by Marie Harte
“I liked her. You?”
“She seemed sweet. Maybe too nice for Sam, though.”
“Sam needs a little sweetness in his life. God knows he gets his share of vinegar from Louise.” Eileen paused. “She sure was a pretty little thing.”
“Little? She’s bigger than you,” Jacob pointed out.
“True. But next to Sam, she’s small.”
“Next to Sam, the Portland Trailblazers are small.”
“Funny.” She stroked his chest. “I love you, Jacob.”
“Oh, Eileen. I love you too.”
“I just want Sam to know the same kind of love I have for you. The way Foley feels for Cyn.”
“He will someday. Remember, though, he and Ivy are new. There are bound to be tough times ahead.”
“Especially when Louise calls him. The good news is he’s not fighting anymore. Foley told me he’s been a lot calmer at Ray’s.” And according to Liam as well, who’d heard it from someone else, Sam had laid off those illegal matches.
“I still haven’t been to that bar. We really need to go there someday.”
“We really don’t.” She cringed. “I’ve been there.”
He laughed and hugged her to him. “Ah, Eileen. What would I do without you?”
She laughed with him, then they started kissing until she knew nothing but the wonder of Jacob, the second great love of her life.
* * *
Thursday late afternoon, Ivy had no idea why she felt so nervous. She’d been giving professional therapeutic massage for eight years. She felt more than comfortable around Sam. And since her last client had rescheduled for Saturday morning, Ivy had nothing to do with the rest of her day. What better time than to fit Sam in for an appointment?
She hadn’t forgotten how nice he’d been to fix her car, charging only for parts. She owed him big-time, and she didn’t want him to feel taken advantage of.
As she waited for him, she wondered how Cookie was doing. Between all of Sam’s friends and contacts through Willie, she seemed to have no end of dog-sitters, so her guilt at leaving Cookie alone so much didn’t come into play.
Still, she missed the little guy. She and Sam would pick him up from Lou on Sunday. She’d been ready to get him today, but apparently Lou’s little sister was in love and wanted more time with him.
Ivy had relented, because she’d remembered how badly she’d wanted a pet as a little girl. Something that would love her unconditionally. But Ethan had been allergic to cats, and her parents had no intention of letting a mongrel dog into their lives simply because Ivy wanted it. Bad enough they’d had a mongrel in her, she thought with bitter amusement.
Every now and again, she’d wonder about her family, about the nephew she’d never met and likely never would. Did they ever think about her? She’d pretty much resigned herself to having no familial connections, but she’d never understood why. What had she done but exist to make them all hate her?
Except hate was too strong a word. They’d have to feel something to hate her. Mostly they didn’t care, and that hurt most of all.
The door chimed and Sam stepped through. He gave her a sheepish half smile. “I’m kind of cruddy, but I tried to clean up. Dirt won’t come out of my nails no matter how hard I scrub. Friggin’ low-viscosity oil, my ass.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re here.” She felt better seeing Sam. He didn’t play games, and he didn’t do disinterest. He was too alive not to feel. “How was your day?”
“Exhausting.” Yet he smiled. “The guys keep giving me shit about you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, I’m too happy for work. It’s annoying the piss out of Lou though, and that makes my fucking day.” He chuckled. “Sorry. I’d give you a quarter, but I’m out.”
“What?”
“I told you about Del and her swear jar, right?” He quickly explained again, though she recalled him telling her before. “Woman should be able to go to the friggin’ Bahamas for a month off what she’s collecting from us in the garage.”
Ivy stifled a laugh. “Must be tough to talk with manners.”
He gave her a look. “Shut up.”
She gave in to her smile. “Well now, time for that massage, right?”
She felt as if she’d just stripped down naked, because the raw expression of lust on his face shocked her into feeling it as well. And Ivy never did sensual stuff at work. No hanky-panky. No way. She considered that a breach of trust. A client getting undressed and vulnerable on the table needed a therapist who respected boundaries.
