Page 33 of The Good Guy on My Porch

She lifted the book in her hands. “This is my spa.”

She looked so much happier than yesterday, I was in no mood to argue with her. “Fair enough. But if you ever change your mind, you should come by. I’ll give you the friends and family discount.”

“I already owe you for helping out with Buddy.”

I rubbed Buddy’s head between his ears and he looked up at me, tongue hanging out, eyes merry. “You don’t owe me anything.”

She closed her book and put it on the porch behind her. “How was the rest of your day? What do you do at a salt spa, anyway?”

“I lead the meditation class and work the front desk or hide in my office with paperwork.”

“So, people just come in and sit among the salt crystals? You don’t sing to them or anything?”

I laughed. “I’d be out of business if I tried that. The idea is that they’re there to relax. We offer massage and yoga, but I’m not qualified to do those myself, yet.”

“How’s school going?”

“Pretty good. I need some guinea pigs for my massage techniques, though. Oddly, my friends aren’t lining up to let me try out my skills.”

“Why not?” She stretched, arms overhead, letting her eyes drift closed and making a sound that sent all my blood flowing south. “There’s nothing better than a good massage.”

She dropped her arms and opened her eyes. I schooled my expression and shifted on the porch, trying to keep all the sexy, naked thoughts I’d just had invisible to her gaze. “Good is the operative word,” I said. “I think they’re afraid.”

“Even Molly?” she asked, an odd look on her face.

I smiled. “She hates massages.”

Her eyebrows popped high. “No one hates massages.”

“When they’re as ticklish as she is, they do. I can just wiggle my fingers and she doubles over.” I shook my head. “I’ve never met anyone as ticklish as she is.”

Dilly cleared her throat, her expression tight. “Well, you can practice on me anytime. I adore a massage, even an average one.”

I froze as images of Dilly’s bare skin and my hands on her fired through my brain. If she made sounds like she did when she stretched…No. Just no. There was no way I wouldn’t make a complete idiot of myself and give away my attraction to her. I couldn’t possibly…

“I mean, if you’re looking for a massage guinea pig…” She said, looking unsure. “Molly might not like—”

“It would be great,” I said, because refusing would be weirder. “Thank you. We’re learning some new techniques now, so maybe…Next week, sometime?”

Her face lit up and I knew I’d made the right choice. It would likely kill me, but I refused to be someone in her life who did anything but make her smile. “That would be great.” She stared out at the mountains for a long moment, just breathing. I watched the side of her face, not realizing I was staring until she turned to look at me with a hesitant smile. “Do you still want to see that play on Sunday? I understand if Molly might have a problem with it, so please don’t feel bad if you want to cancel.”

Honestly, I’d forgotten all about the play, but it was kind of her to be worried about Molly. Since our talk, Molly had seemed more like herself, but I was still concerned about the dark circles under her eyes and her frown whenever I wasn’t looking. “Molly’s fine staying here. She doesn’t really want to go anywhere right now. Are you sure your boyfriend will be okay with it?”

She jerked her gaze from mine and looked back at the mountains. I had the worst feeling about that guy, and I was almost certain it was more than abject jealousy that caused the feeling.

“He’s working on Sunday,” she said. “He’s totally fine with it.”

“Working on a Sunday? What’s he do?”

She scrunched her nose, still staring at the mountains. “Church,” she said, the word bursting from her. Her eyes widened, and she frowned. “He’s a minister, pastor…” She waved her hand. “Whatever you call it.”

I just stared, beyond shocked. I had imagined this guy as some sort of raging, jealous, paranoid meat head. Not to say that everyone who worked in a church was good people, but it certainly changed what I’d imagined about the guy. “Wow,” I said. “That’s great.”

She turned to me, looking a bit panicked. “It really is. He’s a very giving, kind person, of course.” She giggled. “Part of the job.”

“Right.” I was finding it a touch more difficult to hate the guy. I still hated him, just infinitesimally less than a few moments before. “Does he work at a church in town?”

She stretched and yawned. “I think I’ll just take Buddy for a quick walk before it starts to get dark. Want to come with?”

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