by C. C. Coburn
“No, thanks,” he said, and strode toward the house.
“Why not?” Carly followed him, and when he didn’t answer her, she reached out for his shoulder to turn him toward her. She realized her mistake immediately as he groaned with pain.
“I’m sorry!” she apologized, contrite that she’d done the one thing she shouldn’t have to someone with such an injury. “But maybe now you’ll agree that your problem won’t be fixed by painkillers.”
“I’ll go see the doc in the morning, see what he has to say.”
“In case you’ve forgotten,” she retorted, “you have that disciplinary hearing in the morning. You won’t perform too well if you’re in pain.”
He shrugged, and she wanted to slap him. “You make me so mad!” she said, losing her cool.
“Tough.” He turned back toward the house. Carly fumed that he wouldn’t let her help him. Was he afraid of repeating his reaction to her last night? Why was he so intent on avoiding her?
And why did she even care?
“You care because underneath his bluster, he’s a good man. A man who’s hurting physically and emotionally,” she muttered under her breath, trailing him to the house. Adam might not want to admit it, but he needed her. And not just to ease the pain in his back.
ADAM WENT STRAIGHT upstairs and hunted through the bathroom cabinet, looking for painkillers. All he came up with was an out-of-date bottle of antacid.
He cursed and tossed it in the trash.
“Looking for this?” he heard Carly say from behind him, and spun around.
Was there no place in this house that was safe from her?
She held up a bottle of ibuprofen. He reached for it, but she whisked it away. “You can have two, on condition that you let me massage you.”
“Have you always been such a nag?” he demanded.
“It’s called negotiation. It’s an effective parenting tool.”
“Except I’m not one of your kids,” he said. “Thank God.”
Carly ignored the dig. “You’re sure acting like one.” She tipped two pills into her hand. “Now open wide,” she said, unable to resist teasing him.
Adam set his mouth in a firm line. Then he pushed past her to get out of the bathroom.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
He pulled his keys from his jeans pocket. “To the supermarket. To buy a whole bottle of ibuprofen. All for me,” he snapped.
“And by the time you get there, I could have eased some of your pain with a massage. And these.” She held the caplets out again, tempting him.
Adam snatched them from her and put them in his mouth, nearly choking as he tried to swallow them without water.
“My, my, you are in a lot of pain,” she observed. “Come with me,” she said, crooking her little finger.
“No.” He stopped her at the door. He didn’t want to go back to the apartment. He couldn’t be alone with her. He needed to be where there was noise and the possibility of discovery if she got him in the same state as she had last night. With the chance that one of his nieces might burst in on him, he could keep himself in check.
He led the way to his room. “We’ll do it here,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows. “I hope you’re referring to the massage and not something else?”
“You wish,” he muttered.
Part of Carly did wish, but she clamped her mouth shut as she returned to the bathroom. After finding a bottle of baby oil, she went back to Adam’s room. He was still where she’d left him, standing stiffly by the bed, glaring at her.
“What’s the problem now?” she asked.
“You want me to lie on the bed?”
“That would help.”
He crossed his arms. “I don’t want to.”
Carly almost laughed until she remembered his embarrassment when she’d first massaged him.
“Since you’re probably still a bit tender from yesterday’s massage, I thought you might like an Indian head massage instead.”
“And how will that help my back?” he asked.
“I’m hoping it’ll relax you and diminish some of that tension you’re carrying around on those broad shoulders of yours.”
“Don’t make fun of me.”
She put the bottle of oil on the dressing table. “How am I making fun of you?”
“Talking about my broad shoulders as if there’s another meaning. A sarcastic one.”
Carly shook her head. “Trust me, there is no other meaning. You have broad shoulders.” Mighty nice broad shoulders, she thought to herself. Shoulders a girl wouldn’t mind leaning on. “If I’d referred to your dark eyes, would you have found something sinister in that, too?”
Adam shrugged the shoulders in question. “Guess not. So where do we do this, uh, Indian massage?”
Carly drew the tiny stool out from under the dressing table. “Right here,” she said, indicating he should sit down.
He did.
“You might want to take your shirt off. There’s some shoulder work involved in this and I’d hate to get oil on it,” she explained.
ADAM STOOD AND STARTED to unbutton his shirt facing away from Carly. Then something perverse in him made him turn around and finish unbuttoning it right in front of her perky little nose. So she liked his broad shoulders, did she? Then she could get a good look at them—and his chest.
Adam saw Carly swallow as he removed his shirt. Whether she liked it or not, the woman was responding to him. It gave him a much-needed sense of power—something he felt he had very little of when he was around her. The situation between them seemed unequal, with all the control on her side. Carly was so self-assured, nothing seemed to phase her—except when he challenged her and then he could see the fire in her eyes. He liked seeing that fire. But right now her eyes were focused on his chest as if she couldn’t drag them away.
He cleared his throat and smiled to himself when she blinked before regaining her composure.
