Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)

“I don’t accept that,” she snapped. “You can tell the rest of the world you don’t give a shit, but I know differently.”


“You don’t know as much as you think you know. Too many people want too much. You’re all dragging me down. Percy was dead weight.”

He had no idea where the words were coming from, but he couldn’t stop them. He narrowed his gaze.

“You may not like the truth,” he continued, “but that doesn’t change it. I’m the guy who writes a check.”

“There’s more to you than that,” she said firmly.

“You think? I can prove it. I don’t care that Percy’s gone. As for you, I’m not interested in being in your wedding. You have enough people helping you play princess.”

Taryn’s face went white. She sucked in a breath, but didn’t speak. Just as well, because he was already walking out the door.

* * *

LARISSA PAUSED IN the center of town. The decorations were up for the Fall Festival the following weekend. Normally she loved seeing the process of “dressing” the storefronts and streetlights. But today seeing it all didn’t seem to be helping. Everything was wrong and she didn’t know how to make it right. In a matter of a couple of days, her whole world was upside down.

Percy was still gone. He’d gotten a job working for Josh Golden at the cycling school. He was learning how to repair the bikes and keep them ready for the rental side of the business. He said the halfway house was a good place to be and Kenny and Sam swore he was still coming in for his tutoring sessions.

But it wasn’t the same, she thought sadly. Percy wasn’t a part of her day-to-day life. She didn’t see him as much. Which, she realized, made it all about her. What was far more important was what had happened between Percy and Jack. Because that had been the beginning of the trouble.

She hadn’t seen Jack since Tuesday. He hadn’t been in the office and Taryn wasn’t talking and from what she could tell, Kenny and Sam were genuinely clueless.

The two remaining chiweenies with Jack were still being walked by volunteers and none of them claimed to have seen him. What really had her worried was he wasn’t taking her calls. Jack always took her calls. Two years ago, he’d answered her call while having sex with one of his bimbos. But now he wouldn’t talk to her? What was going on?

Her cell phone rang. She grabbed it and pushed the button.

“Hello? Jack?”

“Uh, no. This is Martin Guley. I got your name from a mutual friend. I work for an animal shelter in Sacramento and we have an unusual situation. A family took in a mountain lion as a cub. Now she’s grown to the point where they can’t keep her and I was told you might be able to help. We only need a home for her until we can figure out what to do. So a few weeks at best. She’s friendly, but she can be a little rough on the furniture.”

Larissa’s first instinct was to say of course she could help with the mountain lion. Jack’s place was plenty big. Only she’d been forced to admit that maybe she was guilty of hiding behind her causes. She couldn’t rescue the world. Her time would be far better spent trying to make her little piece of it better.

“Martin, I’m afraid I can’t take in a mountain lion right now. However, I do have the names of several large-cat rescue facilities. They’ll have the space and the resources to help. I’m on my way home right now. I’ll email you the contact info within the hour.”

“Thanks so much,” Martin said gratefully. “I’m new to the shelter and I didn’t know what to do.”

“Not a problem.”

She hung up and started walking toward her apartment. She would get Martin the information he needed, then get a couple of cat cuddles from Dyna to heal her restless heart. But after that, she didn’t have a plan...except maybe to confront Jack and get to the bottom of what on earth was going on.

* * *

LARISSA LET HERSELF into Jack’s house around four that afternoon. “It’s me,” she called as she closed the front door behind her.

The last two chiweenies came running to greet her. She petted them both, then walked into the large living room.

“Jack?”

“I’m here.”

He was sitting on the sofa. His hair was a mess and he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, which made her wonder if he’d showered. He wore a worn T-shirt over jeans. His feet were bare. One of his dress shirts lay in tatters on the carpet by the coffee table. It had obviously been sacrificed to the chiweenies. More troubling was the bottle of Scotch in front of him and the half-empty glass next to it.

She bit her lower lip. Jack wasn’t one to drink alone and certainly not in the middle of the day. Something was very, very wrong.

She crossed to the sofa and sat angled toward him. He didn’t bother looking at her. Instead, he stared straight ahead, but with purpose. As if there was something going on that only he could see.