by Annie Seaton
Sol went to accept and then hesitated. Sally said she didn’t have any appointments till her class tomorrow night. And if she was happy to stay here tonight, he could almost knock over his thesis if he worked late, and then he could take it with him ready to print out and get bound at the university print shop tomorrow.
‘Take a look at it, and see what you think.’ He walked around and looked at the motor as Mac fiddled and put a tool into the deep recesses of the engine that remained a mystery to Sol.
‘Yep, she’d as dead as a door nail. Do you want me to drop the new one out in the morning?’
As Sol nodded, the old mechanic stared at Sally’s car and the mess of foam that had stuck to the grass. ‘Otis got out, did he?’
Sol nodded glumly. ‘Yes. Got into the goats and then my friend’s car.’
‘He’s a bugger. Always has been. At least he wasn’t out chasing wombats.’
‘He spent the morning doing that.’
Mac laughed and Sol couldn’t help but smile too.
SALLY FOUND A TRAY under the toaster and loaded the three coffee cups onto that. As she balanced the tray and walked towards the shed, Sol and the mechanic were laughing.
‘Sally, this is Mac.’ Sol reached out and took the tray from her. ‘Thank you.’
The older man wiped his hand on the side of his overalls and held it out to her. ‘Nice to meet you, love. What are you doing spending time with this lazy fella?’
Sally swallowed, unsure of how to answer.
‘Don’t worry. I’m just having a lend of him. Goodness knows the little larrikin caused me enough trouble when he was a kid. Used to spend a lot of time out here on the farm.’ He nodded at her car. ‘Got a bit of car trouble too, I see.’
‘Yes.’ she nodded, with a wry smile. ‘About time I got a new one. Otis just helped me along.’
‘Nice girl.’ Mac said to Sol as he took a mug from the tray. ‘Good coffee, too, love. You hang on to this one, Sol.’
‘Oh but—’ She stopped. There was no need to go into what she was doing out here.
Mac drained his coffee and jumped up into the truck. ‘See you in the morning.’ He stuck his head out the window as he started the truck. ‘Nice outfit, love. That hoodie used to be Pearl’s favourite.’
‘In the morning?’Sally frowned as he backed down the driveway. ‘And who’s Pearl?’
‘Aunty Pearl was Dave’s mother. Mac didn’t have a battery in stock. You said there was no rush to get home.’ He stood beside her and wrinkled his brow. ‘Are you okay about staying here with me tonight? In the spare room, of course,’ he added quickly. ‘I can always get you a taxi if you’d rather go back to the city.’
‘That’s fine.’ She thought for a moment. ‘As long as it’s early. I left enough dry cat food and water out so Muggins will be fine. And I can take you through some more of my notes if you need more info.’ Sally stared up at him. ‘And besides a taxi would cost hundreds from here!’
‘Okay, more work together would be great. I still have a couple of questions.’ Sol winced as he took a step forward.
‘Your back?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He balanced the tray in one hand and leaned to the side. ‘Damn dog. I honestly don’t know why Dave keeps him.’
‘Probably because he’s a part of his family.’
‘There’s only Dave.’ Sol shook his head. ‘He’s overseas lately more than he’s home and I’ve become Otis’s surrogate owner.’
‘So what’s wrong with that?’ Sally asked as they walked back to the house.
Sol laughed. ‘Are you serious? The woman who now needs a new car has to ask that. And before you argue, I’m going to reimburse you.’
‘What, for a new car?’ She laughed too, until he nodded.
‘It’s the least I can do.’
She stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. ‘Whoa. Stop right there. That is entirely unnecessary. I’ve got insurance and I’ll sort it. Okay?’
Blake had tried to take over every aspect of her life, and Sol’s insistence about the car—and about paying for a taxi if she wanted one—riled her. It was a timely warning to put a stop to those little frissons of attraction that had been firing her nerve endings all day. But it was easier to decide that, than to tell her body to stop it. As she looked up at him, the butterflies were almost stamping their feet on their way south.
‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’
Sally lifted her hand. ‘Okay, truce. You stop telling me what to do, and I’ll stop being cranky.’
‘Sounds good to me.
Chapter 10
Despite his sore back, Sol cooked an incredible pasta dish for dinner. Sally leaned back when her bowl was empty and put her hands on her stomach.
‘That was close to the best meal I have ever eaten.’
‘Only close?’ He beamed so much he almost lit up the dim kitchen; they’d eaten by the light of the fire and one candle on the table. ‘I did a few cooking courses between my degrees. I’ve got a Cert three in Commercial Cookery. When I worked in an Italian restaurant in Newcastle, Giuseppe taught me some fabulous dishes.’
‘Between degrees?’ Sally shook her head. ‘You sure are one interesting guy.’ She stretched and Otis stirred on the rag rug in front of the fire.
Sol drained his wine glass and pushed his chair back. ‘I’ll go and feed him.’
‘I’ll do the dishes while you do.’ Sally pushed her chair back. ‘It’s the least I can do.’
She put her hand up as Sol opened his mouth. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t thank me one more time.’ As the delectable Italian sauce had simmered on the stove, they’d shared a bottle of red wine, and Sol had asked more questions about her notes, and he must have thanked her about ten times. She’d been relaxed, and the questions he’d asked about the more intimate aspects of tantric massage hadn’t fazed her as much as they would have in the cold light of day.
‘Some practitioners say it creates an altered state of consciousness, sometimes called an erotic trance state which is a taste of bliss beyond time.’
‘But you?’ A warm flush ran up her back as he held her gaze over the ruby red wine in his glass. ‘What do you call it? Do you ever use it?’
‘There is a place for it in psychotherapy, but as a simple yoga instructor, it’s played an occasional part in my repertoire of skills.’ She giggled at the look on his face.
‘Oh?’ he said.
Very restrained.
‘Tantric yoga is a powerful combination of energies that you can use to build strength, clarity, and bliss in everyday life. For my clients who are interested, there’s an excellent You Tube clip that I refer them to. But that’s it. It’s a bit too personal and hands on for my comfort zone.’
Sol reached over for the plates and Sally shook her head. ‘Uh uh. My job. You look after Otis, and then go and rest that back.’
For a second or two she thought of suggesting a massage to ease his pain, but after the discussion on Tantric massage, she worried that he’d think she was coming onto him. And that she didn’t want.
It was bad enough that she’d been buzzing before the wine, and since she’d drunk two glasses of red with the pasta she had to focus harder on staying distant and restrained.
Right out of my comfort zone now, Sonia!
Very. Sally giggled as a hiccup escaped her lips.
Sol glanced at her as he poured the dog kibble into a bowl. ‘All okay?’
She nodded slowly. ‘All good.’
Her clothes had dried before dinner, and she felt much more comfortable back in her own clothes again. Poor old Pearl’s purple hoodie might have been warm but she hadn’t felt quite herself in borrowed clothes. It was as though she stepped into a different world. Or maybe out of her comfort zone. Sally smoothed her hand down the side of her jeans as Sol came back to the table.
‘Dessert?’
She looked up at his face highlighted by the flickering candlelight as he s
tood by the table. His eyes were hidden, but his smile was in evidence.
Oh, yes please, she thought, as she looked up at him and then cleared her throat. Those butterflies started flying around in her tummy again and she tried to look serious. ‘Dessert?’
‘Tiramisu. Can I tempt you?’
Tempt her?
Um yes, please. But it was never good to look too keen.
‘Maybe just a taste.’
‘It’s Giuseppe’s recipe.’
Sally shook her head unable to hold back her curiosity any longer. ‘Okay, so tell me. A doctorate in psychology?’
‘Almost.’ His tone was modest.
‘Commercial cooking?’
He nodded.
‘Pastry chef?’
Another nod.
And veterinary science?’
‘Another set of exams and then I qualify.’ He shook his head. ‘I will practise.’ But Sally got the impression the words were for his benefit rather than hers.
