by Jill Sanders
She smiled. “Thank you, I think.” She pulled the bread off the pan and set it gently down in the basket, then took her time cutting it into slices.
“There,” she said when she set it down in front of him. “It should be nice and cool by now.” She nodded for him to help himself.
He filled his plate, and she noticed that he’d only scooped a handful of nuts and fruit and no yogurt.
“You should have some Greek yogurt. The health benefits are amazing. Did you know, there’s almost half of the protein in one cup of Greek yogurt as there is in a chicken breast? With far less cholesterol and fat.”
She thought she heard him groan, but he scooped a spoonful of yogurt onto his plate.
“Mix it with the nuts and berries,” she suggested. “They make plain yogurt taste wonderful.” She piled a spoonful onto her own plate.
“Do you always tell people how to eat?” he asked before taking a bite of the bread. “My god.” He sighed and closed his eyes. She could tell he was enjoying the bread and smiled.
“I do when it’s obvious they have some health issues.” She took a bite of her own bread.
Rory stopped chewing and looked up at her. Their eyes met and she wondered if she’d crossed the line.
“How do you know I have health issues?” Rory asked, feeling his gut twist.
She was silent for a moment as she chewed her bite, then reached for her teacup. “I read your cards for you.” He rolled his eyes, and she smiled. “And, it’s obvious by the color of your skin. The dullness of your eyes.” She leaned forward and looked more closely into his eyes. “Did you know that a doctor— mind you a very good one like my nephew Rowan—could tell you have dietary deficiencies by the milky color in your eyes.”
He blinked. “The… what?”
She smiled. “Sure, for instance”—her eyes searched his—“you have these slight yellow patches.” She pointed with her spoon. “You have high cholesterol.”
He held in a gasp. His doctor had just informed him of that fact only days ago.
“You’re also color blind.” She nodded, her eyes narrowing. “And you have allergies.” She leaned back and continued to eat.
“You can tell all that from just looking in my eyes?” he asked, stunned. Everything she’d said was true, even if his allergies weren’t really acting up at the moment.
“Sure, you’d be surprised what else I can tell by the color of your skin or by reading your tarot.”
He paused, a bite of bread halfway to his mouth. “Tarot? As in, physic readings?”
She shrugged. “Amongst other things.” Her eyes were glued to her plate.
“You believe in all that?” he asked.
This time, her eyes moved slowly up to his. “Tell me everything I just said about you is wrong,” she said. “Then tell me the method I use is flawed.”
“You got me there,” he finally said, shrugging his shoulders. “Do you know, it took four blood tests, almost ten hours of waiting at my doctor’s office, and nearly six hundred dollars for a man who paid thousands for a fancy degree to tell me the same thing you did by just noticing the color of the whites of my eyes?”
She smiled, then laughed. “Sounds like you need a new doctor. My nephew can see you this week, if you want.”
He smiled. “I just might take you up on that.”
After finishing three helpings of the sweet bread and a small spoonful of yogurt with berries and nuts, he helped her clean up, once again, before they headed out to her store.
As he helped her on with her jacket, he leaned in and enjoyed the soft scent she wore. It was not only unique, but sexy as hell. The sky was full of gray clouds, threatening more rain and sleet, but her scent promised of sunny days and flower-covered fields.
As they stepped outside, he was a little surprised that she chose to walk the few blocks rather than drive.
“Do you always walk?” he asked, trying not to huff as he kept up with her.
“Sure, I only drive when I go out of town.” She glanced over at him. “Is it a problem?” Her pace slowed, and he felt totally out of shape.
He hit the gym four times a week, but he usually lifted weights and only jogged occasionally on the treadmill. It had been years since he’d taken a long walk, other than trying to catch a bus or a train.
“No.” He shook his head. “Just… what do you do when the weather turns?”
She smiled quickly. “I enjoy it. There, that’s my place.” She motioned in front of them.
He glanced down the street and took in the bright colors of her store. Serenity’s Attic sat over the bright building.
The building itself fit in with those around it. It wouldn’t stand out at all if it weren’t for the bright designs on the outside. But with the bright paintings of the moon, sun, and stars covering the outer walls, he knew instantly what kind of items would be inside. The front door was bright purple with stars painted all over the wood. Crisp white Christmas lights hung around every window and on the top of the building. In the windows, he could see more decorations.
He held one brightly painted glass door open for her and waited as she walked past him.
His imagination had been all wrong. What he’d walked into was nothing like he’d expected. Instead of a hippy shop selling hemp and bongs, he’d walked into a grocery store full of fresh vegetables, fruit, and jarred goods. Further back, he could see clothing of all types as well as rows of bottles and candles, and in the far back, incense and other items.
“So?” Crystal asked, standing patiently beside him. “What do you think?”
“It’s like an indoor farmer’s market,” he said. “They have those in my neighborhood every Saturday and Sunday.”
She smiled. “Everything is locally grown or raised.” She nodded to three large refrigerators along the front wall. “Fresh goat, cow, and yak milk—”
“Yak milk?” he interrupted.
