sound?”

  “Good.”

  He rotated his arm, testing his shoulder. The ache had faded to a manageable level. When he went back to the office, he would spend some time in the steam room and be practically like new.

  At her instruction, he collected plates and bowls, along with forks, knives and napkins. She heated containers in the microwave, then put food on the table.

  There was an eclectic collection of leftover Chinese and Italian, a salad from a bag and couple of microwaveable burritos. He grabbed a diet cola for her and a bottle of water for himself, then joined her at the table.

  “Quite the feast,” he said as he sat across from her.

  She grinned. “I really wanted to add Cheetos, but that seemed too much.”

  “There’s always room for Cheetos.”

  “There is.”

  She took a serving spoonful of spicy cashew chicken and passed him the carton.

  “I’m worried about Percy,” she said as she licked her fingers.

  Jack found himself more interested in what she was doing with her mouth than anything she might say. A dangerous state of affairs, he reminded himself, and forced his attention back to the topic at hand.

  “Why?”

  She took a small serving of lasagna. “We were talking about him going to college. He doesn’t know anyone who’s done that. I think he’s nervous about having too many choices. For some people, dreaming can be dangerous.”

  A problem Jack understood. Lucas hadn’t allowed himself to dream. He’d been careful to think in terms of days, not months or years. Later, when he’d had his heart transplant, the future had been his. There had been so much he’d wanted to see and do. The whole family had started to believe in possibilities. Only they’d been wrong about them.

  “First Percy has to get his GED,” Jack said, knowing he wasn’t going to mention his brother.

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Once he has that, the next step will be more logical. We’ll start small. Community college.”

  “He’s going to need a job. A real one. Not just extra work at Score,” she said. “Something where he feels really useful.”

  “You don’t think he feels useful at Score? Taryn’s a tough taskmaster.”

  “She is, but Percy knows he’s only there because of you.”

  Jack took a bite of the burrito and chewed. Who knew that jalapeño-flavored beans went well with marinara sauce?

  “He’s not there because of me,” he said when he’d swallowed. “You’re the one who found him. I don’t get any of the credit.”

  “He’s living with you. You’re the one he looks up to.”

  Jack shrugged. “Like I said, he’ll figure it out. One step at a time.”

  She bit her lower lip. “I hope you’re right.”

  “When am I wrong?”

  The worry didn’t leave her eyes. “What if the whole nurture-nature thing is right? What if Percy can’t escape his environment?”

  “He’s young enough to learn a new way of doing things. He’s a good kid. He wants more than he has. He was smart enough and determined enough to get to Fool’s Gold. He knew it would be a better place for him. And thanks to you, it is. Now have a little faith.”

  Jack reached for his water and took a swallow.

  “You’ll talk to him about safe sex?” she asked.

  He started to choke.

  Larissa waited until he could breathe again. “I need you to say yes.”

  “I’m not talking about the birds and bees with Percy.”

  “I’m sure he knows where babies come from. He needs to practice safe sex. Having a child now would make things really hard on him. He needs a chance to fulfill his potential.”

  And things had been going so well for at least the past—Jack checked his watch—fifteen minutes.

  “I don’t get an entire day after Wendy leaves before you drop this particular bomb on me?”

  She didn’t smile. If anything, her mouth turned down. “Jack, I’m serious. What if he got a girl pregnant?”

  At least one of them would be getting some, he thought grimly. But that wasn’t her point. Larissa’s concern had a whole lot more to do with her past than with Percy. Not that she would admit it.

  He stared into her blue eyes and saw the weariness of carrying around unreasonable guilt for years. It didn’t matter that her mother getting pregnant twenty-nine years ago wasn’t her fault. It didn’t matter that her father had wanted to do the right thing and that two people who never should have gotten married had. It wasn’t her responsibility that they’d been desperately unhappy until they’d finally divorced.

  Larissa was the oldest child. She considered herself the reason her parents had been forced into an unhappy marriage. The fact that they were now happily married to other people didn’t make her feel better at all.

  Had she been nearly anyone else, he would have told her to get over it. But he couldn’t. Because he carried the same type of guilt around, too. Not about his parents, but about his brother.

  “Jack?”

  “I’ll talk to him,” he said. “I promise.”

  “Soon, right?”

  “Yes, soon. Right after I finish banging my head against the wall.”

  The worry faded as she smiled. “You always say that, but I’ve never seen you do it.”

