"That's probably an apt description of this place," Reagan said with a small laugh. If Jaime had grown up in a small town, then Point Pleasant would probably be the right kind of place for her. Maybe. If she could stomach it, she would last. Reagan slid another book back onto the shelf and turned toward Jaime again, intrigued now that she knew Jaime was a masseuse.
"Massage therapy," Reagan repeated. "And you make house calls? I've been looking for someone who would come to my place, rather than making me drive to the spa. It's one of those things where after a massage I just want to nap or take a bath, and I hate having to get dressed and drive home." She arched a brow. "Do you have a card?"