“I believe you were going to massage my head…not my chest,” he said, teasing her, loving how flustered she got.
“I was… I am!” she said, and pressed him down onto the stool.
She was close enough that if he reached out his arms, he’d be able to clasp her butt and pull her down to straddle him.
Now Adam found himself swallowing. The thought of Carly’s legs wrapped around his waist, his big hands pulling her tight little butt against him, had him reacting in exactly the way he was trying to avoid.
Carly placed her hands on his forehead. He jolted at their unexpected warmth and then he was aware of her fingertips running back through his hair in strong strokes, all the way to the nape of his neck. She left them there and, using her thumbs, rotated them below each ear as her fingertips stroked his neck.
Adam closed his eyes and sighed, then instantly regretted giving Carly any hint of the pleasure her clever fingers were bringing him, of how much her touch affected him. She repeated the action and it was more than soothing, it was positively erotic.
If the door to his room had been closed, he would have drawn her onto his lap....
He wanted to open his eyes and look into hers, but was afraid of what he’d see there. Loathing—that he could react to her so easily? Fear—because she’d read his mind? Ridicule—that he was so quickly seduced by her touch?
No, never ridicule. Carly took her profession seriously. She’d never take advantage of a client. Never laugh at anyone’s reaction to her.
His fingers itched to clasp her hips, pull her close. He sighed again and cursed himself for being so vocal, but he couldn’t help it. What Carly was doing to him was the best thing he’d felt in a hell of a long time. Yes, the massage last night had been great, but a lot of it had been
downright painful. This, on the other hand, was so incredibly soothing, so unbelievably good, that it was almost better than sex—
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
Adam was torn from his erotic haze by Luke’s voice. He glanced up to find his brother lounging against the doorjamb, arms crossed.
To her credit, Carly didn’t miss a beat. She continued the soothing movements, shaping her hands to his head as she spoke to Luke.
“I have an appointment book downstairs on the living room table. If you’d like to fill in a time that’s convenient, I’d be happy to oblige.”
Adam could hear the smile in her voice. In fact, she seemed to be teasing Luke. Flirting with him. Adam didn’t like it.
“And where would we do it?” Luke asked, sounding downright suggestive to Adam. He was almost tempted to get off the stool and punch his brother’s lights out. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists and forced himself to keep his anger in check.
Luke started to advance into the room, but Carly held up her hand.
“For a massage to be effective, the client needs total quiet and no distractions. Would you close the door when you leave, Luke?”
Wow. That was telling him. Luke didn’t appreciate being told what to do, especially in his own house. But his brother saluted her, turned on his heel and left the room, shutting the bedroom door.
“I hope you don’t mind me shooing him away like that,” Carly said, her voice uncharacteristically uncertain. “But I want you to have the most beneficial treatment possible. You’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow.”
Adam wanted to take her in his arms and hug her tight for caring so much. The massage was exactly what he’d needed. At least while he was thinking of seducing Carly, he wasn’t worrying about the disciplinary hearing in the morning.
She stepped closer to him and increased the pressure of her fingers on the back of his head, causing his head to drop forward and rest against her midriff. She drove her fingers lower to his shoulders, kneading them, first in gentle strokes and then stronger. And just as it got almost unbearable, her hands would return to his head, soothing him, sending him into a deep sense of relaxation.
And then her hands touched his shoulders in a different movement and suddenly all the sadness and the shame he’d been holding inside over Rory began to surface. He gulped, shocked by his reaction, powerless to stop the feelings crashing in on him. Tears burned behind his eyes. Why now? Why after all these years?
And then a sob escaped his throat and, before he knew it, the tears he’d been holding back coursed down his cheeks.
With his forehead resting against Carly’s chest, Adam couldn’t stop the tears. Carly’s touch turned soothing again, stroking through his hair. But the change in her touch only made it worse. Mortified, he raised his hands to cover his face.
“Stop. Please, stop,” he begged, fighting tears, fighting the memories that kept surfacing, consuming him, threatening to drown him in all their vivid horror.
“It’s okay, Adam.” Carly’s voice was soft.
But in his present state of mind, her words sounded patronizing to his ears. It wasn’t okay. It would never be okay.
He sprang to his feet and caught her wrists. He read the shock in her eyes. God only knew what he must look like, a man of six-three with tears streaming down his face.
He lashed out at her verbally, trying to cover the embarrassment at his reaction to those long-ago memories. “Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again!” he said, and released her so suddenly she stumbled backward.
Then he grabbed his shirt, strode to the door, tore it open and left the room.
CARLY REGAINED HER FOOTING before she landed on Adam’s bed.
She hadn’t expected him to react so vehemently to her finding that trigger point. Usually a patient bawled for a bit, then admitted what had set him or her off. But not Adam. Adam was too proud, too shut down, to admit his pain.
She’d guessed she was getting close shortly before Luke interrupted. Adam had been so relaxed. When he’d sighed, she’d been pleased that he was so at ease.
