She giggled while trying not to shake her neck. My hands slipped under her shoulder
blades, massaging gently. I told myself that I was trying to relax her muscles, but I was also exploring her silky soft skin.
There was a part of me that needed to care for her. Nurture her. Help her in any way that I
could. I needed to take her pain away and have her feel only pleasure whenever she was
with me.
I could have leaned forward and kissed those perfect pink lips. I wondered if she was
thinking the same thing, as her pretty blue eyes looked up at me upside down.
When she began moving more freely, I reluctantly pulled my hands away. She bent up slowly, and I sat beside her on the bench.
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be a bother, especially on my first day.”
“A lot of people hold all of their tension in their neck and shoulders,” I said. “You carry trays and serve food all day, so you’re often holding weight slightly in front of you. By holding your body weight at a very different angle, you’re throwing everything out of whack.”
Joanna nodded, then flashed me a curious glance. “Did I tell you that I worked as a
waitress?”
I shrugged. “Maybe you did at dinner last night. But I also skim people’s files so I know who
I’m dealing with.”
“Oh.”
“I’m not a stalker, I swear,” I grinned. Then I saw that my hand was at the back of her neck,
massaging her. I hadn’t even noticed.
“Strong hands are very handy for a sore neck,” she said quietly.
I chuckled. She didn’t seem to want me to stop touching her, so I softly stroked her skin,
my hand so comfortable under her hair as the braid bobbed behind her.
“A long time ago we had a contest with the farmhands and some guitarists, testing grip
strength by breaking up kindling. The farmers won, but I have to say, one of those
musicians gave us a run for our money.”
Joanna giggled so sweetly. Damn, I loved making her laugh. “You must have so many
artists out here all summer long,” she said. “I hope that I can keep up and earn my keep.”
Reluctantly pulling my hand away, I reached out to grab our coffee bottles, handing her one.
“You’ve already proven that you’re a hard worker,’ I said. “And you can focus. So many
people aren’t able to put their phones down for five solid minutes these days. I bet you
didn’t even bring yours, did you?”
She shook her head a tiny bit as if testing her neck. “No, just the notebook for ideas.”