“Sure, it’s high in—”
He held up his hand, stopping her. “I’ll take your word on it.” He shook his head.
“We also sell farm-raised meat, but don’t store any of it. The farmers deliver it directly to the customers’ doors.” She moved around the store and he followed her. “All the canned goods, fresh vegetables, and fruit are locally grown. I even have some of my canned jellies.” She nodded to the row of Serenity’s Jams.
“You make jelly?” he asked, picking up a jar and turning it around.
“Sure, it’s my grandmother’s recipe.” She touched his arm and he followed her throughout the store, pointing out special items along each row.
As they went, he learned that she also made her own soaps, shampoos, essential oils, and candles.
“Well, I think we’ve wasted enough time. Our room should be ready.” She motioned towards the back.
“Our room?” he asked.
“Sure, you did say you wanted a massage,” she said smoothly.
“Yes.” He waited, wanting to ask if he’d heard correctly. He followed her beyond the high countertop and a black-haired woman who sat behind a cash register. When they walked by, the young woman waved at them.
“You’re all clear back there for the next two spots,” the girl said.
“Thanks, Olivia,” Crystal said.
He followed her into a standard massage room. The white table sat in the middle of a room painted a soft cream. The lights were low and several candles were burning already. Crystal walked over and flipped on a small radio. Soft music filled the room.
“I assume you know the drill?” She handed him a large white towel as he nodded in agreement. “Enjoy.” She walked out of the room without another word.
He’d had plenty of massages over the years. Hell, since his insurance paid for them, he tried to get one every other month.
So, he disrobed and positioned himself face down and tried to relax. When a slight knock sounded, he told the therapist to enter without glancing up.
He waited and finally, soft hands started working on the sor
e muscles in his shoulders. Just as he started to relax, he took in a deep breath and smelled Crystal’s soft sexy scent.
His entire body tensed. “Crystal?” he said, looking up. Suddenly the large white towel covering his backside felt entirely too small. He was thankful he was still on his stomach and, at this point, if she asked him to, he’d refuse to roll over.
She smiled and tilted her head. “Relax,” she said softly. “You’re undoing everything I’ve worked on.”
Chapter 4
Crystal felt Rory tense. Every muscle in his body tightened, gloriously so.
Her hands moved over those magnificent shoulders of his again, this time, feeling every muscle tense under her touch.
“I didn’t… You didn’t… tell me it was you,” he finally said.
“Does it matter?” she asked, pushing him lightly back down onto the table.
“Yes,” he growled out, trying to sit up again. “I… I’ve never had a massage from someone I know before.”
She chuckled at that. “So, you’d rather a complete stranger do this?”
“No, yes.” He shook his head. “You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t. Since I’m certified and own this establishment, and since we’ll be working with each other for the next week, I thought it best that I assess how damaged you are.”
He tensed again. “How damaged?”
She sighed and used her elbow to gently force him back onto the table.
“Jesus,” he growled.
“Stay still,” she said in a sweet voice. “Let’s talk about something else.” This line of conversation was quickly making the man’s muscles bulge out of his skin. “Tell me why you started your own financial security firm.”
He was silent for a while as she moved her thumbs and fingers over each muscle again.
When he started talking, she felt him relax into her hands. When her hands moved to his lower back, he tensed for a split second.
She kept him talking while she ran through the upgraded massage package. He hesitated at first when she suggested he roll over, but after a moment of silence, he did so. His front was as impressive as his back. She could tell that he worked out, but as with most men, he tended to focus on muscle building rather than cardio and agility.
“You could benefit from yoga,” she said as she finished up. “Most men focus only on building muscles, not that women complain.” She smiled and tried not to hum with appreciation at the muscles that jumped under her fingertips. “Yoga helps to relieve stress.”
He grunted and she quickly changed the subject.
She added a few extra minutes to his massage in order to ensure she’d undone the tension she’d caused. And she was too busy appreciating his body to notice the clock had passed the hour mark.
“All done. How do you feel?” she asked, washing the oil from her hands.
“Incredible.” He sighed. “Ready for a nap.” He chuckled.
“You’re welcome to rinse off.” She nodded to the small shower. “Once you’re done, my office is just down the hall.” She tossed a towel into the dirty bin.
“Crystal.” He stopped her from walking out. “Thanks.” He gave her a smile that would have knocked her socks off, if she’d been wearing any. There were dimples on his cheeks that matched the one in his chin. She was a sucker for dimples. And for men who had deep brown bedroom eyes. Not to mention the killer body and brains to go with the whole package.
She smiled and nodded. “Anytime.”
When she shut the door behind her, she leaned against the solid wood and closed her eyes. Her heart was racing and her body felt geared up for sex.
The man was pure sex. Every spot on him was built for a woman’s pleasure. She’d tried, really, she had, to keep the massage professional. But wow. The man could fill out a towel.
