‘Yeah. Got this real bad itch on my leg and I can’t reach it. Not even with a fork.’ He rests his arms against the fence beside me. ‘Fucking long-ass legs. Can’t wait to get this cast off tomorrow.’
I snort at that, but my smile falters quickly as the dull ache between my shoulder blades intensifies, like something is pulling them tightly together. I wriggle my shoulders, trying to loosen it.
‘You okay there, Blue?’
‘Yeah,’ I breathe out and turn to him, momentarily losing all sense of how to speak as I notice the way the buzzing amber porchlight illuminates all the hues of brown in his warm eyes—chestnut and caramel, and small flecks of bronze closer to his pupils. The same eyes I fell in love with all those years ago, and then ran away from …
I shake my head, ridding me of such memories. God, I must be exhausted, letting myself get carried away like that. ‘I’m just tired, but that’s the story of every single parent’s life, right?’
Sawyer presses his lips into a soft smile, but there’s a small divot that appears between his brows giving away his concern.
I try to ease the tension between my shoulders by rolling them again and even angle my neck to see if it’ll help, but it’s no use. What I need is a proper massage, which I’ve not had since before Noah was born.
‘You still tense?’ Sawyer asks, brows raised as he scans my back. Heat tingles in the wake of his gaze travelling over my body, and I’m suddenly all too aware of the thinT-shirt I’m wearing. How my nipples have pebbled in the cool midnight air, completely obvious.
I swallow. ‘Um, yeah. I should probably stop lifting Noah up all the time. He’s getting heavier now that he’s older—ain’t a little baby anymore.’
‘I can help, if you like?’ Sawyer pushes off from the fence and holds up his hands in offer. ‘I used to get a lot of massages—to help with muscle pain from riding and training.’
Words clog in my throat at the small offer. I can’t remember the last time someone offered to take care ofme. People always offer to help with Noah—to look after him so I can have time to take care of myself. But sometimes I just want someone else to take care of me, so I don’t have to do it for once. I just struggle to voice that because … well, I feel guilty. Selfish.
It would be a bad idea to let Sawyer touch me, though. As much as I try to pretend it doesn’t affect me, every small brush of his fingers or body against me has my nerves lighting up like the sky on the Fourth of July, even if I pretend it doesn’t. Even if I pretend I didn’t want him to kiss me the other night when we were sat drawing. When I felt how soft and thick that moustache of his was, wondering how it’d feel against my lips …
I find myself nodding. He’s always so eager to please, to help, and I don’t have the strength to deny him today. Not when I’ve been fighting for the last few weeks. ‘Yes, please.’
I don’t miss the way his eyes instantly brighten. He steps behind me, letting me face the views of the midnight-drenched ranch. My body already tenses from the anticipation ofhow I’ll cope with so much of his touch in one go. Maybe I should stop this before—
Sawyer brushes my loose hair over one shoulder, his fingers sliding softly against the back of my neck, sending goosebumps across my chest. Carefully, he places his hands over my shoulders, lining his thumbs up with my shoulder blades and kneads them into my flesh—my T-shirt top providing little barrier between the heat of his touch and my skin. I have to hold in the moan that wants to escape.
‘Jesus, Blue. You’re real tense.’ His breath whispers against my hair.
‘I know.’ The words come out mumbled as I relish how my shoulders instantly loosen under the reverent press of his thumbs. Relief drips like honey down my spine, warmth spreading through my body. It’s glorious—to be touched like this. So …devotedly.
‘This okay?’ he asks.
‘Yeah, it’s—’ A small whimper I’d been trying to stifle finally filters out and Sawyer sucks in a breath sharply. ‘I … I can’t remember the last time someone touched me like this.’
His hands still, and I go to protest, but then he asks, voice laced with gravel, ‘When, Blue?’
‘When, what?’
Heat radiates off him as he steps closer, his hands still on me, with his chest now brushing my back too. ‘When was the last time someonetouchedyou?’
My next breath is a gasp—because surely he doesn’t mean sexually, but … but his hands on me, his proximity, it’s dizzying.
I swallow thickly before admitting, ‘Before Noah was born.’
Sawyer curses under his breath, his hands still unmoving.
When he’s still for another few seconds, I check over my shoulder, only to catch his darkened eyes, pupils blown out. My bottom lip drops at the wildness in his stare. ‘Sawyer?’
‘That’s not right,’ he whispers, shaking his head before his gaze drops to the crook of my neck. His fingers land against the bare side of my neck, his other hand dropping to gently knead my lower back, making my eyes flutter. ‘You need to be taken care of, Blue. Can I touch you more here?’
When I nod and sayyeshe rubs his thumb over the sensitive skin, up and down twice, before unexpectedly pressing his lips there. My body lights up from the heat of his mouth, electrified to my very core as memories of the first time he ever touched me zap to the front of my mind.
I should fight this—the warmth puddling in my stomach from his touch, the way I suddenly feel eighteen again, wrapped in the embrace of the cocky bull rider. It’s only because I haven’t been touched in so long that I’m affected so easily, surely. Sawyer’s an incredibly attractive man—any woman would surely feel this way if he touched her,kissedher. Right?
Still, I can’t seem to stop my body from arching into him or my head from falling back against his shoulder as he continues to press hot kisses against my neck which thaw the tension in my body away.