Page 112 of We Redeemed the Rain

“Are your neck and shoulders still stiff?”

“Very. I can’t even turn my head.”

He tested the pressure on my foot, releasing ever so slowly. “Tell me if you feel it comin’ back.” He gently set my heel back on the bed. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Turn over on your stomach.”

The heat in my body shot to boiling, but I obeyed. He caught my offending leg and tucked the quilt in a wad under my ankle, so my toe wouldn’t point and cramp all over again. I shoved my hands under the pillow, wondering why he requested this. My heart thumped against the mattress as Tag moved to sit next to me. He reached up, his hands connecting with my shoulders.

A shoulder massage?Yes, please.

“This alright?”

I groaned in response, my eyes rolling back into my head as his thumbs grazed the sore spots around my spine.

Yes. Yes, a thousand times.

“Probably won’t be as good as Sarah, but at least it’s something.”

No offense to Sarah, but Tag’s massage was far better.

For a few long minutes, his hands infused life into my aching shoulders, neck, and arms. I drooled onto the pillow, dissolving into the mattress. He asked me a question, but I couldn’t even pick out the words.

He leaned closer, and a feather-light touch skimmed down my hair. His whisper was barely audible. “You awake?”

I couldn’t pull myself out of the haze enough to answer.

The mattress moved. To my delight, Tag had shifted down, stretched out, and laid his head on his folded elbow. His other hand still moved across my shoulders, meandering from one to the other, then lazily down my spine. All the way to the waistline of my pajama bottoms then back.

After a while, his hand dragged through the length of my hair. Again and again.

A couple times, his hand stopped, growing heavy against my head. Then he’d startle and drag his fingers through again.

I wanted to live in this moment for the rest of my life. His tender ministrations toward me made tears prick my eyes and leave a sliver of moisture on the pillowcase.

I laid like a statue, afraid he’d stop if I moved. I hadn’t moved in so long, he probably thought I was asleep. He lifted a strand of my hair and brought it to his face, inhaling deeply. Once and then again.

Then he…he kissed it. Kissed the end of my hair like it was treasure.

My heart almost exploded. It took everything in me not to roll to my side and wrap my arms around his neck.

This wonderful man thought he had nothing to offer anyone. Thought he didn’t need someone to hold him at night. Thought there wasn’t a single person in the world willing to put up with him.

I wanted to. I wanted to so much it hurt in my chest.

So easily, we could be best friends again. We could be even more.

Take one more chance on love, Tag. Please.

Exhaustion pulled us downward. A beautiful spiral of warmth and touch. Together, in our little cocoon, we followed sleep to its quiet place. His hand fell heavy on the back of my head.

And I let myself go.

The next morning, we woke up, arm in arm. Mine over his side, his over my hips. My head rested on his chest, his chin rested on my hair. As we stirred awake, Tag touched me, his palm meandering up a trail all the way from my thigh to the curve of my neck. His open hand pressed me in, and I arched against him with a stifled whimper—I didn’t mean to. I couldn’t help it.

He vanished, abruptly rolling away as embarrassed heat flooded my face.

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