Love Game

Daisy smiled softly. “Are you comfortable with me touching you?”

“That’s a loaded question,” I said from behind closed lids. “But yes. Fine. Do what you have to do.”

“Okay, then,” Daisy said, her voice low and soft. She was so near to me I could hear the rustle of her dress and the soft inhale/exhale of her breathing. And despite trying to keep my guard up, I found myself relaxing into the table as if I were sinking into it.

You’re tired after a hard workout. That’s all.

I felt her soft hands on my right elbow, and the stiffness that always lurked in it began to unravel under her touch. Warmth filled the joints. Daisy said nothing. Made no sounds at all but for her breath, and my bones felt like they were melting; every bit of tension leaving my body.

Coincidence. Or the power of suggestion. This silly business isn’t working…

But instead of letting the thoughts natter on, breaking the peace with endless commentary, I shut them the hell up and just listened to the birdsong of the islands, the wind moving the wind chimes over the lanai, and Daisy’s breathing that brought the clean, earthy scents of her to me w

ith every exhale.

I don’t know how long I lay there, but eventually her hands left my arm, and the relaxation was deepening to sleep. I didn’t want to slip away from the peace. A peace I hadn’t felt in years. Not since Dad collapsed…

I opened my eyes to take a peek, expecting to see Daisy’s hands somewhere near my elbow. Her eyes were closed, brows furrowed slightly, but her hands were over my chest, folded, one on top of the other.

Over my heart.

The energy will go wherever there is pain.

“What are you doing?” I barked, shattering the peace and quiet.

Her eyes flared open and she yanked her hands back at my sharp tone. “Yes, but—”

“I don’t know what Jason told you, but this is supposed to be elbow rehab. You’re not getting in my head.”

Or anywhere else.

“I was just—”

“Forget it.” I sat up and swung my legs over the side. “Thanks for the nap.”

I headed to the tennis courts without looking back. I needed to whack something. Hard. I expected (wanted?) Daisy to call after me, but she let me go.

“Stupid bloody Reiki,” I muttered. “Jason is wasting his money.”

My practice partner wasn’t due until later in the afternoon, so—still muttering under my breath—I picked up one of the practice rackets, rolled a cart full of balls to the baseline, and started hitting serves. I steadfastly ignored the fact that my elbow felt looser and less achy than it had in months.

Or that for the first time in ten years, my heart did too.

The grief I’d been holding on to so tightly was in danger of slipping out. It would run rampant and wild, out of my control, and turn me into a sniveling weakling. No, thanks. Better to burn it up in anger. Channel it on the court. Direct it at the idiots and umps and racist arseholes who deserved it.

And if you get kicked out of tennis?

I ignored that and whacked a serve, fighting the urge to look over my shoulder to see if Daisy had given up on me for the day. Determined not to care if she had.

But she appeared at the gate of the court, and though my face hardened into a scowl, something deep inside me sighed with relief.

Daisy

I watched Kai get up and leave, and part of me wanted to retreat into the guesthouse and try again tomorrow morning. But the richness of said guesthouse, the beauty of my surroundings—not to mention the money Jason put in my bank account—said I needed to try again.

And I didn’t want to give up on Kai. I wasn’t going to let him walk all over me, but if the Reiki had shown me anything, it was that he was in pain. It was bunched up like a closed fist in his heart. If I could get him to let it go…

I went around the pool and opened the gate to the tennis court where Kai was slamming serves down an imaginary opponent’s throat.