“I’m not sure that’s our thing,” I add with a smile.
“Oh no, listen here, it’s everyone’sthing. It is absolutely yours too.” Her voice is stern. “She can read a couple like a book. A real sixth sense, you see, like a psychic. After our last couple’s massage, she pulled me aside and told me that Leelyn was mad at me. And she was! She was harboring resentmentfrom the weekend prior. I had no idea! Neither did she! I’m going to send Colette over tomorrow with compliments from me for a two-hour couple’s massage.” She looks between us, her eyes sharp. “She’ll sort you both out. Teach you how to best touch each other. It’s helped my marriage, one hundred percent.”
“Tomorrow?” My voice comes out a little weak. It’s hard to resist the clear demand of a woman half legend, half icon.
“Yes. Tomorrow.” Her lips curve into a smile, and she looks like a shark moments before striking. “Truly, I’ll be very offended if you don’t accept.”
“You’re too kind,” Rafe says. “Thank you, Sylvie.”
“We’re so grateful,” I add.
My eyes meet Rafe’s. Neither of us says another word. Forthe first time ever, I think we might be entirely on the same page.
What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?
CHAPTER 22
PAIGE
Colette is a soft-spoken woman in her thirties with a high ponytail and a no-nonsense demeanor. She sets up a massage table in the downstairs guest bedroom and tells us to prepare for both of our sessions. She’s a clear professional, arriving with an array of oils, a scent diffuser, and her own stack of towels.
Rafe is first out. I walk in when he’s already lying face down on the table, a towel draped over his midsection, and Colette offering me oil. I slowly rub it into my hands and watch Rafe’s prone form.
We both agreed there was no way out of this. Sylvie will ask Colette about this later.How were they? Did they seem… in love?It’s another performance.
But it’s a very different kind.
I’m meant to be intimately aware of him, so I step up and put a hand on his shoulder. It’s strong beneath my hand, the skin warm. “I’m ready,” I tell Colette.
There’s somuchof him.
She shows me where to put my hands, to warm up the skin of his back and smooth over muscle. He has more of itthan I’d thought. There are grooves by his shoulder blades and the skin is taut over his wide shoulders.
I’ve never touched anything but his hand before. And one single, quick kiss. But this should be easy. Objectively speaking he’s a very handsome man. And objectively speaking he has a very nice back.
It’s unfair that men can get this much muscle. Back when I trained more, it was hard to get visible muscle definition in my arms, and here he is, with corded muscle and defined shoulders.
He’s quiet. Tense, too.
Colette remarks on it, and I can feel it in the warm skin beneath my hands, the stiffness of his muscles. Colette helps me identify a knot, and I knead it under her guidance.
“You have to work less, honey,” I tell him in my sweetest voice. Touching him doesn’t feel hard. But it should, and it feels like a betrayal of my own goals that it’s so very easy to smooth my hands over his warm skin.
“I’ll get some more oil,” Colette says. She turns around, and I take the moment to press down hard on the knot.
There’s a muffled groan against the massage table. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Was that too hard?”
“Perfect,” Rafe grinds out. It’s the first time he’s spoken since I entered.
“You’re so tense.” I dig my thumbs into his traps like Colette showed and lean in closer. “You should relax more. Scheme less.”
Rafe can’t turn his head. But I hear the words, faint and muttered though they are. “You’re one to talk.”
Colette returns with a glass bottle of floral-smelling oil. “Here. You do the honors.”
I smile back at her and show her what I’ve learned over Rafe’s back. I’m softness itself, so caring and so very kind, and don’t press too hard while she watches.
“This is a fantastic way to strengthen a relationship,” shesays, and moves down to massage his calves while I focus on his back. “Work this into your routine once a week, and it will do wonders.”
