Until We Touch (12 page)

Which was more than Jack knew. No doubt Larissa would have told him the details, but he liked to be as uninformed as possible. It made his life simpler.

“Did she mention how long it was staying?” he asked.

“Three days. By then it should be able to fly. Once it’s ready, it’ll be released in the wild.” He sounded excited. “She’s going to show me how to feed it and everything.”

“I hope it’s not a raptor.”

“You mean like a dinosaur?”

“No. A raptor is a bird of prey. Like an eagle or a hawk.” Because Jack was starting to have a bad feeling about the whole bird rescue-visit thing. No good deed, he reminded himself.

“She wouldn’t do that,” Percy said confidently.

“Uh-huh.” Jack was less sure. After all, she’d left fighting dogs in his living room before.

They approached the house where they lived. From the outside, everything looked normal, but he knew better than to take any chances.

When they were on the front porch, he carefully inserted his key into the lock and turned it. The door opened slowly. He flipped on a couple of lights.

Immediately a loud squawking and hooting filled the house. The screeches were loud and angry. And whatever was making the sounds wasn’t tiny.

Percy’s eyes widened. “What do you think that is?”

“I have no idea.”

They both stood on the porch. Jack motioned for Percy to go first.

“It’s your house, man,” the teen said. “The honor is yours.”

Jack grimaced. “Maybe, but you’re younger and faster. I say it’s time for you to earn your keep.”

“Chicken,” Percy said.

“If it’s a chicken, then you can mock me all you want.”

Percy passed over his computer bag and then slowly, carefully, walked through the foyer and into the living room beyond.

“Oh, man, talk about a beauty.”

The words were hard to understand because the mystery bird was throwing yet another hissy fit. Jack swore under his breath, then followed the kid into the living room where he found a cage that nearly filled the entire room.

All his furniture had been pushed back to the edges of the room. Protective tarps had been placed on the floor. The cage itself had to be at least ten feet high and inside of it was a massive owl.

“Oh, good, he’s here.”

Both Jack and Percy jumped. Larissa came in from behind them.

“What?” she demanded. “Are you frightened of her? Or him?” She tilted her head. “Now that you mention it, no one told me the gender. Maybe they didn’t want to be rude and look.” She smiled. “Either way, our owl is beautiful.”

“It’s a woman,” Jack said flatly. “Look at how she’s glaring at us.”

Larissa laughed. “You might be right. Anyway, this is our guest. She’s a Northern Spotted Owl. There are only five or six hundred breeding pairs in California, so keeping her safe is important. She’s nocturnal, she eats small rodents and she prefers old-growth forests. She’ll be returned there in a few days, when she’s fully healed.”

The owl in question continued to glare, then she turned her head away.

“Her eyes are dark, unlike most owl species. They usually have light-colored eyes.”

“Someone’s been on Wikipedia,” Jack murmured, wondering how loud the damn owl was going to be.

“The wilderness group sent me material. You can see why I couldn’t take her home. I don’t have room for the cage. Plus, Dyna would have been at risk.”

Jack glanced at the owl and figured it could eat a whole cat with no problem. He returned his attention to Larissa. She beamed at the bird as if it were the most perfect creature ever invented. And to her, it probably was. Until the next rescue.

Her blue eyes were fixated on the bird. Her mouth was parted a tiny bit and color lightly stained her smooth skin.

She was lovely, he thought in surprise. Sure, she always looked good. Casual and easygoing. But there was something different about how she looked today, although he couldn’t figure out what the change was.

“That owl is incredible,” Percy said, moving a little closer. “Angry, but who wants to live in a cage?”

“She won’t for long,” Larissa assured him.

Jack stared at the floor of the cage. “What’s that stuff?” he asked. There were odd-shaped things.

“A bird’s gotta do what a bird’s gotta do,” Percy told him.

“I don’t think so,” Jack said as he inched closer to the cage.

“That’s from her dinner,” Larissa said cheerfully. “She eats her food whole then throws up the fur and bone.”

“Of course she does,” Jack said grimly while Percy started to laugh.

* * *

J
ACK
TURNED
IN
close to eleven. But the second he clicked on the bedside light, he knew it was going to be a very long night.

