Goddammit.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Everly asks in that sweet little voice, her brow furrowed.
“I’m sure.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me.
“Do you…want me to massage it?” she asks.
The question throws me for a loop. I stare at her, unable to say anything other than, “What?”
She immediately looks embarrassed, her cheeks flaming. “Sorry, was that a weird thing to ask?”
“No,” I clear my throat, trying to stop my voice sounding so hoarse. “Just wasn’t expecting it.”
“I took a few sports massage classes back in Chicago,” she says, talking fast like she’s trying to explain herself. “I wanted to learn how to massage my calves after a run, but we covered shoulders too.”
I nod, swallowing hard. There’s a chance this might hurt like hell, but fuck, it’s worth it for Everly’s hands on me.
“A massage would be great,” I tell her. “Thanks.”
She nods, smiling like she’s happy to be useful.
So adorable.
I can’t get over how she looks in my shirt, the fabric draped over her curves, doing nothing to hide the swell of her breasts. Her bra and panties are currently drying in the sun, along with her leggings and t-shirt. My flannel is the only thing she’s wearing, and the thought does nothing to relax my tense muscles. It winds me up tighter, my whole body fighting for restraint.
I suck in a breath as Everly moves to sit behind me. I can feel her warm breath on the back of my neck, and when her hand settles on my shoulder, I shudder at the contact.
“Do you promise you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you?” she asks.
“Promise.”
She starts to massage my shoulder, her movements firmer and more confident than I was expecting. She’s pretty damn good at this. Her fingers move with just the right amount of pressure, loosening my stiff tendons, gradually easing the pain.
“God, that feels good,” I murmur, letting out a deep groan as she rolls her hand against the perfect spot. The noise sounds suggestive as hell, and I hear Everly suck in a breath before she continues.
Her skin is so damn soft. Baby-smooth, so unlike my calloused hands. I keep catching her scent from behind me—sweet and fresh, like dewy grass and sunshine. A hint of my shampoo. I breathe her in and close my eyes, losing myself in her touch.
“Gunnar…”
My eyes snap open. I know what she’s about to ask me. I can tell from the apologetic way she says my name.
“What happened to your shoulder?” she says quietly, as I knew she would. There’s a pause before she quickly adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”
I don’t answer right away. It’s not a story I’m proud of, and I’m reluctant to admit my stupid mistakes to Everly. But she wants to know, and hell, I don’t think I could ever deny this woman anything.
“It happened just over a year ago,” I say, frowning as I cast my mind back. “I was out chopping wood. Had a lumber order to fill. But I shouldn’t have been out there that day.”
“Why not?”
“There was a storm coming.” I heave a sigh, running a hand over my beard. “Could feel it in the air. All the signs were there, but I was a cocky asshole and told myself I could handle it. Made the mistake of underestimating the mountain.”
I feel a surge of anger toward my past self, but Everly’s touch grounds me. Her hands are still moving over my shoulder, kneading gently, and I let the feeling calm me before I continue.
“Sure enough, the storm came. It was a doozy. Blowing like a damn hurricane by the time I finished the job. Torrential rain. But I wasn’t far from home. I thought I could make it just fine, soI started heading back. I got as far as my neighbor’s cabin. Then I heard a loud crack. A tree falling, a big dead oak. I didn’t move fast enough.”
“Oh God…” Everly breathes.
