“Nope. I wanted to see the stars tonight.”
Hm, definitely more to her than he’d originally thought.
He watched her gingerly lower herself onto the ground. Her quickly masked grimace prompted him to reach into his own pack.
Once his hand closed around the cool bottle of liniment, he second-guessed the wisdom of what he was about to suggest and instead set up his own sleeping arrangements. Mat, then sleeping bag, and saddle at the head to lean against until he turned in for the night.
Darkness had fallen, deepening the nighttime chill, but it wasn’t nearly as cold as the previous weekend. It didn’t take long for the hard ground to register as he sat facing the fire, even with the cushion of his mat. After a silent sigh of resignation, he pulled out the liniment.
“I keep this for Nobel, but it’ll work for you if you want me to rub some on your back.”
Her gaze fixed on the bottle in his hand. His heartbeat increased tempo at the thought of her accepting his offer, and he prayed she’d refuse.
Chapter 14
Joel’s hands on her bare skin was a very dangerous proposition. Other than his sudden clam-up a few minutes ago, he’d been nice today. Less arrogant, more human. A guy she could easily like, which meant she shoul
dn’t even hesitate to say NO.
Yet, the rough ride up would be just as tough on the way down. Worse if her back stiffened after a night on the hard ground. She’d be stupid to turn down any help he offered. A surge of anticipation told her she was just as stupid to accept…
“The ibuprofen took the edge off.”
“And the next eight hours on the ground will put it back and then some.”
“I know.” She lifted her gaze. “I guess, if you really don’t mind?”
He motioned for her to turn around. She eased her jacket off and turned her back to him as he kneeled on her sleeping bag.
“Where does it hurt?” he asked.
“My lower back, up into the middle.”
“You’re going to need to lie down, and, um…probably take your shirt off.”
The low timbre of his voice flipped her stomach end over end. He was right, though it didn’t calm her pulse when he helped her remove her zip-up hooded sweatshirt. Her shaky fingers unbuttoned the shirt underneath to allow him freedom to push it up. Without taking it off, she carefully maneuvered until she could stretch out on her stomach. She trusted him, but that was going to have to be good enough.
Her heart pounded as his thigh brushed her hip. He pushed the soft flannel material up her back, and she shivered as the night air whispered over her skin. The rasp of his palms rubbing together reached her ears, then the strong scent of spearmint inundated her senses. Her shallow breaths weren’t taking in near enough oxygen to calm her racing heart, so she concentrated on extending each inhale.
With the first brush of his warm fingers, she flinched. Cold air replaced the heat of his hands.
“Did that hurt? I barely touched you.”
“Your hands are cold.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Then, even the white lie made her feel bad. “It’s fine.”
The second touch of his hands spread the ointment from the base of her back along her jeans, up to her shoulder blades. Tingles spread along her skin as heat flooded her body.
“I’m not pressing too hard, am I?”
“No, it’s good.”
Better than good, his hands felt like magic as he kneaded the sore, strained muscles. Five minutes or so into the massage, she’d swear her bones were melting. The liniment had softened his work-rough palms and his firm manipulations eased the pain so skillfully, a low, appreciative groan slipped from between her lips.
When the sound registered, mortification left a hot sting in its wake. God, that had sounded like she was aroused. She was, but certainly didn’t want him to know.