Even if she did want Sam in the worst way, she relegated her desire to off-the-clock time.
She cleared her throat. “Come on in and we’ll get started.” She led him into her office, which had never before felt too small for her. Then she did a quick intake interview with him, determining—as she’d already known—he could handle a massage without medical worry. Then she listened to him complain about tension in his shoulders.
“You’re going to be a challenge.” No lie. The man had muscles like rocks. “But I’m up for it.”
“Yeah?” he said, his voice thick. “So am I.”
She followed his glance to his crotch and blushed. “Sam, this isn’t that kind of—”
“I know.” He blew out a breath. “I’m not trying to do this. I can’t help it.”
She felt flattered, amused, and shy—which made little sense. So she shook it off. “Okay.” She gave him the same talk she gave all her clients, determined to treat him like everyone else.
After she’d left him for a short time, she returned and closed the door behind her. Then she put on some relaxing music and turned to face him. Ivy dealt with bodies that came in all shapes and sizes. In her room, they were nothing but wounded people needing help. But she couldn’t stop herself from seeing Sam as a beautiful man. Physically, he had the most amazing body. The perfect V from his wide shoulders to his trim hips. Such thick biceps, a strong neck, and wow, he was long. His feet dangled over the table.
She had to concentrate to focus on him as a patient and not a sexy man. After she made him more comfortable and tucked the blanket and sheets around him, only exposing the top of his shoulders, she grabbed a heat pack from the hydroculator. “This will soften your tissue so you’re easier to work on. It will feel good.”
He lifted his head from the face cradle to wink at her. “Work anything you like, baby.”
She shoved his head back down with a laugh. “Stop. Now lie still. Oh boy. I might need to use the bigger pack. You’re huge.”
He said something she couldn’t make out, then chuckled, so she thought it best not to ask him to repeat it. Grabbing a larger heat pack and a towel, she placed them both directly over his shoulders. The heat pack could get superhot, and she didn’t want to burn him, thus the towel went on first. With the moist heat now over his upper traps, she could concentrate on his thick arms.
“While that heats up, I’m going to work on your arms and hands, okay?”
He mumbled a yes, and she got to work.
Twenty minutes later, after exhausting her hands on his steely forearms and hands, she worked his biceps and triceps and delts. She removed the heat pack, pleased to see his tissue had turned a nice pink.
“God, I feel good,” he said, sounding sleepy.
She smiled and started on his back, working a healing cream into his muscle. He felt like a slab of slightly softened granite, and she was sweating by the time she’d finished his left side. Turning to the right, she saw him fidget.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Face cradle bothering your sinuses?” Shaped like a doughnut, it supported the head and sides of the face, leaving the nose and mouth open so the client could breathe.
“A little.”
That much pressure
for an extended period of time could be uncomfortable. “I’ll turn you over after I work this side. Another ten minutes or so, okay?”
“Whatever. I feel so fuckin’ good,” he slurred.
Good old Sam and his potty mouth. Ivy continued to work the adhesions out of his tissue, using deep-tissue and trigger-point work together. But she’d never worked on a man of Sam’s immense size before. Even the bodybuilders she’d massaged hadn’t felt so dense.
The more she touched him, the closer she felt to him. Her intent to heal took her under once more, and she had to remind herself his face must be hurting from lying supine for so long.
“Okay, Sam. Now we’re going to turn you over. I’ll hold the sheet while you—”
“No. I’m good.”
She frowned. “Are you sure? Because it would probably help if I worked your pecs and anterior deltoids to balance—”
“You turn me over, you’re going to see how much I like this massage,” he said in a rough voice, having turned his head to the side so he could clearly talk to her. “I tried not to feel turned on, but I can’t help it. I’m fucking hard as hell, Ivy. And unless you want to finish me off in here, ’cause I’m more than happy to let you, I’d better get dressed.” He paused. “But you know, you can always do me later tonight.”
