“So what are you working on at 8:30 a.m.?” he asks as he takes the seat beside me.
“Nothing important,” I quickly answer. I haven’t written in years and can hear Lucas telling me no one would ever beinterested in what I write . . .No, I tell myself mentally, remembering the speech I gave myself last night. I am choosing to forget Lucas and I am choosing to go after this dream of mine.
I always assumed that getting the actual divorce would be the hardest part of moving on. I was wrong. The hardest is what comes after. It’s the rediscovering, accepting, and sharing yourself with others that’s the hard part.
“Must be important if you brought your laptop on vacation, plus you looked too concentrated for it to be nothing,” he probes, leaning back in his chair and getting comfortable, as if he’s actually interested.
“You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” I answer, feeling that doubt creeping back into my mind again, as if I’ll never be able to get rid of it. Turning away from him, I take a deep breath before the emotions take a hold of me. Another deep breath and I give myself a mental shake, reminding myself that not everybody will judge me or think that my ideas are stupid.
“Doubtful, but that’s fine,” he says, letting it go as he turns to take in the view. I take the opportunity to take him in, more than I did five minutes ago. He looks so at home with a backwards Calgary Rockies ball cap and thick lines of muscle under his T-shirt completely relaxed. Making my way down, I get caught on the sight of black tattoo spreading out under the sleeve of his T-shirt and going down all the way to his wrist. I’ve never thought of tattoos as attractive, but I swear they just add to Ian’s hotness. I can’t help but stare at his forearm flexing as he takes another sip of his coffee.
“You working on your book?” he asks, nudging my foot under the table, unfortunately, breaking me out of my staring.
“How do you know about that?” I ask, startled and a little embarrassed that he knows I’m trying to write a book.
“Levi told me and I did hear him ask you if you were planning on writing a smut book when we were at JJ’s,” he answers, nodding to my laptop with his chin.
“That guy can’t keep anything to himself,” I say with an eye-roll. “Yes, I was working on my book. I woke up before six, so I decided to come sit out here and do something useful with my time while everyone was sleeping.”
“Please don’t let me interrupt,” Ian says as he goes to stand up.
“No,” I quickly say, grabbing onto his wrist. Instantly goose bumps break out across my arm. “Stay. I didn’t mean it that way. You’re not interrupting, I was about to call it anyways.” For some reason I don’t want him to leave.
“You sure?” he asks with a smirk, looking down at his wrist that is still encased by my fingers. Letting go, I push my sunglasses up on my nose, grab my mug, and turn my attention to the mountains.
“Yeah, stay,” I finally answer.
After a few moments, he breaks the silence, “I don’t want to tell you what to do but . . . You should probably put on some sunscreen, or I can open up the patio umbrella. You’re looking pretty toasty . . .” he says, trying to hide a smile behind his coffee mug.
“Not funny!” I say. “We forgot to bring sunscreen yesterday on our hike.”
“Last time I forgot sunscreen, I thought I was dying. I went on a trail ride only wearing a ball cap and burned the back of my neck pretty badly.”
“I think my shoulders and back of my neck are the worst too,” I say as I stand up to open the umbrella.
“Did you bring aloe?” he asks once the umbrella is up.
“No, but Lacey did. I’m waiting for her to get up so I can put some on,” I say, settling back into my seat.
“Don’t move,” Ian says as he jumps up and heads back into the cabin. A few seconds later, he comes back out holding a bottle of aloe vera.
“Since that last sunburn, I never go anywhere without this stuff,” he explains as he comes to stand behind me. “How about you put your hair up, and I make sure you get some aloe everywhere.”
Putting my hair up in a messy bun with the scrunchy I have around my wrist, I start questioning why I’m letting an almost complete stranger rub aloe vera all over my back. I slowly take off the oversized crew neck I had on and lay it across my lap. Must be the big-dick energy that oozes out of this guy, wreaking havoc on my brain. And those damn tattoos. Or, it’s the fact that he just has something about him that makes me feel completely at ease.
“All right, this might be a little cold,” Ian says. Does he sound breathless? Why would a top athlete be breathless? Clearly, I’ve been reading too many romance novels. That, or I need to take Lacey’s advice and get laid.
Cold hands make me jump and lose my train of thought.
“Sorry,” Ian says with a small laugh, as he runs his hands across my upper back.
Leaning forward, relaxing a bit so he can get the entirety of my neck, I let out a surprise low moan.
“Sore?” Ian asks, but before I have the chance to react myself and before I can answer, he starts massaging my shoulders.
“Apparently,” I answer, with a shaky laugh, trying to wrap my head around why I’m so comfortable letting him touch me like this. Or why his touch feels so good. He’s only touching my shoulders, but I can feel his hands all the way down to my toes. Goosebumps are appearing on my arms and legs, and it’s not because it’s cold out.
“No worries, I’ve gotten enough massages in my day to know what works,” he answers softly.