‘Anything else?’ She leaned her head back and observed him. The smile playing around his lips as he put the bowl of dessert in front of her was beyond sexy. Or was that her looking at it through wine-soaked eyes?
‘I did my pilot training before I left school.’ He sat down and picked up his spoon. ‘That’s enough about me. Now tell me about you.’
‘Pretty boring,’ she said. ‘Sonia and I were born on a farm on the other side of Wagga. Our parents were killed in an accident when we were only eighteen and we moved to Sydney to live with Dad’s brother.’ She tried a spoonful of the Tiramisu and closed her eyes.
Bliss.
‘It didn’t work out, and I’d met Rosie at college when I was getting my certificate’—she lifted her spoon into the air and waved it around—‘my only certificate, I might add. She was looking for someone else to move into the house at Bondi and we jumped at it. When we both qualified, we started Divine Soul Sisters.’
‘You were the yoga instructor?’
She nodded and almost inhaled the next spoonful of dessert. ‘Sometimes I helped Rosie—she’s a remedial massage therapist— with massage when she got too busy, but after a while we all picked up our own clients and classes.’
‘And Sonia? Is she a Divine Soul Sister too?’
‘Sonia has her own special talents.’ The wine gave her courage. ‘How . . . um . . . open-minded are you?’
‘Well, we’ve already established I believe in ghosts.’ His smile came in for the kill and the butterflies had babies. ‘Is she a medium?’
‘Close. Sonia reads tea leaves and she’s a clairvoyant.’
Sol shook his head. ‘And you think I’ve got an interesting background. I love it. Makes my academic life seem so boring.’
‘It’s not as exotic as it sounds. Business has fallen away this winter, and it’s been hard to—’ She cut her words off. He didn’t want to hear about the financial woes of the household.
All was quiet for a moment and Sally looked down at her bowl with surprise. The dessert was all gone, and Sol was looking at her with approval.
Otis moaned under the table and Sally lifted the tablecloth and peered underneath. The dog rolled over and lay on his back, his eyes closed, and his mouth opened as he snored. ‘Don’t tell me he had some Tiramisu too?’
Sol shook his head and his teeth flashed in a smile. ‘No, dogs can’t eat chocolate.’ He stood and as he leaned forward to reach for the wine, he gasped and his face went white.
Sally jumped up and took his arm. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘My back just caught. I can’t straighten up.’
She took his hand in hers and gently pulled him away from the table. ‘Have you got a high bed in one of the bedrooms.’
He nodded as perspiration dotted his brow. ‘In the main bedroom. Pearl had a bad back. There’s a board under the mattress. And it’s high.’
‘You’ll have to tell me which room.’
‘Down the hall, past the bathroom and the last door on the right.’ He hung onto her hand like grim death.
Once they got there, she sat him carefully on the edge of the high bed. Putting on her most professional voice, she said softly. ‘Now can you lift your arms up and take off your shirt?’ Sally dug deep for professionalism as Sol lifted his shirt off, but her mouth still dried. The bed was really high, and a gorgeous, smooth, tanned chest, lightly sprinkled with fine dark hair met her at eye level.
‘Now while I go out to the car and get some oil, can you get over onto your stomach?’ As she spoke she went into the bathroom next to the bedroom and collected two towels. She rolled up one to put beneath his head, and spread the other on the end of the bed.
‘Oil?’
‘Yes. I’m going to ease your back for you. If we can find the offending muscle, you’ll feel much better within an hour.’
She backed out of the room as he lay down.
Chapter 11
Sol’s back had given out on him several times over the past few years but he’d never been happy about it before. As he lay there with his eyes closed, and Sally’s strong fingers ran up and down the backs of his legs, he thought about going to the butcher and buying Otis a year’s supply of bones.
First time he’d ever been grateful to the damn dog.
His eyelids flickered open as he sensed the light change and soft music surrounded him.
‘Have you ever had a massage before?’ Sally’s voice was soft.
