Vale stills her fingers. The silence is almost deafening, and I wish I could see her face. I want to know what’s going on in her head.
“Why would you continue to do that?” Her voice is quiet while incredulous, like she doesn’t understand how I could continue the risk, when the rewards offset any potential danger.
Haven Exteriors has turned into a gold mine of success, and I’m proud of what Clint and I have built even if it is vastly different from where I thought I’d be. Not that I thought I could play professional football forever, but I still never saw, neverenvisioned, where my life would be after the pros.
“Fall down seven times. Get up eight.” I’ve heard the philosophy several times over the course of my life.
Vale huffs. “That sounds like something Stone would say.”
At the mention of her brother, tense silence fills the room again. Like something noxious and invisible has been pumped into the space. I can’t breathe and I’m certain Vale is holding her breath as well. The topic of her brother is off-limits.
A painfully long minute passes before Vale settles her fingers back on my lower back and returns to working on my muscles.
So much for small talk.
The remainder of my time spirals between being over too soon and feeling like it lasted forever.
When Vale finishes, she places her hands gently on the middle of my back again.
“All right, Cort. We’re finished for today.”
Unfortunately, I don’t feel finished with her, and I turn my head on the awkward pillow so I can see her better. She spins for the counter and types into her tablet before facing the massage table again. Reaching for the sheet over the lower half of my body, she rights the material even though I’m about to sit up. She tenderly smooths down the sheet allowing her hand to slip over my hip where I catch her pinky and ring finger before Vale can step away.
From my position, I watch as Vale glances down to where my larger fingers wrap around her two smaller ones, holding on longer than necessary. Holding on at all probably shouldn’t be happening but I’m afraid to let go. Afraid of the emotions she’s stirring inside me. But mostly afraid they’ll disappear.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She’ll never understand how monumental it’s been to have her touching me. Or how stimulating in a manner more than sexual.
And by Thursday night, I find myself parked on a bar stool in Milton Roadhouse again, hoping to catch another glimpse of Vale Sylver.
9
[Vale]
When Cort asked me about my time at Reflexology, my initially snappish response was necessary. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to talk to him, it’s just that most clients prefer the quiet and the soft hum of relaxation music piped into the room. For myself, I’d been struggling to keep my head in the process of disassociation, working my fingers along another human for purposes that are medicinal and not sexual.
Because Cort has a back that is sexy as sin. A scar near his right shoulder blade adds to the seductive edge, and my mind kept wandering, wondering what it would feel like to lay my hands on him in another manner. Spread my palms over the expanse of his back and feel his weight over my body. The thought was completely unprofessional, and one I’d never ever had before with a client.
When he asked me about myself, I’d been so lost in my head, my throat strained my answer.
A minute passed before I realized two things. Cort might havewantedme to talk to ease his discomfort. He also might have asked because he really wanted to know the answer. The second one seemed a bit far-fetched. Cortland has had twelve years to ask me questions and offer me some explanations.
Then again, I got the message loud and clear that day in the woods.
Unfortunately, Cort was not the answer to my prayers. He wasn’t mine and never would be. It was the wake up call I’d needed to move on with my life.
Not that my life was on hold. Back then, I had one more year of school to complete my physical therapy degree and then I’d be moving on to a bigger city. Knoxville or Nashville or Atlanta. I didn’t care where. The only qualification was that I be far away from Sterling Falls.
Everyone else had escaped.
Ford left to play professional baseball. Knox went into the military. Even as wrong as it sounds, Sebastian had an out by spending time in jail. Stone and Judd both had plans to leave forever but were sucked back into the vortex. Clay was the only one who never saw himself leaving.
Regardless, I had dreams outside of this mountain town.
Then I had Hudson. Stone took me in, gave me a year to spend time with my young son,and thenI started using my degree. The furthest I’d gotten from Sterling Falls was one town over. Most days, I tell myself the distance no longer matters. My life is what it is.
However, when I find myself sitting on a bar stool in Milton Roadhouse before another book club, Kindle on the bar, and Coke in my glass, I’m struck again with how lonely my life is.
