Page 146 of Pink and Country

“Bubble Head, I need to get going. Plan nothing tomorrow, we’re going to the spa. My man got us two spots with hot-blooded massage therapists. Magical big hands work wonders to unknot back muscles.” She winked. “Taylor, will you be able to drive us?” Reed owned the hottest spa in town. People waited over three months to get in. Now and then, he fixed Saunders and me up with VIP treatments. We often got massages on a whim or mani-pedis.

“Sure,” Taylor said.

“Let’s say nine in the morning. We’ll relax in the hot tubs, then have lunch. Massages are from one to three in the afternoon. Taylor, Reed says you can hang out with him. Anyway, girls’ day out will last all day.”

My friends were acting like I wasn’t even around. “Guys, I’m right here, in case you forgot.”

“April, I’m not asking you if you want to go, because you’ll find a hundred reasons to refuse. You need this. You’re tense, and it’ll be good for you to relax for a few hours.” Saunders kissed me on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Taylor, would you walk me to my car, I hate thinking there might be people out there spying on us?” She shrugged, and Taylor followed her. The idea of going to the spa sent flutters down my stomach. The good kind.

Saunders was right.

I deserved a day of pampering.

* * *

“Oh, right there. Yes. Oh God, this feels good.” Big, muscular hands kneaded, rolled, and wrung my skin. I emptied my lungs in one huff as my back became the playground for the deep tissue massage.

“If I didn’t know you better, Bubble Head, I’d think you’re having an orgasm, three feet from me. Disturbing.”

Lying on my front, my laughter caught in my lungs, and it sounded more like a cough. “You brought me here, Saund. It’s all your fault. Reed is a genius for booking us a couple’s massage.”

I scrunched up my nose. From the hole in the massage table, all I could see was my therapist’s feet. When he massaged my neck, his scent reminded me of Carter. Cedarwood and pine. The candles burning around the room and massage oil diluted the smell. Thank God.

As my muscles relaxed, my brain relaxed too. The aromatherapy acted like a truth serum and untied my tongue.

“I dreamed about him last night.”

Saunders cleared her throat. “You did?”

“Yes. In my dream, I agreed to marry him, and we were having a small, intimate wedding in a barn.” I sighed and swallowed hard. The therapist kneaded my back some more, forcing me to relax even further. “It was perfect.”

“What are you saying?”

It took me a minute to straighten my thoughts. “I don’t know. I want what we had—” Strong thumbs rolled the skin of my arms and stretched my fingers. How could my hands be so tense?

“Girl, you ran away from this. Are you having second thoughts?”

“What if leaving was a mistake? What if HN was my happy ending? I should have fought for us. Did I fuck everything up?” I bit my tongue. “I drained my tears well, and my brain is now overthinking everything. This morning, I almost called him. To hear his voice. Because the sound of him is enough to fix everything broken in me.” We both remained silent for a full minute. “Forget I said anything. Please tell me to shut up, I’m being stupid. Missing him doesn’t change the gossip, the threats, the lies—”

Shivers ran along my spine, and I tensed. The therapist was massaging my feet, the same way Carter did so many times. Emotions bubbled up inside me.

“April, you’re not stupid. You’re in love.” Saunders paused. “What are you going to do? You’re in or you’re out?”

“It’s not that simple. I wish I knew—” I closed my eyes and tried to quiet my thundering heart. I inhaled, pushing my wild emotions down. I slipped my hand between my face and the headrest and dried my eyes with my fingertips.

“Okay, ladies, please, flip on your backs,” Saunders’s therapist asked us after a long moment. I clutched the white sheet tight against my chest and turned onto my back. For half a second, I blinked, adjusting my sight to the dim-lit room, but ended up closing my eyes again. I could fall asleep right here. From the head end, firm hands placed a warm cloth over my closed eyes and massaged my skull, moving to my temples, the muscles of my jaw. They drifted to my shoulders and collarbones. Saunders promised our therapists would be hot. I only caught sight of hers, and she didn’t lie. Tall, broad shoulders, olive skin, curly raven hair, full lips. He looked like an underwear model. Hopefully, mine was as good-looking—knowing Reed picked him, he must be. My massage therapist had entered the room late, and we were already facedown on the tables, the white sheet covering our legs and ass cheeks, so I didn’t catch sight of him.

Next, my therapist’s hands held the weight of my head and pushed on the pressure points at the base of my skull with his fingertips. I purred like a kitten.

Saunders snickered.

“Last time we came here for a massage, you weren’t as vocal.”

“Because it wasn’t as good as it is today.” Magic Hands knew exactly what my body needed. He pinpointed every knot and transformed them into mush.

Soft and warm lips brushed my forehead from above, and I startled. What the—? Did I just imagine this? I steeled my back. Then the therapist slid his hands down my arms and laced our fingers. I held my breath. His lips grazed mine. From above.

I sprang to a seated position and opened my eyes, the washcloth landing on my thighs. My heart banged inside my chest.