An offer she didn’t want to refuse. “I—”
His phone buzzed, sitting on top of his jeans in a chair in the corner of the room, and he propped himself on his elbows on the table. “Think about it. Now get out of here unless you want a real show.”
“Well…” She smiled.
He raised a brow and started to get up.
“Stop. Wait. I’m leaving.” She hurried out of the room. It might seem weird, considering she’d already seen him naked and touched and kissed certain parts of his body, but work was work. Such definite lines had been drawn for therapists, who’d been tagged with words like masseuse and were considered no more than prostitutes who kept their clothes on. Ivy was supercareful about always looking her professional best.
As much as she’d like to jump Sam’s bones, doing it here felt wrong. What if Shelby or Denise or a client walked in the door and heard her moaning? Heck no.
She waited nervously by the front desk for him. Denise had already finished early today, and Sue had an evening yoga class.
Two young men, likely in their early twenties, entered the clinic. They wore grungy jeans and sweatshirts but looked like potential clients.
“Hey, what is this place?” one of them asked. He stood taller than his friend, closer to six feet. When he looked at her, she felt strange.
Ivy didn’t get a good feel from him, but she didn’t worry. It was still daylight outside, and none of the businesses on the strip had ever been robbed when they’d been open. She smiled. “This is a massage therapy clinic.”
The men studied the place, the shorter of the two frowning at the hand weights and exercise balls along the wall. “What’s this stuff?”
“That’s for our trainer, Sue, who takes appointments for smaller groups. She has one later tonight, in fact. Did you guys want to book an appointment?” She noticed the smaller one seemed to favor his left shoulder. “I can tell you’ve got something going on with your shoulder.”
His dark eyes widened in surprise. “Uh, yeah. I wrenched it yesterday moving furniture. That’s what me and Derrick do. We haul stuff.”
“Oh, are you guys part of that group, Junkin’ and Funkin’? I’ve seen the trucks around town.” For college students moving people for extra money.
Derrick nodded, studying her. “Yeah.”
She turned to the injured guy. “Sounds like a good business.” She nodded to his shoulder. “Where is it hurting exactly?”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Derrick shook his head and looked at his phone. “No time, Sean. Thanks, lady. But we need to go.”
She grabbed two cards and approached them. Upon closer study, she thought them closer to her age. “Well, here you go. Take care of that shoulder. Rotator cuff injuries take a while to heal.”
Sean grimaced. “Yeah, I’m getting that.” He took the card and gave her a tentative smile. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. We’re here most days, but you can always call and schedule an appointment.” She gave a card to Derrick as well. “And guys in your line of work can’t be too careful.”
Derrick took the car and nodded. “No kidding. If I have to lift one more sofa bed, I might lose it.” He rotated his neck. “Might have to take you up on it. We came in because we thought you were some kind of spa place, and my girlfriend has been on my case to get her something nice for her birthday. But I don’t see perfumes or lotions.”
“Well, get her a massage. Those work too. I’m Ivy, by the way.”
He grinned. “Not a bad idea.” His smile left him as he looked over her shoulder. “Thanks, Ivy. We need to head out.”
He and Sean darted out the door. Ivy knew why. She turned to see Sam glowering after the guys who’d left. “Scaring future customers?”
He shook his head. “They looked shifty. I don’t like you here by yourself.”
“But I’m not.” She crossed to him. “I’m with you.”
His frown eased. “Yeah, you are.” He rolled his neck and moved his shoulders. “Ivy, damn. You’re amazing. I feel so friggin’ relaxed right now.”
Proud that she’d proved to Sam she was good at her job, she showed him a few stretches that might help ease his back and shoulders as well. “So do you want to come back for more sessions? I owe you a few more for the car.”
Sam sighed. “Sorry, no can do.”
“Oh.” Hurt, because she’d thought he’d liked her work, she tried to figure out how to repay him. Maybe installments?
“Don’t look like that.” He pulled her in for a hug. “I feel like a million bucks. But, Ivy”—he lowered his voice—“I’m still in pain, and you can’t fix that here.”
