Summer Love in the Country (Summer Instalove)

She giggled while trying not to shake her neck. My hands slipped under her shoulder

blades, massaging gently. I told myself that I was trying to relax her muscles, but I was also exploring her silky soft skin.

There was a part of me that needed to care for her. Nurture her. Help her in any way that I

could. I needed to take her pain away and have her feel only pleasure whenever she was

with me.

I could have leaned forward and kissed those perfect pink lips. I wondered if she was

thinking the same thing, as her pretty blue eyes looked up at me upside down.

When she began moving more freely, I reluctantly pulled my hands away. She bent up slowly, and I sat beside her on the bench.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be a bother, especially on my first day.”

“A lot of people hold all of their tension in their neck and shoulders,” I said. “You carry trays and serve food all day, so you’re often holding weight slightly in front of you. By holding your body weight at a very different angle, you’re throwing everything out of whack.”

Joanna nodded, then flashed me a curious glance. “Did I tell you that I worked as a

waitress?”

I shrugged. “Maybe you did at dinner last night. But I also skim people’s files so I know who

I’m dealing with.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not a stalker, I swear,” I grinned. Then I saw that my hand was at the back of her neck,

massaging her. I hadn’t even noticed.

“Strong hands are very handy for a sore neck,” she said quietly.

I chuckled. She didn’t seem to want me to stop touching her, so I softly stroked her skin,

my hand so comfortable under her hair as the braid bobbed behind her.

“A long time ago we had a contest with the farmhands and some guitarists, testing grip

strength by breaking up kindling. The farmers won, but I have to say, one of those

musicians gave us a run for our money.”

Joanna giggled so sweetly. Damn, I loved making her laugh. “You must have so many

artists out here all summer long,” she said. “I hope that I can keep up and earn my keep.”

Reluctantly pulling my hand away, I reached out to grab our coffee bottles, handing her one.

“You’ve already proven that you’re a hard worker,’ I said. “And you can focus. So many

people aren’t able to put their phones down for five solid minutes these days. I bet you

didn’t even bring yours, did you?”

She shook her head a tiny bit as if testing her neck. “No, just the notebook for ideas.”