it with a thick padding, then tuck in the linens on top. She did that next, securing the sheet.
For Jack, she used moist heat on his shoulder. That was where he hurt all the time. He had a lot of general aches and pains, but his shoulder was where she concentrated her work. Kenny had injuries all over. He’d been hit the most and there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t cause him pain every now and then. Sam, as the kicker, had the fewest injuries.
Larissa found it interesting to work on them. They were athletes, yet so different from each other. Especially Taryn. She was smaller. Muscled, but compared with the guys, she was puny. Her massages were always later in the day. If all three guys needed Larissa in one morning, her hands, arms and shoulders were tired for hours. By contrast, massaging Taryn was practically a vacation. There weren’t any thick ropes of muscles to manipulate. No scarred cartilage to break down, no stiffness to ease.
Larissa crossed to her cabinet and pulled out the bottle of oil she used on Jack. Everything was personalized. That was the advantage of only having four massage clients, she thought. And the point of them having her on staff. She knew what they liked. She and Taryn talked about girl stuff. Sam never spoke at all. Kenny was friendly enough. He would mention a book he was reading or a movie he’d seen.
But with Jack it was ninety minutes of hanging out. They discussed everything from current events to restaurant reviews to the various causes he was supporting through her.
She glanced at the big clock on the wall and saw it was nearly time. She turned down the lights, then checked the temperature of the heating pad on the table.
Perfect, she thought, feeling the warmth through the soft sheet. She folded the top sheet back, and then pulled open a drawer and picked up her brush. She smoothed her long hair, then pulled it back into a ponytail. She pushed the drawer shut as Jack walked into her massage room.
“Hey,” he said by way of greeting.
“Hey, yourself.”
Jack wore a white terry-cloth robe, as he always did, along with shower shoes. Everyone came to her like that. She politely turned her back so he could hang the robe on the hook and slip onto the table.
In a spa setting, she would step out of the room. After all, during a massage, her clients were naked. But the first time she’d tried that with the guys here, they’d told her not to bother. As Kenny had put it, “None of us have anything you haven’t seen before.” There was also the fact that she was frequently called into the sauna to rub aching muscles and they were all naked there. It was weird, but she’d gotten used to it.
During her massage training there had been plenty of instruction on how to handle the awkward “you’re naked and I’m touching you” part of what she did. There were specific laws and codes of ethics that had to be followed. Not that her guys ever pushed the boundaries. They weren’t like that.
None of them wanted to be covered at all when they were facedown. Larissa had fought that battle and lost the first year. When they turned over, she draped a towel across the, ah, private areas. Taryn didn’t even want to bother with that. As for the natural male reaction to a woman touching his body...Kenny sometimes got an erection, but he laughed about it. His humor made her completely comfortable with the situation. Sam rarely got hard. The man had a will of iron. And Jack, well, he seemed to fall in the Sam camp.
Now she waited until she heard Jack slide onto the massage table.
“Why do you always put out that stupid sheet?” he asked.
“Because it’s my job.”
She turned and saw the top sheet had been kicked to the floor, just like always. The regularity of the event made her smile.
She picked up the sheet and tossed it in her dirty linens bin, then collected the moist heat pack. She worked quickly to slide it into its cover, then wrapped the ribbed warmth around Jack’s right shoulder. There it would loosen the muscles and scarring while she worked on the rest of his back.
She began the massage by touching his upper arms, then moving across his back. She felt for any new tension, any areas of tenderness. Her touch was sure as she lightly kneaded familiar muscles. She worked her way down to the small of his back before retracing her steps.
“Taryn’s keeping a stash of bridal magazines in her office,” she said conversationally. “But when I asked her if she and Angel had set a date, she wouldn’t say. I think she’s weirded out about what to do.”
As she spoke, she dug into his left shoulder. While it was nowhere near as beat-up as the right, he’d suffered plenty of hits on that side.
“Taryn can’t figure out if she wants a big wedding or to run off,” Jack said, his voice slightly muffled.
“I know. A couple of days ago she announced she’s having a big wedding. Yesterday she said they were going to elope. I hope she decides on having a wedding. She would totally rock a great designer dress. It would be like theater.”
“You’d have to dress up, too,” he pointed out.
Not her favorite thing. “I could manage for a day. Would you give her away?”
She asked the question without thinking, then remembered Jack and Taryn had been married briefly. She’d gotten pregnant and he’d insisted they do the right thing. When she lost the baby a few weeks later, they’d gotten divorced. As far as Larissa knew, they’d never been in love and the topic of their marriage wasn’t the least bit sensitive. At least not on the surface.
“Taryn wouldn’t appreciate the idea of being given or taken,” he said. “My guess is if she goes the big wedding route, she’ll hustle herself down the aisle.”
Larissa began to work on his back. His skin was warm and the oil she used allowed her hands to slide easily. The rhythm of her movements anchored her in place. The music was nice. Soothing, she thought.
“I got another call about the chiweenies,” she told him. “They’re going to make one more visit to talk to the lady. They’re pretty sure it’s a hoarding situation. The animal-rescue people are working with local law enforcement to get her to surrender the animals to avoid charges.”
“You’re not bringing dogs to my house.”
She smiled. “Would I do that?”
“In a heartbeat.”
* * *
JACK DID HIS best to give himself over to the massage. Much of the time, being worked on by Larissa was the best part of his day. His shoulder provided a steady ache and as he wouldn’t take drugs for it, he’d learned to live with the pain.
The heat pack she used eased some of it. Later she would dig her needle fingers into the joints, searching out scarring and grinding it into submission. That part wasn’t fun, but the result was relief—at least for a few hours.
Her voice washed over him. She told him about her causes and what was happening in town. Sometimes he listened and sometimes he didn’t. He’d learned that if it was important, she would tell him again.
But today he couldn’t relax. Not the way he usually did. Something was off. Not the massage table. It was the same, as were the sheets and the music. Even the oil she used was familiar.
But
