Too Close to Touch by Georgia Beers Page B

and tell me you were coming.”
    She held Jori at arm’s length and looked her over. “God, you look fantastic.”
    Jori had always been long, lean, and artistically in fashion. How
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    GEORGIA BEERS
    they had ended up friends when they were such polar opposites was beyond Mick. The only thing she could chalk it up to was their shared sexual preference. They hadn’t really become close until their junior year in high school. Mick had been sure of her lesbianism and Jori reasonably sure about hers, and Kylie had been Þ ghting hers as hard as she could. The three of them had bonded, Mick and Jori more so as Kylie periodically went off to try dating a boy until she Þ gured things out for herself.
    Now, here they stood, close to forty and comfortable in their skins.
    Jori’s straight, brown hair was shoulder-length, severe bangs cut across her forehead. Quirky, black-rimmed glasses perched on her slim nose.
    She was thin and leggy, wearing a stylishly casual black dress and chunky black shoes. Not quite right for the weather or a cookout, but just perfect for Jori Mitchell.
    “Come on,” Mick said, picking up her stuff. “I was about to head in.”
    Mick entered the house through the front door, rather than the garage. She wanted to greet Caroline O’Brien Þ rst and knew the chances of Þ nding her in the kitchen were pretty damn good. Sure enough, through the screen of women milling around the room, she could see Caroline at the sink, rinsing the dirty hands of a small girl she held in front of her, a dish towel thrown over her shoulder. Mick snuck up behind her and nuzzled her neck.
    “Hi there, Mrs. Gorgeous.”
    Caroline jumped, then laughed. She put the little girl down and wiped her hands with the towel before patting her playfully on her behind and directing, “Mommy’s in the back yard with Papa. Go get her.” She turned to Mick, plainly delighted. “Hello, Michelle. It’s nice to see you, honey.”
    Mick set the beer down and held up the ß owers. “For you.”
    “Oh, you don’t have to bring me ß owers so often.” Caroline gathered her into a hug. “You have other things to spend your money on.”
    Mick ignored the all-too-familiar chastisement and nudged the twelve-pack with a toe. “I want this in the basement. It’s for Mr.
    O’Brien, not the entire picnic.” The American-made version of Irish beer was Matt O’Brien’s favorite, but she knew he rarely bought it for himself.
    “You are too good to us,” Caroline said, then noticed the second
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    TOO CLOSE TO TOUCH
    Þ gure standing in the doorway. Her eyes opened wide with recognition.
    “Jorianna!”
    Looking over her shoulder as she was enveloped in a warm hug, Jori sneered at Mick’s smug expression. “Okay. Two of you can get away with calling me that. But that’s all.”
    “What brings you to town?” Caroline asked.
    “A college friend of mine got married in Toronto yesterday.”
    “Yesterday?” Caroline sounded surprised.
    “I know. Seriously. Who gets married over a holiday weekend?
    Anyway, I Þ gured I was so close, I might as well drive the two hours and hang here for a while. Get some work done, maybe.”
    “You still have that lovely little place in the city?”
    “My studio? Yup.”
    Mick snorted. What Jori referred to as a “studio” was actually a high-end loft apartment in the posh East Avenue area of downtown Rochester. In addition to a dark room and ample space for Jori to set up a photo shoot if she so desired, the loft boasted a one-bedroom apartment nearly as large as the O’Briens’ entire house. She also had an apartment in New York City, where she spent the majority of her time.
    Jori shot Mick a look. “I thought I’d stay around for a few weeks.
    And then I looked at the calendar and realized it was the weekend of your annual barbecue and thought I’d take a chance.”
    “Well, I’m so glad you did.” Caroline patted her arm in a motherly fashion. “Kylie will be thrilled