‘No.’
‘Not even for relaxation?’
He shook his head; it was hard to speak with his face in the rolled up towel. Firm hands pressed on his shoulders.
‘Keep your head still.
He obliged. He wasn’t going to move at all and he hoped and prayed that he didn’t have to turn over at any point soon.
‘It was lucky I always carry my gear in the car.’ A light chuckle came from just near his ear. ‘Even luckier for you that Otis didn’t get into the back seat and find the massage oil and my CD player.’
Warm fingers stroked from his neck down to his waist, and Sol was hard pressed not to groan. It was even harder when she hooked her fingers under the waistband of his track pants and pulled them down over his butt. As the cool air hit his bare skin, she placed a towel over his back.
‘Lift your hips a little if you can. I’m just going to slip another rolled up towel under your groin.’
Managing that was a miracle but he did.
Sally’s voice blended with the music as her fingers moved up and down the backs of his legs. The smell of the oil was unusual but pleasant.
‘Like I told you the other day, I did some courses with Rosie when I was at college before I followed the yoga path. Now there are two types of massage: relaxation and remedial. First off, I’ll relax you with long flowing strokes, kneading and some gentle manipulations of your muscles. A relaxation massage is to de-stress you and loosen your body. Once you’re relaxed, I’ll look for that pesky muscle and find the trigger points, but it might hurt a bit.’
The pesky muscle that he’d pulled when he’d tackled Otis wasn’t the one that was misbehaving at the moment. Sol gulped, trying to think of something that would take his mind off the gentle fingers caressing the backs of his thighs.
Getting the pages in order for his thesis. He worked his way through the chapters in his head, and by the time he had his physical reaction under control, Sally’s hands had moved to his feet, and Sol tried not to chuckle. His feet were ticklish. Her hands went around his ankle and she tugged at his legs.
‘Hmm,’ she said.
‘Hmm, what,’ he murmured.
‘Your left leg is about four centimetres shorter than your right at the moment. It’s the right side of your back that’s sore, isn’t it?’
‘Yep.’ He jerked as she tugged at his leg and the pain shot through his back. ‘Ow.’
‘Good. I know where to work now.’
Sol wanted to say that she’d been doing just fine where she’d been before but he kept his mou
th shut.
‘I’m going to work on the trigger point now. Do you know what that is?’
He went to shake his head but thought better of it. ‘No.’
‘The injured muscle’s taut and your other muscles are compensating. That contributes to the pain. I’ll palpate the muscle that’s not performing—’
God give me strength, he thought.
‘I’ll apply compression to quite precise points and the pain you feel will be intense to start with, but I’ll tell you to breathe it out for thirty to ninety seconds. The longer you can bear it, the quicker it will heal.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
Not.
‘Okay. you ready?’
When Sally climbed up on the bed and put her knees either side of his back, Sol headed straight back to chapter counting. The fabric of her jeans was soft against his hips, and each time she leaned forward and deepened the strokes on his back, it swished against his bare skin.
‘Now, Sol. Breathe in and hold it until I tell you to let go.’ Her knees gripped his hips.
‘Fuck!’ he couldn’t help the expletive as excruciating pain radiated across his back and down his right hip. It felt like she’d sliced a knife through his muscle.
Sally leaned down and her hair brushed his cheek as she spoke softly into his ear. ‘No talking, no yelling. Just breathe in. We’ll start again.’
This time he was ready. He took in a deep breath and held it as the pain built in intensity.
‘Okay. Let it out slowly.’
As he let the breath out, the pain eased as the air left his lips.
‘Good.’ Her voice was louder and brisk as she straightened up.
‘Ready for the next one?’
Another ten minutes of torture and Sol didn’t need to worry about being embarrassed, turning over or even getting off the bed. He breathed in and out as she told him to, and waited for the welcome gaps between the pressure she placed on each trigger point. How strong was she? When he didn’t think he could take any more, her fingers slid smooth and warm up over his shoulder blades.