Until We Touch

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Until We Touch Page 14

by Susan Mallery


  “At least they have a good name,” Percy said. “They’re the Warriors. That’s from the town. The Máa-zib tribe that settled here. Larissa was telling me about it.”

  “Did she also tell you the Máa-zib are matriarchal?”

  Percy looked blank.

  Jack grinned. “That means the structure of the tribe was based on women having the power instead of men. A male-dominated society is patriarchal. Like if a boy is born, he’ll be king, but women can’t rule.”

  “There’s a queen of England,” Percy said.

  “Right. But that’s only because there weren’t any male heirs. Prince Charles, her son, is her oldest child so her daughter will never rule.”

  “That sucks.”

  A generational comment, Jack thought humorously. He was pretty sure most men over the age of sixty would think nothing of that. But times had changed.

  Percy grinned. “So you’re saying the Cal U Fool’s Gold Warriors should have a woman dressed up like a warrior instead of a guy?”

  “Yup.”

  “Sweet. You gonna tell them?”

  “Probably not.”

  “If you change your mind, I want to be there,” Percy told him.

  “On the fringe of making trouble, but not actually doing it yourself?”

  The teen nodded. “All the show and none of the danger.”

  “My brother was like that,” Jack said without thinking.

  Percy glanced at him. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

  “I did. He died a long time ago.”

  Percy’s humor faded. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks. He was...” Jack hesitated, then figured what the hell. “He was seventeen. We both were. Lucas was my identical twin.” Although not completely identical, he thought. There was the matter of their very different hearts.

  “That had to be hard.”

  “It was,” Jack admitted. “He was a good guy. He saw the best in people. And he never complained.” Not about all the treatments, the surgeries, the suffering. Not even about whatever twist of fate had landed him with the crappy heart.

  “You still miss him.” Percy wasn’t asking a question.

  “Every day,” Jack admitted.

  The kid nodded. “It’s like that with my mom. Some days are easier, but I never forget her. I guess it’s always like that when someone you love dies.”

  They continued to walk toward Jack’s house. They were mostly silent, but it was companionable. He thought of his earlier conversation with Larissa. “So there’s going to be a bird at the house.”

  Percy nodded. “Larissa said something about it coming to stay for a few days. It’s nearly healed and they needed room for more injured birds.”

  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.

  * * *

  JACK 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 ow
l 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

  “DOESN’T JACK 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.”

  * * *

  THE NORTHERN SPOTTED 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?”

  “We
ndy?”

  “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.

 

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