Now it was his turn to not get it. “You haven’t talked to her?”
“I talk to her every day. I need context. Did she do something? Did you do something?”
The questions had easy answers, but he had a feeling they were talking in circles. “What do you know?” he asked.
“Nothing I’m telling you. You want answers, go see Larissa.”
There were answers?
Jack was out of his chair and through the door. He walked to the end of the hall and entered Larissa’s tiny office. She was already sitting at her computer.
“Hi,” she said cheerily when he entered. “What’s up? Oh, wow. You look tired. Didn’t you sleep?”
He closed the door and leaned against it. “Talk.”
“About?”
He raised one shoulder. “Whatever it is that has Taryn checking on me and asking what it is you’ve done. I’ll stay for as long as it takes. I have a clear morning.”
Larissa’s smile drooped. “Taryn asked that?”
Jack crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. On his side was the fact that she’d never been much of a liar and she couldn’t handle pressure. He would give her two maybe three minutes before she cracked. Because if there was something going on, he wanted to know what.
“You won’t like it,” she said, staring at her desk. Her long, slim fingers twisted together.
“I’ll deal. Now tell me, what’s going on?”
She pressed her lips together and swallowed, then stared up at him. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes were huge.
Jack felt the first slice of fear. It was bad, he thought suddenly. Real bad. Was she sick? Did she have cancer?
Okay, he told himself. He had resources. He would find her the best doctors in the country. Or in the world. They could fly anywhere. Switzerland. India. It didn’t matter. He would make sure she got better.
“My mother was right. I’m in love with you.”
The words were so unexpected, he didn’t understand their meaning at first. Relief came first. Larissa wasn’t sick. That was something. She would be fine.
“What did you say?”
The words burst out of him in a roar. She jumped a little, but didn’t take them back.
“It’s not my fault,” she began. “Look at yourself, Jack. Is it any wonder it happened? I’m amazed I held on as long as I did. You’re pretty irresistible.”
“Lots of women resist. You should have tried harder.” In love with him? He swore. If Kenny had been pissed before, he was going to blow a gasket now. In love with him? Why did that have to happen? Why couldn’t she think of him as a brother?
“...getting over you. It’s the only solution.”
He shook his head as he tuned back in to what she was saying. “You want to get over being in love with me?”
“Of course. It’s the only way things can work out between us. Don’t take this wrong, but as a boyfriend, you’re a disaster.”
He told himself not to take offense at her words. His ability to be a good boyfriend wasn’t the issue on the table.
“You have a plan?” he asked cautiously.
“I did. I was going to sleep with you. I figured that would do it.”
Jack stared at her. “Excuse me?”
She actually smiled. “I wanted us to have sex.”
“Because it would be so awful that you wouldn’t be in love with me anymore?”
“No. I thought it would be pretty good. But if we were that close, I’d see your flaws more clearly and then I’d get over you.” Her smile was triumphant. “It’s a good plan.”
“What if I’m a god in bed?”
The smile widened. “Jack, I doubt you’re all that. Taryn says nice things, so I’m sure you’re fine. Don’t get defensive. It wasn’t about the sex, by the way. It was about being in a relationship.”
His head hurt. “So last night was on purpose?”
“Yes. I was trying to seduce you. It didn’t go well.”
It had gone just fine, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“Stop being in love with me,” he told her.
“I agree, but telling me that isn’t going to work.” She looked up, her expression hopeful. “Are you open to the sex thing at all?”
Jack thought longingly of life on a deserted tropical island. One with a couple of coconut trees he could use for food. Just him and the ocean. It would be a good life. Lonely, but he would survive.
“No,” he said firmly and opened the door to her office.
“Are you sure? Because we could do it right here.”
He slammed the door behind him and started walking.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“YOU HAVE TO fix this,” Jack said.
Taryn looked up from her computer. “No, I don’t. It’s your problem.”
Technically the problem was Larissa’s, he thought, but did that matter? He was stuck with the consequences.
“You created it,” she continued. “You and Larissa are enmeshed in some pseudomarriage, anyway. Neither of you is moving forward. The difference is, she had the sense to recognize it.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Taryn stood and walked out from behind her desk. She’d already kicked off whatever ridiculous shoes she’d worn into the office and was barefoot. She’d painted her toes purple. Who did that?
“Jack, you’re a good guy. A little too good. You don’t have a lot of annoying flaws. But you also don’t get involved.”
“Love is for suckers.”
“You don’t mean that.” She touched his chest. “Love is amazing.”
“I don’t want to hear about Angel.”
“Then I won’t say anything about him. My point is falling in love is part of the human condition. You’re trying to escape the inevitable and that’s not going well.”
“I don’t need to fall in love. I have all the connection I need.”
“No, you don’t. You have friends who love you, but that’s different. Don’t you want one special person who will always be there for you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I like being alone.”
She shook her head. “That would be more believable if you were alone. But you’re not. You have Larissa. She’s the buffer who stands between you and the world. You get to play at things and not be involved on any level where you might get hurt. While that works for you, it’s no longer working for her. She’s in love with you and while she’s in love with you, she can’t find a man interested in forever and fall for him.”
Nothing he wanted to hear. “So her mother was right.”
“So it seems. Now this problem is yours. You’re going to have to figure out a way to solve it.”
