Until We Touch. Сьюзен Мэллери

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Until We Touch - Сьюзен Мэллери

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been a long time,” Isabel said.

      “It has.” Patience nodded. “So, what brings you to town? Are you meeting with the mayor about the annexation?”

      One dark eyebrow rose.

      “Everyone knows about it,” Isabel added. “It shouldn’t change anything for you.”

      “So I heard.”

      His eyes were dark blue and his gaze steady. He wasn’t looking at Larissa and a part of her was grateful to avoid all that male attention. She had enough stress in her life with Jack. She wasn’t looking for a crush on a taciturn cowboy.

      “How’s Chase?” Patience asked.

      Isabel turned to Larissa. “That’s his younger brother,” she said in a low voice.

      “Good.”

      “And the, um, steers and everything?”

      He nodded, as if to say it was all fine.

      Patience and Isabel looked at each other, then back at him.

      “We won’t keep you,” Patience said. “It was good to see you.”

      Zane nodded again.

      The women turned around and left. Larissa trailed after them. When they reached the sidewalk, the two of them hung on to each other and jumped up and down.

      “He’s so amazing,” Isabel said. “He smiled.”

      “I saw. We talked to him.” Patience sighed. “That was so great.”

      Larissa shook her head. “You do realize he spoke maybe eight words, right?”

      “That’s not the point,” Isabel told her. “I got to be sixteen again. Even if it was just for a minute. That was totally fun. I can’t wait to tell Ford. He’ll probably remember Zane and tease me unmercifully.”

      She sounded cheerful at the prospect.

      Patience laughed. “Yes, I’m sure Justice will do the same.” She hugged Larissa. “Thanks for joining us.”

      “You’re welcome. And you’re weird.”

      “We know.”

      Larissa waved at them and started back toward Score. She loved the town, but there were elements she would never understand. Like Patience’s and Isabel’s wild crush on cowboy Zane. But it was sure fun to be a part of it all.

      * * *

      LARISSA RUBBED HER hands across Taryn’s back. Her movements were long and slow, designed to relax, rather than heal. Taryn was easy, she thought humorously. While her friend would think she was muscled, compared with the guys, she was a wimp. Not that Larissa was ever going to say that.

      She liked working on Taryn. The movements were different and they talked about girl stuff, which was nice. There was no discussion of the latest score for whatever game was in season. And during play-offs, she didn’t have to remind Taryn to stay relaxed during the massage. Because the guys always got riled up during play-offs.

      Later she would see Jack, then Kenny. By the end of the day, her hands would be tired, but that came with the job.

      Her fingers moved against smooth skin. The oil—a calming blend with a nice moisturizer—always left her skin silky.

      She liked the differences between her clients. Sometimes she wondered what things would have been like if she’d actually gone into massage therapy instead of going to work for Score. She wondered if she would be at a spa of some kind or out on her own. While her room at the company was hers to do with as she liked, it wasn’t exactly the same as having her own business. Of course, the upside of that was she also didn’t have to worry about her budget. If she wanted a new table or different linens or new anything, she simply had to tell Sam and he ordered it for her.

      But to be her own boss would be a different kind of challenge, she thought. First she would have to get certified. Easy enough. She had the education and the work experience. One day, she told herself. One day.

      She pressed in around Taryn’s scapula. The tension there surprised her.

      “Why aren’t you relaxing?” she asked.

      Taryn sighed. “Sorry. I have stuff on my mind.”

      “Like?”

      “The wedding.”

      “I thought Dellina would be handling the details. No one plans a party better.”

      “It’s not the planning. It’s the having.” She raised her head and looked at Larissa. “I can’t decide. On the one hand a big wedding would be nice, but doesn’t a small one make more sense? It’s not like Angel and I are twenty.”

      “All the more reason to do what you know you want. Taryn, seriously, you don’t do anything small. It’s not your style. Have a dream wedding that makes us all envious and wear a killer dress. We need that in our lives. You’re our inspiration.”

      Taryn smiled, then lowered her head. “You’re very good to me.”

      “I’m your friend. Be happy. March your skinny-assed self down a long aisle somewhere fabulous. Have a band and your Acorns as bridesmaids.”

      “They’re Sprouts.”

      “What?”

      “The girls. They were Acorns last year. They’ll be Sprouts this year.” The Acorns, or Sprouts, were part of a group called Future Warriors of the Máa-zib. It was Fool’s Gold own version of scouting, based on the ancient tribe that had first settled in the area.

      “Whatever. Have your Sprout bridesmaids and little tuxedo-decorated truffles as favors for the guests. Go for it—just because you can.”

      Taryn raised her head again. “How do you know about tuxedo decorated truffles?”

      Larissa grinned. “I have two married sisters. I went through all this twice. When it comes to a wedding it’s all about the dress and the details.”

      “I guess. It just feels weird.”

      “Because you never thought you’d fall madly in love.”

      Taryn put her head down. “Maybe. Mostly.” She sighed. “Angel is so amazing.”

      “Yes, he is,” Larissa said, thinking that he was also a tiny bit scary. Taryn was his equal. There weren’t many women who could say that.

      She moved down her friend’s back. “Jack won’t mind if you have a big wedding,” she said quietly.

      Taryn tensed, then relaxed. “I hate it when you read my mind.”

      “It doesn’t take a lot of skill. You’re family, which is sweet, but you were also married before. That makes it weird.”

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