She sat in her office, trying to get her body back under control. When her normal breathing exercises wouldn’t work, she tried meditation. That didn’t work either, so she started pacing the floor. She thought about cold showers and running through the snow, but hell, even thinking about gross things didn’t detour her libido.
When Rory finally walked in, she tried to focus on the task at hand, but in reality, all she wanted to do was jump his bones.
“So,” he said moving behind her desk and looking over her shoulder. “Is this the machine that was shot?”
She glanced at her new computer. “No.” She shook her head and then motioned across the room. “That’s it.”
“My god.” He whistled. “You’re lucky that wasn’t you.” He moved over and picked up the very expensive paperweight that used to be her top-of-the-line computer system.
“My insurance paid to have it replaced, but I still haven’t had time to install all the programs on the new machine.” She focused her eyes on her screen.
“What software did you use?” he asked, taking the old machine with him and sitting across from her.
She rattled off the software name and he cringed.
“What?” she asked.
He shook his head. “It’s not a very secure program.”
“Well, that doesn’t matter now.” She felt tension growing and knew he didn’t deserve her attitude. But her sexual tension had been building for months now. She needed a release, but hadn’t found anyone… hadn’t wanted anyone for a while. Not until he’d walked in her door.
“No, I suppose not.” He frowned. “Do you have a screwdriver?” He was fiddling with the piece of junk that had sat on the table across from her desk for the past few months as a constant reminder of everything she could have lost that night.
“Sure.” She pulled out a small set she had in her office for emergencies.
He chuckled and shook his head. “I suppose this will have to work.” He held up the small screwdriver.
“What’s wrong with it?” she asked.
“It’s pink.” He set her old computer on her desk.
“The color of an item doesn’t mean it doesn’t work just as well.” She placed her hands on her hips.
He glanced up. “No, I suppose not. But usually these kits for women are made of cheaper metals.” He started to unscrew the busted case. “Which means the tips of the tools grow dull a lot quicker than others.” He worked for a few minutes. “See, it’s already getting dull.”
She moved closer and looked. Sure enough, the edge of her screwdriver was already twisted and disfigured.
“When buying tools, go for the expensive kind. I can show you a good brand, if you have a hardware store in town.”
“We do, they suggested—”
His chuckle stopped her. “Course they did. You probably paid double what they’re worth and look, it didn’t even last through taking a simple computer apart.”
Once again, her hands were on her hips. Her entire body felt tense as she tried to calm herself down.
“It’s one of the first rules I teach people in financial minimizing,” he finished.
“Financial…”
“Minimizing.” He nodded, not looking up as he worked on taking the busted machine apart. “Do you know that most households waste around two hundred dollars every month?” He set the black plastic back of her old machine on the desk and got to work on the guts of the thing. “Most businesses have double that.”
“Waste?” She leaned in closer so she could watch what he was doing.
“Sure, high electric bills, late fees for accounts, financial fees, bills for services they weren’t aware of or don’t need anymore.”
“I switched to LED lights,” she said, then realized how stupid she sounded.
He stopped working and looked up at her. “Smart.” He smiled. “Saves the environment and money.” He went back to work. “But, I’d wager there’s more you can save each month.”
“Where?” she asked, even more curious now.
“Like I said, late fees, dues.” He shrugged. “If it’s there, I’ll find it.”
“How do you know all this?�
�� She motioned to the computer.
“Seriously?” He smiled. “I’m a guy who was around when computers became a household item.” He bent back over the computer. “I used to take these things apart just to see how they worked. If your hard drive is untouched… I could get all your data off from it.”
“Really?” She moved closer. “How?”
For the next few minutes, he went on about taking her hard dive and connecting it into another computer. She watched his hands move and wondered how such big hands could fit into tiny places and work with small objects without snapping them in half.
“You’re in luck,” he said, holding a small silver box. His smile was contagious.
“That’s… it?” she asked.
“Yup.” He glanced around. “I don’t suppose you have a computer store in town?”
She thought about it. “The hardware store might have what you’re looking for.”
“I doubt it, but I’m willing to look.” He started to get up.
“Now?” She glanced around. “Don’t you want…”
“If Ben is right, everything I’ll need is on this.” He waved towards the box.
“We can walk over to Adler’s.” She got up and grabbed her coat from the rack. He was there, behind her, helping her on with her jacket. It had been years since someone had done that for her. The last man who’d helped her like that had been Johnathan.
When they stepped outside, he asked, “Do you always walk everywhere?”
“Yes, normally, except when the weather gets too bad or I have a lot of supplies to cart back and forth.” She shrugged. “Besides, walking everyday keeps me in shape.”
He glanced down at her shoes and frowned. They were small slipper-like shoes, not what he’d expect someone to wear in the rain or snow. “What about those? Don’t you have a pair of boots?”
“Shoes bind your feet, which causes everything from headaches to stomach problems.” She started walking along the sidewalk. It was raining more now, but they’d grabbed umbrellas from her office and were staying dry. “I have boots, but only wear them when it snows. What could you use at the hardware store to get my information…”