by Dani Wade
His expression was the most serious she’d seen on him since his return, except for the stoic one she’d glimpsed as he’d made his way across the dining room floor that first night. She’d seen similar expressions on many patients—that determination to ignore the stares, ignore the pain and force yourself to move regardless of your body’s protests.
As they came to the end of his session, she bent and twisted his legs, pulling them into positions that would ease the tension, improve his range of motion and hopefully lessen his pain. Time and again she forced her gaze away from glistening muscles and sexy hollows. Not to mention the scars that had her heart cramping in sympathy.
But he’d worked hard today and there was a much better way to help him recover than a simple muscle stimulation session, even though she knew she shouldn’t touch him any more than necessary. But it would help. By morning, Luke would appreciate anything that would make it easier for him to get out of bed.
At least, that’s the excuse she gave herself.
* * *
“Come on,” Avery said, urging Luke to his feet after helping him stretch. He’d always had a love/hate relationship with stretching. He’d rather be running or pumping weights, but one of his former trainers had convinced him how good it was for his body. After that, he’d been able to relax into it.
But somehow stretching with Avery was different. It should feel good, did feel good, but not in the way he’d experienced before. Male hands, male strength—his other physical therapist had a no-nonsense touch that did the job at hand and nothing else.
Avery’s hands during their sessions gave him a sense of comfort, as if he could feel her desire for him to heal within each touch. Even through the pain he caught a hint of awareness beneath his skin, an itch for more. And always, that low-level hum distracted him.
“Reward time,” she said.
Too bad that couldn’t mean what his body hoped it did. Nope. It would be the usual post-therapy ritual that included heat and some electrical muscle stimulation to reduce pain and atrophy. Sad when getting shocked was the highlight of his visit.
He assured his disappointed body that this was a good thing. After all, he had rules of his own. Namely, he was not staying in Black Hills—which meant no entanglements. No relationships. His body would simply have to mourn the loss of more intimate contact.
Her rules challenged and intrigued him. Professionalism was very important to her, especially when dealing with a lot of people who had watched her grow up. Still, he longed to break through her professional facade. One, because she needed some fun more than any person he’d met in forever. Someone to push her buttons, force her to loosen up.
Two, he needed a distraction from the first true attraction he’d felt in a long time. Especially since it was toward a woman he would not be able to get away from in the coming months. But they could be friends, right? Just friends.
“So how come I never saw you when I came home?” He chuckled. “It’s almost like you were avoiding me.”
He almost bumped into her backside as she halted. The odd look she threw over her shoulder smothered his teasing. Had she really—?
“Why would you avoid me?” he asked.
“Do you want your reward?” she countered in a cool tone.
“Um, yeah.”
“Then don’t ask irrelevant questions.”
She just might have found the key to making him fall in line. But that didn’t stop him from being curious. He’d bet his racing car that she had avoided him…and didn’t want him to know it.
As she walked away, she said, “I guarantee you won’t want to miss this.”
Just like that, his mouth watered, hunger rising out of nowhere to overwhelm him. It was totally out of character for him, this physical need to be close to someone. If it had been anyone else, he’d have let the hunger lead him, but he couldn’t. Not with Avery. Indulging in something physical with her wouldn’t be fair, knowing he would never make his home here.
But now curiosity had joined the mix of anticipation and arousal, so he leaned a little heavier on his cane to gain speed. What could be better than the usual after-workout routine? At least it eased the soreness long enough for him to get home. By tomorrow morning, he’d be stiff again. Even the massive whirlpool tub Aiden had installed in his suite didn’t help for long. His body resisted what he wanted.
He’d been told he pushed too hard before, but each moment without definitive recovery ramped up a panic inside. Getting back on the track was a need that called to him day and night. He couldn’t rest for the jitters beneath his skin.
An itch to escape.
It only subsided when he was with Avery. With her, he felt a constant, low-level hum that drew his gaze, his attention—hell, his body—in her direction. An illusion that, if he could just get close enough, all the fears and doubts and nerves would stop. Dangerous territory. Which gave him one more reason to keep his hands to himself.
When Avery opened the door to one of the smaller rooms around the perimeter and Luke glimpsed a thickly padded massage table, he wanted to groan. Have mercy. Now he had an itch for something completely different.
“Take off your shoes. I just want to work some of the tension out of your legs and back,” she said.
He wanted to joke, to throw something stupid out there to break the tension building under his skin. But nothing came to him. “Is massage an extra perk?” he tried, his voice sounding strained.
A slight choke had him glancing at her with a tight grin, but she’d turned away.
“Um, no,” she finally said, though her voice was muffled. It took him a minute to realize she was off balance, uncertain. Did she not normally do this?
That settled him down, and he was able to tease her again. “So am I simply special?”