  “Some things are best done in private. How’s Dyna?”

  “Beautiful. It’s nice to have a warm, furry body in bed with me.” She held up her hand. “Do not make any cracks about the guys I’ve dated
.”

  “Would I do that?” he asked.

  “In a heartbeat.”

  * * *

  THE REST OF lunch passed in easy conversation. Larissa ate too much, but how was she supposed to choose just a couple of things when there were so many options?

  She leaned back in her chair as Jack cleared the table. He was moving better now, she thought, noticing the lack of stiffness in his shoulder.

  “You know there’s surgery,” she said before she could stop herself.

  Jack scraped the plates into the sink, then ran water and turned on the garbage disposal. When he walked back to the table, he put both hands on her shoulders, then bent down and kissed the top of her head.

  “No.”

  “They’ve made advances. It could help.”

  “I’ve had surgery. It didn’t help.”

  “It helped a little.”

  “Not enough.”

  He released her and she scrambled to her feet, prepared to take him on. Because this was important. He was always in pain and what if she wasn’t around to make him feel better?

  “Taryn find her dress yet?” he asked in a very obvious attempt to change the subject. “Because I have to tell you, I don’t think I can take another afternoon in a wedding-gown store.”

  “She’s decided and she’s going to look beautiful.”

  “Good. She and Angel are good together. They fit.”

  He was relaxed as he spoke. There was no tension, no sense of hesitation. She knew in her heart that whatever had happened between them all those years ago had never grown into anything more than friendship. They hadn’t been in love.

  Because being in love would change everything. Being in love meant always thinking about the other person. It meant wanting to be close, having everything divided into Jack or not Jack. It meant being happier when he was around and needing his smile, his touch, like she needed air.

  “Larissa?”

  Jack’s voice came from very far away. Like through water. Or over a distance. She could hear him but she couldn’t react. She was too busy trying to stay standing as the truth slammed into her. That her mother had been right all along. She was in love with Jack.

  “I have to go,” she said as she raced for the front door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.” Everything. “I’m fine.” She would never be fine again.

  * * *

  LARISSA DIDN’T REMEMBER much about getting from Jack’s house to the Score offices. She was out of breath so she’d probably run more than she was used to. She hurried into the building and raced down the hall. She flung open the door to Taryn’s office and stared at her friend.

  Taryn was on the phone. She glanced up, took one look at Larissa and spoke into the receiver. “Jenny, I’m going to have to call you back...Uh-huh. This afternoon. I promise.” She hung up and stood. “Who’s dead?”

  “No one. Everyone is fine.”

  Taryn’s brows drew together. “You don’t look like everyone is fine.”

  “They are. It’s not that. It’s me. It’s my mother. She was right.”

  Larissa didn’t want to say the words out loud, so she waited for the truth to sink in. Taryn’s violet eyes widened.

  Her friend swore. “Seriously? You’re in love with Jack?”

  “I think so. Maybe. I was having lunch with him and he mentioned how you and Angel fit. And then I started thinking what it means to be in love.” She paused for breath. “Is it possible?”

  Taryn sank back into her chair. “Dear God, I hope not.”

  Larissa settled across from her. “Because it will end badly.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. Jack doesn’t commit to anyone. He won’t let himself get that involved.” The worry returned. “You know that, right?”

  Larissa nodded. “Of course. I’ve seen him with his women. He’s good for a few weeks and then he’s gone.” She was still trying to absorb the unexpected truth. In love with Jack? Seriously?

  She didn’t have to ask how it had happened. He was a great guy. Giving to her causes, always there for her. Funny, charming, sexy. Maybe loving him had been inevitable.

  “I really hate that my mother was right,” she admitted.

  “That would be annoying.”

  “It could be a stage in my emotional development,” she said slowly, thinking aloud. “Being around him like I have, maybe I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “I warned you about him when you first started.”

  “And that was supposed to be enough?”

  Taryn sighed. “I suppose not. So now what?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I have to figure out a way to get over him.”

  “You’re not going to try to get him to fall in love with you?”

  “No way. That’s not possible.” Although it was nice to think about. “If Jack was going to see me as anything more than his friend, don’t you think it would have happened by now?”

  “Good point. So how exactly do you plan to get over Jack? He’s kind of a great guy.”

  “How did you get over him?”

  “I was never in love with him. We were friends and we still are.”