And then she’d hit that trigger point and felt him tense, knew he was holding back. But she’d pressed on, hoping to help him find some release from the emotional pain. But he’d fought every one of those tears until he could fight them no longer.
Carly was sorry now that she’d pushed Adam so far. She’d embarrassed him. Their session shouldn’t have ended this way. She’d never had a client grip her wrists and tell her not to touch him again!
She should recommend another massage therapist, one with whom he’d feel more comfortable letting down his guard. Only problem was, she didn’t want to share Adam with anyone else, didn’t want someone else to help him unlock his secrets.
Carly sat on the stool, placed her elbows on the dressing table and clasped her hands beneath her chin as she gazed into the mirror. Had she inadvertently caused him to relive some emotional damage that would affect him negatively during the disciplinary hearing tomorrow? She hoped not!
Most importantly, she wondered, what could she do to make things right between them?
One thing was for sure; Adam would be steering clear of her for quite some time.
Carly opened one of the dresser drawers, found a pen and notepad and carefully composed a note to him.
She signed it C, folded the piece of paper and wrote his name on the outside. Then she propped it on Adam’s pillow and silently left the room.
“DAMNED INTERFERING woman!” Adam muttered as he strode downstairs, pulling his shirt on and doing up the buttons with unsteady fingers. Avoiding any of the family, he grabbed his coat, wrenched open the front door and headed to his vehicle. Moments later, he peeled out of the ranch, stopping at the crossroads that led to town.
Cursing himself for what he was about to do, he turned left onto the road, headed away from town. He needed to be on his own, to think. To plan. Because he’d never know any peace until he’d confronted the biggest fear of his life.
The reason he hated himself so much.
Chapter Seven
“You and my little brother making friends?”
Carly almost jumped out of her skin. She spun around as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Luke was leaning against the wall, assessing her.
She placed her hand over her heart. “Sheesh, Luke! You scared me half to death!”
He pushed away from the wall and came to stand in front of her. “I have a feeling you don’t scare too easily, but I’ll make my apologies, anyway.” He inclined his head toward the front door. “So what did you do to Adam to have him taking off like his butt was on fire?”
Carly had no intention of telling Luke something that was so deeply personal to Adam.
“Want to try an Indian head massage for yourself?” she said. “Then maybe you’ll find out.”
He cocked his head to one side. “Hmm, I don’t think that was the cause. Anyway, I came looking for you to thank you for helping Megan.” He thrust his hand through his short hair. “I didn’t realize that pregnancy could be so hard.”
“You’re talking about hard for Megan, aren’t you? Not yourself?” she asked with a smile.
“Yeah. Well. It’s hard for me to watch her being so sick. Apparently, she was this sick with Cody, too. I feel bad I couldn’t be there for her.”
Carly was touched by his concern. This morning, while Carly had given Megan her back rub, she’d told Carly how she and Luke had met, fallen in love and been separated by misunderstanding for more than fourteen years.
She put a hand on his arm and said, “You’re here for her now, and that’s what matters, Luke. You can’t do over the past, but from what I’ve observed, you’re a wonderful father and an attentive husband. Megan’s a lucky woman.
”
His face brightened with a wide smile. “Thanks. You didn’t have to say that, but I appreciate that you did.”
“Where’s Megan now?”
“Sleeping. I let her sleep as much as she needs.”
“Wise man! Never get between a pregnant woman and her bed.”
Luke grinned and Carly covered her mouth. “Oh, I didn’t mean it to come out quite like that.”
Luke grasped her shoulder and steered her toward the kitchen. “I’ll tell Megan about it when she wakes up. She’ll get a giggle out of it.”
Carly paused before they entered the kitchen. “Luke, I wanted to let you know that my appointment book is filling up nicely. I’d like to start paying rent on the apartment, but your mom wouldn’t hear of it. I called some rental agents earlier, trying to find alternative accommodation in town, but—” she shook her head “—this is high season and there’s nothing available. If it’s not too inconvenient, I was hoping we could stay here until something comes up.”
“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like, Carly. And we won’t hear a word about you paying rent. It’s going to be difficult enough to get back on your feet. My girls are sure enjoying having your kids around and Megan feels as if you’re long-lost sisters. How could I possibly turn you out?”
Carly was so grateful, she rose up on tiptoe and placed a quick kiss on Luke’s cheek. “Thank you. Megan’s a very lucky woman to have you for a husband.”
Luke scraped his boot against the floor and pretended to go all shy. “Why shucks, ma’am. You’ll be givin’ me a head bigger than Orion, our ol’ prize-winning bull, if you keep sayin’ stuff like that.”
Carly dug him in the ribs. “And you can cut the country bumpkin act. I know what a good businessman and skilled rancher you are.”
Luke rubbed the back of his neck. “Thank you again. But all that responsibility comes with its downside.”
“Which is?”
“This crick in my neck. I didn’t want to take up any of your valuable appointment times, so I thought I might prevail upon you, whenever you have a spare minute.”