Her obvious embarrassment was so cute he wanted to kiss it away. Her flushed cheeks and shaky hands made him warm, awoke a need to hug her and share a grin. Not the reaction he was used to, but definitely safer. Shucking his shoes and socks, Luke approached the table with a breathless anticipation that was exponentially higher than the situation warranted.
To his surprise, she launched a comeback. “It’s not actually on the fee schedule, but I do need to put my massage therapy license to use now and then.”
With those words, every muscle in his body went taut. For someone who already had mobility issues, it was not the best state of affairs. But how could he relax knowing Avery had even more skills in her arsenal that could slay him in an instant? He lay facedown as best he could and breathed through the pain of getting his legs prone. That took his mind off the ache forming in his groin pretty quick.
“Moving a little more slowly would make changing positions easier,” Avery chided.
“Can’t hide anything from you, huh?”
Her voiced softened as she drew closer. “Oh, I’m a bit more observant than most.”
What did she see in him? He was used to projecting the fun-loving, hard-playing athletic image. This wasn’t his finest hour. Could she spot the desperation, the bone-deep need to get back behind the wheel? The fear that lingered beneath his determination? His thoughts opened up a dark cave he’d rather not explore.
The sound of a cabinet door broke the silence, then familiar heat blanketed his upper back in a thick weight. His whole body automatically melted into the cloth-covered table beneath him. Then Avery’s hands found the small of his back and thinking ceased—he could only feel.
Definitely not like a dude. He’d never before had a therapeutic massage where he had to bite his lip to keep from begging his masseuse for more. Hell, her technique was flawless. Now his body wanted to take this far away from the office to a much more private setting.
Yep, he was in a heap of trouble here.
Those slender fingers traced and kneaded every inch of
every muscle on his legs and lower back. Every one except the one he wanted her to touch with an ache that was inherently male. Trapped beneath him, that essential part of his body throbbed in an attempt to gain attention. Luke was grateful for the safeguard, even while he reveled in the return of his body’s most basic demands. So much better than his struggle with fear and loathing.
He’d enjoyed a steady stream of sexual encounters until the accident. But why did this feel like the perfect unique blend of innocence and sensuality to spur his body into hyperdrive?
Oh, yeah, she was definitely trying to torture him.
Her fingers traced over muscles, hills, and into valleys. Smoothing out the tension, working out the knots, drawing out the moans. This girl had some hidden talents.
“You have magic fingers,” he moaned.
She dug particularly deep into his thigh.
“Ouch, woman.”
“Behave.” The prim schoolteacher voice was back. Not the direction he was looking for.
“It was a compliment. I swear.”
He lifted a little to glance over his shoulder, only to find her cheeks flushed, eyes a little heavy-lidded. But all of it disappeared when her gaze met his. Then one brow lifted and her lips pressed together.
Even as he settled back in place, the image of that aroused look on her refined features wouldn’t disappear from his mind. That expression like she’d enjoyed touching him as much as he’d enjoyed being touched. It was a temptation he didn’t need. Then the slide of her hands transformed from a baker kneading dough to the skilled glide of a woman savoring the skin beneath her fingers.
The very air around him grew heavy. His breath sped up to match his heartbeat. Could this torture continue forever? But certain parts of him demanded it end quickly, in a very satisfying way. Time to change the tempo.
“You never did say why I haven’t seen you around…”
He left the sentence hanging, hoping to introduce some sane conversation before he went out of his ever-lovin’ mind. She paused midstroke, his thigh muscle twitching before she continued again.
“I didn’t really socialize much until my mother died,” she said, her voice low. “There wasn’t really time—or rather, when there was, I was too exhausted to care. I stuck close to home mostly. And establishing a practice takes a lot of work, even with the ready-made clientele here.”
Which was no doubt true, even if he still sensed a cover-up. His heartbeat slowed as he focused on her. “I’m sure she was very grateful for all you did for her.”
“I know she was. She told me every day.”
Luke thought of his own mother, Lily, who had been comatose since a stroke. She’d already sustained injuries from a car accident that had left her unable to walk. There’d been more than once that Luke had wished his mother could tell them something, anything to let them know she was okay—even if it was goodbye. But she couldn’t.
“You’re lucky,” he mumbled, then realized how callous that might sound and glanced over his shoulder.
Avery met his look, understanding in her gentle eyes. “I know.”
She pressed her palms flat against his skin, sending that tingle through him once more. A confusing mix of arousal and comfort.
Some people didn’t know, could never understand what it was like to lose a parent…but not really lose them. To wish so badly that you could speak to them, but realize it would never happen again. But Avery understood. Her observant ways had probably told her far more about the situation than anyone else knew.
Then she threw him into the fire. “What about you? Did you ever think you’d be moving back here, even for a temporary hiatus?”
Luke was glad his face didn’t show. Being home was still a touchy subject for him—more than he wanted anyone to know. “Nope.”
“But it’s better now, right?”