Despite being an entire floor below, with at least one closed door between them, Jack could still clearly hear the owl protesting her confinement. Hoots and screeches were followed by just enough silence for him to get sleepy. Then she started up again.

He turned onto his side and punched his pillow. Not that it would help. Because the owl was only part of the problem. Larissa was the other part. Kissing her had been a mistake. Not because he hadn’t liked it, but because it had changed things between them. Inevitable, he supposed. Now he had to figure out a way to put the genie back in the bottle.

With any other woman, he could simply end things. But there wasn’t anything to end. Not technically. Besides, Larissa was an integral part of his life. Like air—he needed her to survive. She was the best part of him. Without her, he was nothing but an empty shell. Why would he want that when he could be—at least in her eyes—a perfect hero?

CHAPTER TEN

“D
OESN
’
T
J
ACK
CARE
what you put on his calendar?” Percy asked. “You could write in anything. Like send him to Omaha for no reason.”

Larissa grinned at the teen. “Technically that’s true, but why would I? Jack’s my boss and my friend. I don’t want to torture him.” No, what she had in mind for Jack had nothing to do with torture and everything to do with...

She cleared her throat and her mind.
Focus,
she told herself. No wayward sexual thoughts, especially not with Percy in the room. That would be too weird and icky.

Percy studied the calendar. They were in her office and she was explaining what her job entailed. Part of Percy’s education was to understand the workings of Score.

“Still, he has to really trust you, right?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. That’s part of the relationship.” She pointed to the different events. “It’s all color-coded. Speaking engagements, appearances for charity. Regular meetings.”

“Golf is a charity event?” Percy asked.

“It can be. There’s going to be a Pro-am here in a few weeks.”

Percy frowned. “What’s a Pro-am?”

“Professionals and amateurs playing together, only the amateurs are mostly celebrities.”

“Jack plays professionally?”

She clicked on the square in the calendar, expanding it to show all the information. “This is golf where he’s considered an amateur. It’s a fund-raiser for a local charity. Professional golfers come play with people from TV and the movies, along with some other athletes.”

“Like Jack.”

“Exactly.”

“Will you play?”

“I don’t like golf. Plus, the amateurs are really kind of famous in their own right.”

“Like Jack, Kenny and Sam.”

“Uh-huh.”

The teen leaned forward in his chair. “That makes sense. ’Cuz if people are going to pay to watch you play golf, you’d better be somebody they admire or something.” He gave her a shy smile. “But you’re prettier than Jack.”

“Thank you, Percy.”

He turned his attention back to the calendar. “You do a lot of massages.”

They were in purple on the calendar. She clicked a tab, which shifted the screen to her weekly schedule. “I do less than I would if that was my full-time job,” she told him. “But that’s okay. I like the variety.”

“Did you have to study to do massages?”

“I did. I had to learn about muscles and how the body works. Once I’d completed my instruction, I had to practice by giving massages. There are a certain number of hours required to be certified.”

Which she wasn’t, she reminded herself. She had the paperwork, the hours and the education. She really needed to get off her butt and send in the paperwork. Not that it would change her life at Score, but it would be nice to know she was employable anywhere.

Percy looked around at her office. “Even this is nice,” he said, then cleared his throat. “I mean the other offices are really big.”

“Tell me about it,” she said with a grin. “You could practically go bowling in Jack’s office. I’m fine with something a whole lot smaller.” Besides, this was just for scheduling and making calls. Her real work was done in the massage room.

“I never knew businesses were like this,” Percy told her. “All fancy and high-tech. It’s nice.”

“Maybe you’ll get a job in a place like this,” she told him. “After you go to college.”

“I’d like that. Only college is a long way away. First I have to get my GED.”

“And you will. Then you’ll go to college.”

His expression was doubtful. “Everyone here keeps talking about college, like everyone should go. But it’s not like that. Where I’m from, you did what you had to so you could get by.”

Life in the inner city. She had no frame of reference for that, Larissa thought. No moment to bond over.

“College gives you opportunities. Choices. You’re right—not everyone has that in their future. But you do now. I hope you’ll take advantage of the chance.”