She blushed. “Sam.”
He grinned. “I’m afraid any visits to see you are going to end with me hard and you turning all red in the face. So instead of massaging me here, can we do it at my place or yours? And I’m not talking about sex. I felt a little weird being naked here. And I want to be totally relaxed with you. If I’m sporting wood on my back at home, you won’t be all freaked out. Tempted, sure, but not worried I’ll make you look like a ho.”
She blinked. “Ah, thanks?”
He chuckled. “No problem. So what about tonight? Dinner? Or are you busy? ’Cause we can always do another day.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.
Nerves.
But what did he have to be nervous about? “I’m done for the day and puppy-less. I have nothing but time.”
He nodded. “Cool.” Then he frowned. “Ah, I have to take care of something first.”
“Your phone call?” The man never seemed to answer his cell.
He scowled. “No. Something else.” He paused, as if in thought. “Can I swing by to get you at eight? And do you need to be in early tomorrow?”
“Not until noon. My Friday afternoon and evening are full, but my morning is free.”
“Great.” He withdrew his hands from his pockets and stepped toward her. “I guess I shouldn’t kiss you here. Don’t want to screw with your rep and all.”
“No, that’s okay. A kiss from my boyfriend is allowed.” Boyfriend. That seemed too tame a word for what Sam meant to her.
But he seemed to like it. The kiss he gave her was chaste, sweet, and had her knees shaking. “I’ll see you later tonight. Oh, and don’t forget you promised to help me pick out a suit for Del’s wedding. Saturday work for you?”
She should say no, should take some time away from Sam so she could breathe without obsessing over the man. “Sounds great. I’ll see you tonight.”
He left with a wave, and sh
e wondered what he had planned for tonight, and why she suddenly couldn’t think about anything else.
Chapter 16
He’d put it off long enough. With a sigh, he called Louise back.
“About fuckin’ time,” she said, her voice husky from years spent abusing cigarettes.
“What do you want?” No sense in being polite; she didn’t care either way.
“I need some help with something.”
Shit. He didn’t want to see her. She always put him in a funk, and Foley told him he acted like an asshole for days after being with Louise. Not like Sam could help it. He needed time to decompress after being around his mother. But what if Ivy thought he was acting weird? Distance from Louise was the obvious answer, but the woman wouldn’t stop bugging him if he ignored her.
She’d once threatened to come to Eileen’s house when, as a kid, he’d refused to come home. Since he didn’t want her ugliness around people he liked, he’d conceded to her demands. And as long as he kept doing what she wanted, she left him mostly alone.
Now she knew he worked at Webster’s. He could just see her drugged-out ass busting up his job. He’d worked hard to fit in at the garage, and he liked it there. He didn’t need her interfering, especially not now, with Ivy in the picture. He blanched, imagining his mother laying into her. God only knew what crap Louise would tell her.
“Well?” she snapped. “You coming or what?”
“I’ll be there on Sunday.”
“But I—”
“Sunday,” he snapped back, “or you can fix your damn mess yourself.” He’d never talked to her like that before. Despite all she’d done, he’d remained quiet, if not loving, then at least respectful. But he’d never had anything he feared losing like Ivy.
Foley and Eileen had met Louise. They knew she was bad news. Ivy didn’t, and he wanted to keep it that way.
Louise remained quiet a moment. “Fine.” Then she disconnected.
That out of the way, he could breathe a little easier. He started his car and drove downtown. Now to get to the next big project—making tonight unforgettable for Ivy. The big night. His palms felt sweaty, and he got the biggest hard-on thinking about what he wanted to do with her. Man, they were finally going to have sex. Make love. Whatever. Sliding inside her again, feeling that hot pussy gloving him while he stared into her eyes. Unlike his other sexual encounters, he connected with Ivy all over. He didn’t want a faceless fuck. And with Ivy, it wouldn’t be that way. He knew exactly who he was with in her arms. But this time he planned to finish inside her.
