Until We Touch (Fool's Gold #15)

Okay, now he was lost. “Who is Kit?”


“Kit Kittredge. She’s one of the American Girl dolls. I showed you them before.”

“Was I paying attention?”

“Probably not.” Some of the sadness left her eyes. “You never were into dolls.”

He winked. “Not unless they were anatomically correct. What other causes should I prepare for?”

“There’s going to be a chiweenie rescue.”

“A what?”

“Chiweenies. They’re a Chihuahua-dachshund mix.”

“Someone has a sense of humor,” he murmured. “And this is my problem how?”

“A breeder is being investigated. There’s concern it’s not a good situation. That she has more of a puppy mill than a healthy program.”

Jack could figure out the rest of it pretty easily. If it was a puppy mill or a hoarding situation, then there would be an intervention and Larissa would get involved. Which meant somehow he would end up involved, as well.

“Don’t bring any to my house,” he told her, but without a lot of energy. Telling her no didn’t help and for the most part, he didn’t really mind whatever she dragged into his life. It always made for interesting conversation.

“I don’t always get you involved,” she protested.

“What about the butterflies?”

She wiggled in her seat. “That was a special situation.”

Yeah. One that required him to not make noise or turn on lights for several days. Of course, butterflies in a cage had been a lot easier to take than the fighting dogs that wouldn’t let him in his own house.

“You’re never boring,” he told her. “I’ll give you that.”

Later, when they were done eating and he’d helped her clean up, he gave her a brief hug goodbye and left. Once on the sidewalk, he breathed in the cool night air and started back for his place.

Yup, he had it all, he told himself. His Score coworkers were his family, Larissa was his best friend and, when he got the itch, there were plenty of women to be had. Best of all, he could go back to his quiet, empty house whenever he wanted. He was a blessed man. Most days it was very good to be Jack McGarry.

CHAPTER THREE

SCORE STAFF MEETINGS were generally short and to the point. Because of that, no one tried to get out of them. Larissa sat at one end of the big conference table and took notes on the items that affected her or Jack. She also had a short presentation prepared for when Kenny called on her.

The areas of expertise were delineated by ability. Jack and Kenny brought in new clients, Sam took care of the money and Taryn handled the existing clients, while keeping her “boys” in line.

The day-to-day management was mostly shared between Sam and Taryn, but Kenny had an active role in most of the hiring and he ran the staff meetings.

Larissa listened to him now and idly wondered how many people would be surprised to know the former receiver had a degree in English. A degree he’d earned the hard way—by going to class and writing papers. As a star football player, there had been easier options for him, but he hadn’t taken them. He’d earned his B+ average by studying and doing well on his tests. Kenny joked that his first year of college, his teammates had been forever stealing whatever he’d been reading on the bus or plane, convinced there had to be secret  p**n  hidden in the pages of his book. They couldn’t understand that a guy who could play like Kenny might also like to read.

Taryn shifted in her seat. Larissa smiled, thinking how her boss sort of reminded her of Dyna. Sure the coloring was different, but they were both beautiful females, confident of their place in the world. Dyna had adapted well to the small apartment and had spent the past two nights sleeping on the bed. Progress, Larissa thought happily. This morning Dyna had awakened her with happy purrs and snuggles.

Like the cat, Taryn had mellowed when she’d found security in her personal life, i.e., when she’d fallen in love with Angel. The sharp edges that kept the world at bay had softened a little. Larissa supposed it wasn’t a surprise. Everyone was different when he or she fell in love. Or so she’d observed. It wasn’t as if she’d ever felt the emotion herself.

Someday, she promised herself wistfully. If she was lucky.

“Larissa’s going to report on the golf tournament,” Kenny said.

She drew herself back to the meeting and glanced at her notes. “The charity event is a fund-raiser. Raoul Moreno’s foundation runs it and you three are on the schedule to play.” She went through a few more details.

“Think what we could have done with the Stallions if we’d had Moreno,” Sam mused.