He shifted on his chair. “I don’t know anyone who went to college. Not ever. My grandma didn’t get past the seventh grade. None of my friends where I grew up were going to do much more than join a gang.”

She’d been born and raised in Los Angeles, she thought. Probably not thirty miles from where Percy had spent most of his life. Yet they had very different world views.

“Change is hard,” she admitted. “This is big change for you.”

“But a good one,” he said. “I know I got lucky when you found me in the park.”

She smiled at him. “We’re happy to have you here.”

“You’re nice. Everyone here is. Sam’s kind of quiet, but he was explaining what he did. With the money and stuff. And Taryn’s tough on the outside, but inside she’s real soft. But she doesn’t want anyone to know. Kenny’s a good guy, but there’s, like, a wall.”

Larissa did her best not to react. Percy’s assessments were more accurate than she’d expected. Impressively so. “What about Jack?” she asked.

Percy grinned. “You boss him around.”

“I don’t!”

“Yeah, you do, and he likes it.”

* * *

T
HE
N
ORTHERN
S
POTTED
Owl didn’t look the least bit amused by the process of being moved. Wildlife sanctuary workers had maneuvered her into a smaller cage, which she hadn’t liked at all. She screeched out her displeasure, her large wings flapping against the bars of the cage. Jack kept his distance and hoped the opening was secure because when that bird was finally free, she was so going to take out her bad temper on whoever was closest. He wanted to make sure that wasn’t him.

The guys dismantled the larger cage, then carried it out to their truck. On their second trip into the house, Larissa followed them.

She was dressed as she always was. Yoga pants, a short-sleeved T-shirt and athletic shoes. Her long blond hair had been pulled back in a ponytail. Her face was clean and free of makeup. He happened to know she would smell like whatever scented body lotion she was currently using. For the past couple of days it had been a sweet kind of garden-y scent she said was verbena. Whatever the hell that was.

The week before it had been lemon and the previous month she’d gone on a vanilla binge. Regardless of the lotion, under the verbena, the lemon or the vanilla was the essence of Larissa herself. A warm, welcoming fragrance that had always been like home to him. Although these days it was home with an edge.

The taller of the two owl-retrieval guys—probably in his mid-twenties—dropped his gaze to Larissa’s ass. His eyes widened appreciatively. Jack told himself it was okay for them to look and that his urge to put his fist through the guy’s face wasn’t an impulse he was going to act on. Still, he moved closer to her.

“Hey,” he said, putting his arm around her.

She looked up at him. “Wendy’s leaving already?”

“Wendy?”

“The owl.”

“I got that, but why Wendy?”

“I don’t know. She looked like a Wendy to me. They called a bit ago and said they were taking her back.” She sighed. “I’m glad she’s better, but I didn’t get to spend as much time with her as I would have liked.”

Jack normally would have teased her about the name and wanting to spend time with an owl whose idea of a party was eating small animals. But he was a little distracted by how good it felt to pull Larissa close. She was tall, but shorter than him. Slender—almost fragile. He knew she was strong and capable but at that moment, she seemed...delicate.

“There’ll be another owl,” he told her. “Or some other woodland creature you can bond with.”

She laughed. “Did you just say ‘woodland creature’?”

“I did.”

The two guys carried the transport cage to the truck. Wendy glared as she squawked and threatened. Larissa sighed.

“She’ll be released later today. That’s good. I mean the purpose was to provide her with a place to stay and you did that.”

He’d done nothing but provide housing, but if she wanted to make him a hero, he was willing to go with it.

Once Wendy and her escorts had driven away, he closed the front door, then walked into the living room. All the furniture had been pushed to the outside walls. The tarps on the floors had protected the flooring from Wendy’s need to spit up bones and fur.

Jack went to the largest sofa and reached down to shift it back into place. It moved easily, but as he shifted positions, he felt a familiar burning in his right shoulder. The one that told him all the scar tissue was tight and that it was going to be a very long night.

The cause was simple—too much football and not enough healing. He couldn’t change the reality of either problem. He’d made his choice to play the game and he didn’t regret one second of his time in the sport. As for the healing, well, there was only so much any one body could do.

While Larissa pushed the smaller chairs into place, he tackled the second sofa. They walked to the big, square coffee table at the same time.

“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.”