Page 27 of Treat Her Right

“Well, thank you, Mother, for your concern.”

“Wynn, I know you’re excited about your new house—”

“And my new neighbor? My new neighbor who likes to tease and lead women on, then pull away and act as if his finer sensibilities have been lacerated by my coarse and carnal behavior?”

Zack was again caught between wanting to shout with anger, and the urge to laugh. From the moment he’d met her, Wynn Lane had been too outspoken and honest for her, or his, own good. He rubbed his neck and concentrated on not smiling. “I didn’t mean to tease.”

“Oh? You call what you did—given the fact you pulled up short—fulfillment?” She shook her head. “You poor, poor man. You’re missing the best part.”

“Look, Wynn, it was a mistake for us to do—” He gestured at the ground. “—this. I don’t know about you, but I’m not in the habit of indulging in one-night flings.”

She didn’t confirm or deny what her habits were, which only made him edgier. Little by little his neck and shoulder muscles tightened into a painful cramp. He’d strained something at work the night before, and arguing with Wynn only exasperated things.

Her eyes narrowed and she strode toward him. “What’s the matter with you? Did I hurt you?”

His hand fell away from his neck. “Of course not.”

“Ha! You’re in pain, I can tell.”

He started to sayshewas the pain, but held it in. It was past time he listened to himself. They were neighbors, no refuting that fact. They needed to get along in some civil but distant and detached way.

With that decision made, he waited until she stopped directly in front of him, then explained, “I dealt with two pretty nasty emergencies last night. The first was a case of domestic violence.” His tone sounded raw even to his own ears, but the emotional devastation of the night still lingered. “I took a woman in with two broken ribs and multiple contusions. The bastard who’d worked her over had gone to a bar. Luckily the cops caught up to him there.”

Zack had to be grateful that the man had been gone when he got there. He wasn’t at all certain he could have contained himself otherwise.

Wynn, evidently sensing his turbulent emotions, reached out and smoothed her hand over his arm. It was a soothing touch, and it helped him to recall himself.

He shook off his lingering anger and reminded himself that the woman had pressed charges. That wasn’t always the case, but luckily this particular woman had had enough. He’d left her in the hands of the social services.

“Then there was a car wreck. We had to cut the door away to get to the woman inside. She was in shock, covered in blood from a head wound, and getting her out wasn’t easy, especially since she wasn’t exactly a small woman.”

“She was big like me?”

Zack’s temper jumped a notch. “I could handle you easily without straining a thing.”

She smirked.

“No, this woman was obese.” Wynn remained quiet and waiting so he continued. “The reach was awkward, and I strained something in my neck and shoulders when I lifted her out.”

“Hmmm. Sounds like you strained a trap. That happens a lot in clumsy lifts. Turn around.”

He stalled. “What?”

“Trapezius muscle,” she explained.

And Zack said, “I know what it is. I just didn’t…”

Grabbing his upper arm, she forcibly turned him—something he allowed—and then began pressing her fingers into his neck, his shoulders, his spine. Zack groaned. Her touch had an electrifying effect that both soothed and excited.

“Right there?” she asked, her thumbs now working some hidden muscle that reacted by going limp.

“Yeah.” And then, “You’re good at this.”

“I’m good at a lot of things.”

His eyes shot open.

“Have you been using any moist heat?”

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