Page 41 of Mountain Man’s Mystic Touch

After she relaxes face down beneath the sheet, I begin with light pressure across her upper back. Her muscles soften readily beneath my hands. She is accustomed to touch and does not treat relaxation as a loss of control.

“You’re very good at this,” Delaney says from the headrest.

“Thank you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“People usually comment on the crystals first.”

“The crystals aren’t loosening the knot beneath my shoulder blade.”

“Some people would disagree.”

“Mason would probably challenge them to prove it.”

Her affection warms the words, even with her face lowered into the headrest.

“He notices when you’re hurting?” I ask.

“Before I admit it.” She pauses. “It used to make me defensive.”

“Why?”

“Because I spent years knowing exactly what people saw when they looked at me. I became very good at controlling the image.” Her shoulders loosen beneath my hands. “Mason notices things I’m not trying to show.”

“That sounds uncomfortable.”

“It was. Sometimes it still is.”

“What changed?”

“I realized being noticed isn’t the same as being judged.”

My hands slow briefly before I continue along the tight muscle beside her shoulder blade.

Being noticed isn’t the same as being judged.

The words lodge somewhere inside that I am not prepared to examine.

The conversation fades as Delaney relaxes. Outside the screens, Chloe speaks with a customer about one of the candles. Festival music moves through the trees, accompanied by footsteps, children’s laughter, and the occasional announcement from the main stage.

For a while, the restlessness beneath the festival disappears.

I finish the session with gentle pressure across Delaney’s shoulders, then step outside while she dresses. Chloe has purchased two candles, a bottle of grounding oil, and a smoky quartz cluster large enough to require both hands.

“Jack will say I bought a rock,” she tells me.

“He may.”

“Is there an official response?”

“Tell him it is a protective mineral specimen selected for the energetic integrity of your shared property.”

Chloe nods. “That should end the conversation.”

“It may begin another one.”

The privacy screen opens. Delaney emerges, rolling her shoulders with obvious relief.