Page 111 of We Redeemed the Rain

“I know. Shh. Focus on breathin’ deep.”

I took shaky, deep breaths as he prompted.

After a few, quiet moments, I relaxed and Tag slowly released the pressure on my toes. Instantly, the cramp came back and I tensed again, cussing.

“This one’s gonna be stubborn.” He pushed my foot back, whispering, “We’ll wait it out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to apologize for. You drinkin’ enough?”

“I thought I was.”

“More today. I want you startin’ the day with those electrolytes we bought.”

“Yes, coach.”

His soft chuckle put a smile on my face.

“My calf muscle is pulsing.”

“I bet.” While one hand held my foot, the other slid up my ankle and to my calf. He kneaded the tender muscle, his thumb gently digging into my flesh. Goosebumps rippled down my arms as I grunted.

“That feels bad?”

I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity.On the contrary, cowboy.“It’s fine.”

I peeked my eyes open and instantly wished I’d kept them closed. The eyeful I received was a mental image I definitely did not need in my memory bank.

Shirtless Tag, kneeling on the semi mattress, was leaning down because of the overhead shelves. Basically, leaningoverme. My eyes were adjusted enough to the dark gray interior of the semi to see his forearm gently twitching as he worked on my calf. His hair was adorably disheveled, the waistband of his shorts a bit low on his hips.

Heat rushed through my veins like a warm intravenous drip.

Good gracious.

I remembered Jackie’s stupid picture request. A week into my stay she realized I wasn’t going to deliver and settled for an IOU. She wouldloveevery juicy detail of a moment like this.

“You stopped breathin’. Come on.”

Um, hello, I’m trying?If he would back the heck up, it would be a smidge easier.

I closed my eyes to block him out, but it was no use. He was seared into my memory forever. So I opened them again, might as well.

I took on a facetious tone. “You know, myentirebody is hurting. Not just my calf muscle.”

He chuckled again, his head dropping down a little.So close.

“Sorry, Bea. I’m not a masseuse.”

“Peter’s fiance, Sarah, is.”

“Lucky man.”

I laughed then. “She’s rubbed my neck before.”

“Amazing?”

“She has some skills, definitely.”

---