  Oh, right. “So how do women get over any guy? You see him as he is, not as you want him to be. I need to focus on Jack’s flaws. He doesn’t commit, he’s emotionally unavailable.”

  “Those would be the same thing,” Taryn murmured.

  “Okay, so there are others. He’s not good boyfriend material. I know that. I’ve seen him with his other women. He’s...” Larissa felt the pieces fall into place. “I have an unrealistic view of what a relationship with Jack would be like. I’ve only seen that part of his life from the outside.”

  “No,” Taryn said firmly. “I’m not sure where this is going, but I don’t like it.”

  “It’s brilliant,” Larissa told her. “Totally brilliant. I’m not going to convince Jack to fall in love with me, I’m going to convince him to have an affair with me. Then he won’t be a romantic hero anymore. He’ll just be this guy I used to date. And then I’ll fall out of love with him.”

  Taryn’s gaze was steady. “That is possibly the stupidest idea ever.”

  “No, it’s brilliant. You’ll see.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “WHO ARE WE MEETING?” Larissa asked as she walked with Bailey to Brew-haha.

  “Her name is Shelby Gilmore. She’s Kipling Gilmore’s sister.” Bailey grinned. “You know Kipling Gilmore, right?”

  “Not personally, but I might have caught one or two of his events on TV,” Larissa admitted. Kipling had been a fantastic skier and had won two gold medals at the Olympic Games earlier that year. But right now she wasn’t all that interested in him or any other man who wasn’t Jack.

  Not that she’d figured out what she was going to do about him, but she was mulling and eventually she would come up with a plan.

  “I saw him, too,” Bailey said. “He’s totally hot.”

  “So there’s an ulterior motive for helping his sister?”

  Bailey laughed. “Not even close. Mayor Marsha asked that I help make Shelby feel at home. I’m still not sure how to do that myself, so I dragged you along. This has nothing to do with Kipling. He’s just a frame of reference.”

  “Uh-huh. Like I buy that. So you’re saying if he asked you out right now, you’d refuse?”

  Bailey hesitated just long enough for Larissa to come to a stop and face her. “What?” she demanded. “Or rather, who? There’s somebody if you’re not accepting a date with Kipling Gilmore. I’ve heard he’s really nice. Why don’t you want to go out with him?”

  Bailey laughed. “Maybe because I’ve never met the man and he certainly hasn’t asked me on a date. Besi
des, even if he were my type, which he’s not, you forget. I’m a single mom. It’s the best anti-date charm there is.”

  Larissa hadn’t thought about that. Chloe, Bailey’s daughter, was adorable. Funny and sweet. She showed up at Score from time to time to get help with various FWM projects. The FWM—Future Warriors of the Máa-zib—was kind of like a scouting organization. But local, and with a Fool’s Gold twist.

  “I thought guys were over worrying about women with kids,” she said.

  “Not as much as you might think. But it’s fine. I’m not looking to get involved. Or date.” Her tone was a little wistful.

  “You don’t sound convinced.”

  Bailey sighed. “Okay, one hot night with Kipling Gilmore would go a long way toward brightening up my week, but that’s as much as I’m willing to commit to.”

  “It’s enough.”

  “What about you?” Bailey asked. “Any interest in the hunky skier?”

  “I’m around hunky athletes all day,” Larissa reminded her as they crossed the street and approached the coffee shop. “I’m not looking for more.”

  Nope, what she was looking for was a way to get over Jack. As she’d told Taryn, having a romantic—i.e., sexual—relationship with the man seemed like the best way to get over him. The only stumbling block was how she was going to get him to figure out he wanted her. Assuming he did.

  They walked into Brew-haha. The coffee place was well lit and welcoming with lots of primary colors and an exceptional display of tempting pastries. There were a dozen or so tables, most of them empty in the middle of the afternoon. But a lone woman sat at one of them.

  “That’s her,” Bailey said in a low voice. “I saw a picture.”

  Shelby Gilmore was probably in her mid-twenties. She had gold-blond hair that fell past her shoulders and big blue eyes. She was petite, almost delicate. No, Larissa thought, suddenly feeling she had too long arms and legs and was way too tall. Not delicate. Ethereal. Like a fairy princess who had gotten caught in the wrong reality.

  Talk about fanciful, she told herself. Where had that come from?

  Shelby looked up as they approached the table. While she smiled, her gaze was wary.