His body stilled even more. “How did you know?”
“Everyone knows James Blackstone was a difficult man—”
“Try demon…”
“—but the way he treated you boys was unconscionable.”
He shouldn’t ask. He really shouldn’t. “How did you know?”
“Just from the sheer amount of time I spent watching those around me. It’s amazing what people will say in front of you when they don’t realize you’re there.”
Ouch. Despite the magic of her fingers, Luke rolled to his side. “Did we really do that to you, Avery? Ignore you? Make you feel invisible?”
“Luke, y’all weren’t the only ones. I was shy, and worked very hard to fade into the woodwork. Do it often enough, and people expect it.”
He remembered seeing her walk across the country club dining room and realized just how far she’d come. That walk was probably as hard for her as his own had been. “How did you become so smart?”
“Smart? No. Just…practical.”
“Practical, huh? Doesn’t that ever get boring?”
This conversation was way deeper than he’d planned.
She shook her head, a slight smile tilting the corners of her pink bow lips. “No,” she said. “There isn’t time to be bored.”
He wanted to ask if she felt the same way in the dark of night, when she was home alone with no one to laugh and cuddle with, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.
The deep stuff wasn’t what he was here for.
“Let’s get you set up for your next appointment,” she said as she moved away from the table.
The fun was over.
Flipping over on the narrow table proved harder than he thought, but at least he had the coward’s comfort of knowing Avery faced away from him. Easier was getting himself upright with his legs hanging off the table. Boy, her magic hands had turned his muscles to jelly.
When Avery turned back, she was studying his chart. He could have called her on avoiding him, but he let it go. For now.
She was back to being all business. “Let’s shoot for three days a week.”
“Sure.” Not like he had much else going on. “However often it takes.”
“That means we will see each other on Friday. Monday, Wednesday, Friday good for you?”
He nodded. Deep in his brain, he searched for a way to instigate himself into other parts of her life. She might have forgotten about him helping her have fun, but he hadn’t. “We could see each other before then. You know, for dinner?”
“Are we back to that again?” she asked, her face completely blanking for a moment.
“Mary makes a mean prime rib up at Blackstone Manor. Why don’t you join me? I could even ask her to make her famous chocolate chip cookies.”
Avery frowned, shifting the chart in her hands. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” Luke had a pretty decent puppy-dog look when he tried.
“It’s just, um…”
Yep, the look was working.
She swallowed. “With me being, you know, your physical therapist, maybe socializing isn’t such a good idea.”
“Why not? Because you said everything outside of the office was fair game.”
Her face flushed and he knew he’d gotten her. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
His male instincts urged him to stalk closer, crowd her in and make her admit she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. Instead he forced himself to remain still, using words to reel her in. “Come on. You want an adventure. I want to help you find one. Let’s talk about it over dinner.”
“Well…” Her flush deepened, but she also straightened her shoulders. “I guess I could do dinner one night.”
Was that a slight squeak he heard in her voice? “Good. I know Christina has been dying to see you, too.”
A little of the starch drained from her posture. “Oh, um, yes. That sounds n
ice.”
Obviously she hadn’t been to a dinner with all of them home. Nice wasn’t the word he’d use. Chaotic, maybe. Just what she needed.
“It will be interesting, to say the least.” Not like the gloom and doom his grandfather had presided over. James Blackstone had demanded the appearance of a family dinner, but they had been mostly silent events with none of the laughing, joking and talking Luke associated with that idea. Especially not since his mother’s car accident.
As he came to his feet, the quizzical little smile Avery gave distracted him. He saw nothing else. Not taupe walls, nor yellow scrubs. Just pale blue eyes and bow-shaped lips moving closer as she stepped forward.
Before he could reach for his cane, his legs gave him the old heave-ho and collapsed. Avery had moved close, too close to miss out on his game of Timber. Down they both went.
He tried to twist, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. They hit the floor hard. Or rather, Avery did. Luke’s arms worked better than his legs, catching him before he landed on her. Oh, that elbow was gonna bruise. Of course, the rest of his body couldn’t help but tangle all up in hers.
They came to rest hip to hip, stomach to stomach, and all of Luke’s pent-up need was blatantly evident. Once more, the first thing that popped into his head came out of his mouth, even though he knew he’d pay for it later.
“Sweetheart, you’re the softest landing place I’ve had in a while.” The scary part—it was true.
FOUR
For once, Luke was able to walk into breakfast at Blackstone Manor like a normal person, albeit relying on his cane, instead of a hunched-over hobbit moaning in pain. He tossed Christina a grin as he approached the breakfast dishes on the mahogany sideboard.
Though she seemed a little pale and not her usual serene self this morning, she returned his smile. “Someone’s looking much better than the last time I saw him,” she teased.
Since neither of his brothers were there to rag him, Luke spoke freely. “I swear that woman has magic in her fingers.”