Page 27 of The Mechanics of Broomstick Racing

The glass, looking out over the void, was her idea of exposure therapy.

“I never took you for a minimalist,” Neil admitted as he took in her bedroom.

“Still moving in,” she replied. “And don’t look in the closet.”

“Maybe I should make sure you don’t have a shrine to me in there.”

“If you want to end up buried in an avalanche of clothes, go for it,” she said. She rubbed her arms, wishing she could keep her foot from tapping on the wooden floor. Nervous was new for her.

Neil reached forward to take her hand in his. His thumb brushed her knuckles so tenderly she almost wanted to cry. Would he treat the rest of her that way? Her crash had left her with a maze of scars. It terrified her to show him the fading results of her many surgeries. Or it used to terrify her.

She had to lighten the air. Zephyr used their joined hands to tug him toward her bathroom. “You’ve been working all day, and not that I don’t find those coveralls attractive, but I think you should shower.”

He let her lead the way. “And I think you should join me.”

She froze. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I can’t say I agree.”

Sure, it sounded good to him. He didn’t know what a mess her body had become, and the lighting in the bathroom was too revealing. Still, Zephyr wanted to get into that shower with him. When she had her bedroom wall replaced with glass, the contractor had talked her into a bathroom remodel, too. It had been so hard to refuse the upsell when she had the funds, and the idea of tearing her childhood home apart and rebuilding it to her specifications had sounded so good.

She attempted a compromise. “Okay, but lights off.”

“Lights off? While I shower?” he scoffed. “I thought you’d put a spotlight on me if you could. You stare at me, and it is not subtle.”

“I would if you’d let me. But that’s not…” She sighed. “You saw my fall, right?”

“No.”

“Sure you did,” she said dismissively. “Even if you missed the race, the news played the clip of my accident for a week.”

He answered carefully, “The Pumpkin Hollow Gazette wrote about it, but I didn’t want to watch that happen to you. I made sure I didn’t see it.”

Zephyr couldn’t think of anyone who hadn’t seen her loss. She cleared her throat. “Well, it was bad. And I have, uh, scars.” She started babbling. “I’m supposed to put this salve on it. It was very expensive, but the goop gets under my nails and it makes me crazy—”

“I’ll put the salve on you. After. The. Shower.”

“What?”

He cupped her face in his hands, a thumb brushing her lips. “You are the most confident woman I know, and there is absolutely no reason, in this moment, that should change.” He released her, turning her around gently and grasping the zipper of her dress. “Would you like me to help you with this?”

She rasped, “Yes.” What a relief he couldn’t see her face. It gave her time to compose herself.

Her zipper dropped to her waist, cool air hitting her back as she shivered. Neil planted kisses in her hair before helping her pull the dress down and off, and he tossed it on the bathroom floor. But with more skin exposed, it just gave him more opportunities to tease her. His hands roamed along with his lips, and they moved just as carefully.

When his fingers traced her first scar, she froze. His lips followed the path he’d traced, and he repeated those kisses on every one of her scars. The sweet action caught her breath, and Zephyr turned around suddenly to face him. He pulled back an inch, concern flitting across his face until she placed both hands on his chest and shoved him into the open shower.

“Gods, woman, let me get undressed first.”

She covered her mouth but couldn’t contain her giggle. She felt silly, but that felt better. Her muscles relaxed—the bout of self-doubt gone as her laughter took its place. She let Neil step out of the shower as she slipped out of the rest of her clothes. While he undressed, she fiddled with the shower knobs. Silently, she thanked her past self for investing in a waterfall shower, though it had seemed too extravagant for the cabin.

Once the water got to the scalding temperature she preferred, she hopped in. She heard Neil undressing, and when Zephyr turned around, he was there. In the confines of the shower, standing toe to toe with him, her hands roamed his chest unabashedly while her mind spun with possibilities.

Neil placed a cloth into her hand and a bottle of soap in the other. She applied the soap to the cloth and washed his chest, eager for any excuse to keep ogling him. His chest was large in what she could only describe as a useful way. Made for actual work and not for photoshoots. It so distracted her that Neil took her cloth away to clean the rest of his body.

“Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m just a woman.”

He gave no response except a startled laugh, then finished his shower, rinsed, and immediately wrapped his arms around her. They kissed, and she melted against him as much as she could. She felt the proof that he needed her press against her stomach, and she turned away from him to lean forward. He accepted her invitation, reaching around to cup her breasts as he slid inside her.