* * *
BEING IN LOVE with Jack was less fun than Larissa had hoped. For one thing, now that he knew about her feelings, she rarely saw him. His ducking into offices and turning around and going the other way when he spotted her in the hall would have been funny—except it hurt too much for her to laugh.
She missed him, missed hanging out with him, talking to him. They hadn’t had dinner together, although Percy had come over with takeout twice. Takeout she was sure Jack had paid for.
Even worse, Jack hadn’t been in for any of his massages, which meant he had to be in pain. If he stood still long enough to listen, she was willing to explain that whatever her personal feelings, her work as his masseuse was separate from that. He needed help with his body.
She sat in her tiny office and tried to figure out how things had fallen apart so quickly. While she wanted to blame her mother, the other woman had only been speaking the truth. She’d seen what no one else had seen.
Which was great information but didn’t solve the problem.
Taryn walked into her office. Her friend looked nervous and wary—two emotions Larissa didn’t associate with her.
“What?” Larissa demanded. “Is someone hurt?”
“No,” Taryn said slowly. “Look, don’t shoot the messenger, okay? I’m telling you but I had no part in it. If he’d asked, I would have told him it was a disastrous idea.”
Larissa blinked at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You will. Come on.”
Larissa followed her friend down the long hallway. They made a turn and ended up at the massage room. Larissa was about to ask what they were doing there, when she heard noises from inside. Noises that sounded suspiciously like music and conversation.
“Which of you is playing around in my personal space?” she asked as she opened the door. Because what she expected to find was Sam or Kenny doing something ridiculous. What she saw instead was Jack on her massage table while another woman worked on his shoulder.
The sharp pain of betrayal cut through to her heart. It wasn’t just that he’d gone to someone else, she thought frantically. It was that he’d violated what was theirs. He’d brought a stranger into a place that was supposed to be only for family.
The masseuse moved to cover Jack with the sheet. “Excuse me, we’re in the middle of a treatment. Could you please leave?”
Larissa didn’t recognize the woman. She must have come in from Sacramento. A long way to drive, she thought, still trying to process the ache filling her. Her whole body hurt and she had the strangest need to cry. Stupid tears, she told herself. Stupid man.
Larissa moved into the room. “You’re using the wrong music,” she said, her voice sounding like someone else was speaking. She wasn’t moving right, either. It was as if she were physically disconnected from her body.
“That’s Kenny’s mix. And the oil is wrong, too. Jack’s blend has anti-inflammatory properties.”
Jack sat up. “Larissa, I’m sorry.”
She couldn’t look at him. “I can’t believe you did this. You brought in someone else. How could you? If you didn’t want me to give you a massage, at least go to someone else. You’re in my room.” She shook her head. “How am I supposed to let this go? You violated my trust, Jack.”
He pulled the sheet across his body and stood. “Larissa, it wasn’t like that.”
She stared at the ground. “It was. You brought her here? How could you?”
Taryn stepped closer and put her hand on Larissa’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
The masseuse looked between them. “What’s going on here? Are you two married or something? I’m just here to do a job.”
“Yes, you were,” Taryn said soothingly. “Go ahead and get your things. When you’re ready, come by my office and I’ll have a check waiting.”
* * *
JACK HAD SEEN Larissa cry before, but always because of someone she’d met through their charity work. Either a transplant was delayed or didn’t take or a desperate family couldn’t find someone to take care of their other children who would be staying back at home.
Those tears he could handle. Most of the problems were solved by him writing a check. When there wasn’t an organ for transplant, he made phone calls or did a PSA. When he got visible, people checked the box on their driver’s licenses. When he appeared on late-night TV to promote the cause, there was press. Whatever it took to stop her tears.
He’d never once been the cause. Now, watching her blue eyes fill and her struggling not to let him see, he felt lower than slime.
The masseuse he’d hired through an agency gathered her things and left. Taryn shot him a glance that promised they would be discussing this later, and then he was alone with Larissa.
She walked over to the docking station and pushed a couple of buttons. The music changed to a contemporary mix that he always found so relaxing. She took away the oil the other woman had been using and pulled out another bottle. Then she washed her hands and moved next to the table.
“Lie back down,” she said, her voice thick with tears.
“Larissa, no.”
She sniffed. “You’re in pain. You’re my friend and my responsibility. I’m the reason you called in someone else. Because of the sex thing.”
“I...” He honest to God didn’t know what to say. Yes, that was the reason, but it still wasn’t her fault. “I should have said something. I should have let you know that I was uncomfortable.” He looked at the table. “We don’t have to do this.”
“We do. It’s the only way to make things right between us.”
He nodded once and stretched out facedown. She rearranged the sheet so he was covered from the waist down, then opened the bottle of oil. The familiar scent drifted to him and he closed his eyes.
Nothing made sense. Not her declaration of love nor her attempts to seduce him. He didn’t want her to love him—that way lay disaster. Lovers were easy, but people he trusted, people he counted on, those were much harder to find.
She touched his back, lightly stroking at first, then reaching for the deeper muscles. His tension began to fade. She moved up toward his bad shoulder and began the familiar ritual of finding every inch of scar tissue and loosening it. She dug in deep, hurting him in the best way possible.
“I’m sorry,” he said again.
“Shh. Don’t talk.”
“I have to talk. I’m sorry I hurt you, Larissa. I’m sorry I didn’t come to you directly.”
“I know.”
“It’s just, you shouldn’t be in love with me. I’m not a good bet.”