A Mother's Homecoming(60)
“Did you hurt yourself?” Even as he asked, he was scanning her, presumably for wounds, although she didn’t think her sore muscles were visible.
“Don’t laugh, but I was excited about tonight—” “You weren’t the only one,” he assured her. “And I was trying to keep myself really busy. You know, to make it get here faster, like going to sleep early on Christmas Eve. I may have overdone it.” Her efforts had paid off at the house, which was starting to really resemble something people would pay money to live in, but she hadn’t exactly kept her body in top physical shape over the past decade.
Nick brightened. “I think I can help.” “I don’t think I can take another ibuprofen yet.” “No, what I had in mind is way better than painkillers. You trust me, right?”
More than anyone I’ve ever known. “Sure.” He had hopped off the stool and was carrying their plates to the sink. “What you need is a trip to the Shepard Spa.”
“Sounds promising. You guys have a hot tub I don’t know about?”
“Nope. I just need a few minutes to get things set up.” He took her by the hand. “Here, you come with me.” They went in to a small den, which had a much smaller television set than the main living room. He pointed the remote at it. “Can you find something to watch?”
“I guess.” As if she were going to concentrate on a few minutes of TV? She’d be too curious about what he was doing.
“Ten minutes, max,” he promised. “You stay put.” Then he shut the door and was gone.
Pam wiggled her bare toes in happy anticipation.
He opened the door again a few minutes later. “All set.”
They returned to the living room, and Pam saw that he’d been busy. The only illumination in the room was assorted candles burning on the fireplace mantel and the coffee table. Instrumental music played softly in the background. And he’d scooted back some of the smaller pieces of furniture to make a clearing in the floor. A pallet of sheets and blankets awaited, with one pristine white bedsheet still neatly folded on top.
“You’ve had massages before, right?” Nick asked. “I’ll just duck out of the room while you undress, only as far as you’re comfortable, cover up with the sheet and let me know when you’re ready.”
She turned to him with a smirk. “I’ll give you this, Nicholas Shepard, your ploys to get me out of my clothes have gotten classier.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet. It gets better,” he promised. “I just have to go in the kitchen for one final thing. Call me when you’re ready.”
“Okay.” Watching him walk away, she experienced one small moment of shyness. This man had known every inch of her body when she was in peak physical condition.
Then again, he’d seen firsthand what she’d looked like pregnant and that hadn’t dimmed his ardor for her. She slipped her dress over her head then paused, considering. Should she leave on the rest? Just remove her bra?
Deciding to go for it, she quickly peeled off all of her clothes before she could change her mind, folding the lacy undergarments inside her dress. Then she laid down on her stomach and stretched the extra sheet over her. “Okay!” Ready as I’ll ever be.
When Nick came back, he was barefoot and had removed his button-down shirt, leaving him in pants and a white T-shirt. “I don’t have any body oil,” he said as he sat next to her, “but I think you’ll like this.”
He held his hand several inches above her back, and something cool and feathery hit her skin.
“What is that?” she murmured. It felt like powdered silk as he began to trace it over her in light circles.
“Corn starch.”
She’d never realized how soft it was. “Mmm. Nice.”
She closed her eyes. There was a perfect balance between the strength in Nick’s strong hands and the gentleness of his touch as he ran his fingers over her skin. He gradually applied more and more pressure until her knotted muscles were pliant and warm.
He also, very gradually, started to make larger circles as he traveled up and down her back, dipping below the base of her spine, toward the curve of her butt, then making his way back up, kneading his thumbs and the heels of his palms against her. When he reached the tops of her shoulders, he let his hands skim down over her sides, toward her chest. But just when she thought he would take it further, that the body-melting massage would morph into something else, he’d start the slow journey to the center of her back again.