tomorrow.”
He didn’t respond, which was for the better, so she kept at her slow and steady pace until she’d pushed through the door into the outside. Late-morning sun warmed the top of her head and her shoulders. She breathed in the bordering-on-cool air and tried to release the tension in her muscles, the slight ball of nausea circulating in her stomach, tried desperately to locate that seed of peace that would, once found, grow into a sturdy, towering oak.
No luck. Not yet, anyhow, but maybe tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, hell, in a month or two. She’d get there. She had to.
Sighing, Andi eased herself onto one of the high-seated wooden benches scattered along the smooth stone porch surrounding the lower level of the house and called her aunt, who had dropped her off a little over an hour ago. Margaret had decided to run some errands while Andi did her thing here. She’d offered her the use of her car, but, while Andi had driven once since being given the go-ahead to do so, she still wasn’t comfortable with the idea. Her weakened leg worried her, especially here, in a location where she hadn’t spent her entire life and did not know the roads, the landmarks or...anything, really.
Yet another goal, one more activity she used to take for granted. Add that to her past ability to sleep fully and soundly pretty much every night, her confidence in herself and, yes, even her place in the world.
Closing her eyes, she sighed again. Truth was, she now knew to never, ever again, take anything in life—from the simple to the complex—for granted.
“That was excellent work today,” Ryan said to Andi the next morning. She’d arrived on time, prepared and—seemingly, anyway—focused. Her refusal yesterday had surprised him. Concerned him some, too, but today proved that on the physical rehabilitation front, her determination was as solid as she’d claimed. He’d put her through the ropes, pushed her a mite harder than he’d even planned, and she hadn’t complained once. “I’m impressed.”
As to the rest of her rehabilitation, well...he had gained enough experience over the years to know that once they’d worked together for a while, she’d let certain truths slip. Maybe on purpose, maybe by accident, but eventually, he’d learn more about her sleeping habits, her thoughts, how she generally coped in her everyday world. And once he had some idea of those facts, he’d have a much stronger sense of the complete picture. Of how to help, what she needed.
Of what he could do to strengthen more than just her leg.
Shoving a long chunk of damp auburn hair to the side, she fixed her brown-eyed gaze on him and a small, tentative smile appeared. “Thank you. I think. Tonight, I might be cursing you.”
“That’s normal. I’d be...shocked if you didn’t. We’ll take it a little easier next time. Today,” he said with a wink, “I wanted to see what you were made of.”
She winked back, which came as a nice surprise. It also served as a glimpse—a tiny one, without doubt—of the woman beneath the trauma. The woman she’d once been. Her lips twitched into just about the cutest damn grin Ryan had ever seen before she said, “That’s an easy question to answer. I’m made of steel. And now, some plates and screws, not to mention a few intramedullary nails. I think I’m still more human than robot, though!”
In this moment, in addition to the exhaustion, she appeared soft and female, warm and lovely, and a hot wash of attraction suddenly kicked him straight in his gut. Hard and fast and...unexpected. He just hadn’t felt that for anyone since Leah. Hadn’t wanted to, either.
The fact that he had, out of the blue, for this woman he’d just met—one of his clients, no less—seemed dangerous. Interest lurked there, too. Curiosity. A desire to know more, to investigate and see if his body already knew something his brain hadn’t yet locked into.
“Definitely more human than robot,” he said, holding his hands out toward her. “Come on now, let’s get you up and over to the table so I can massage out the kinks.”
Grasping her hands, he helped her stand, making sure he supported her weight until she’d found stability. With his arm around her waist so she wouldn’t require her cane, they walked across the room to the massage table. And every step of the way, that buzz in his gut grew stronger and more persistent. More insistent that he needed to pay close attention to this woman.
Ryan shook off the sensation and, once Andrea was situated properly, rolled the loose band of her shorts up so he could start at her thigh. “Talk to me,” he said as he gently kneaded his fingers into the damaged muscle, knowing even this would cause some discomfort, if not outright pain. “Tell me anything you want. Trivial or important. Just talk, makes this go faster.”
Silence enveloped the room, and for a minute Ryan doubted she’d play along. But then, she said, “My aunt is having a barbecue get-together thing on Saturday to welcome me. My cousins and their spouses, kids, will all be there. And all told, there’s a lot of them. I don’t know my cousins very well. I mean, we’re Facebook friends. But...a lot of people. A lot of talking. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.” A small, whispery sigh emerged. “Seems pointless.”
“What does? The food? Spending time with family?” Ryan had a strong idea of what she meant, but he wanted to see if she’d explain, if she’d let him in that much. “Or maybe you just have a problem with delicious grilled meats and vegetables?”
She laughed and, oh, what a sound. Joyful and spontaneous and...real. Or so Ryan thought, anyway. “I’m actually quite the fan of grilled anything. It’s the...questions, I guess. The constant well-meaning questions about what happened, how I’m feeling, and with so many people there, I’ll likely have to repeat the same answers a dozen times.”
“Make it simple,” he said, moving his hands down her leg, applying pressure in gentle yet firm increments as he did. If she winced or showed any sign of too much discomfort, he lightened the pressure. “Just say you’d rather not talk about the incident, but you’re feeling stronger every day. Or whatever word you’d prefer. Better. Healthier. Happier. Take your pick. I doubt your family will insist on more explanation than you’re willing to give.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know them well enough to say.”
“Invite me, then,” Ryan said. Hmm. Where had that come from? He didn’t know, hadn’t pre-thought the idea out, but it settled nice enough. “I also happen to be a fan of grilled anything and better yet, I can act as your buffer. Folks will be too curious about me to ask questions.”
“Really? You’d do that?” As she spoke, she pulled herself to a sitting position. That was fine, he’d done enough for the moment. Her muscles needed to rest some now. “Must be for the food, because I can’t imagine this is a service you offer all of your clients.”
“No,” he said, wiping his hands on a towel, “acting as a buffer is not a service I typically offer. And it isn’t about the food, as good as it will be, I’m sure.”
“Then...why?”
“Why ask why?” he said, not sure of the answer himself. Other than he wanted to be there, at Andi’s side. Pay attention to his instincts. “Just accept and...invite me to the darn barbecue already. I have Saturday free, surprisingly, which is somewhat unusual as of late.”
“You need to tell me why,” she said, her voice and shoulders firm. “Because I’m not a...a charity case, and while
