Forever in Love (Montana Brides) (16 page)

His mom’s gaze dropped to his shoulders. “You hurt yourself on the four-wheeler, didn’t you?”

“I’m fine.”

Her scowl made him squirm in his socks.
 

“I’ll put your lunch in the microwave. Your father’s fallen asleep in his chair.”

“Can you give me thirty minutes? I need a shower.”

She pressed her lips together. “Come back to the kitchen when you’re done, but don’t go crashing and banging around the house. Catherine’s asleep in her cot.”

Matthew pushed his boots off. “Where’s Amy?”

“In the kitchen with me.”

“Is she making apple pie?”
 

“That stomach of yours is a bottomless pit, Matthew Gray. When you’ve hung that jacket up you can come and raid the pantry.” She looked down at his hands. “After the grease and oil has been washed off.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He ran down the hallway, skidding on the wooden floor as he rounded the corner to the downstairs bathroom.

Nathan turned to follow his brother.

“Not so fast. How bad is the pain?”

“I’ll take some pills when I get out of the shower.”

“You can take them now. Where did you put them?”

His mom’s face had set in a determined scowl. He knew that look and she wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d had his damn pills. “I’ll get them.”

He walked across to the hooks on the wall and rummaged through his jacket pockets. His painkillers were like horse pills; big, brown and hard to swallow. Even with a gallon of water following them down, they stuck like glue to his throat.
 

His mom followed him into the kitchen, watching him every step of the way.
 

Amy had his dad’s crossword book open in front of her, a pen tapping against her chin. “What’s an eight letter word that means neutral? It’s something, something, B?”

“Unbiased,” he said.

Amy shook her head. “Why didn’t I think of that?” She scribbled down the letters, then stared at the next clue, scribbling a bit more.

Nathan headed across to the faucet and grabbed a clean glass out of the dishwasher. The pills washed down as bad as he knew they would.
 

“You need to eat something with those things,” Amy said.

Nathan looked across at the table. She hadn’t moved. Her head was still bent over the crossword. “How do you know what I’m taking?”

“I saw the bottle a couple of weeks ago. Now I’m looking for a nine letter word that means stubborn. Starts with O.” Her mouth tilted into a smile.

“Obnoxious.”

“Wrong.” Amy looked up, her brown eyes glowing with mischief. “Try again.”

His mom opened the fridge and pulled out a loaf of bread. “I’ll make you a sandwich before you head to the shower, Nathan. Sit down and don’t annoy Amy.”

“She can look after herself, mom. And you’ve got it the wrong way around. She’s the one annoying me.”

“On second thoughts, obnoxious fits perfectly.”
 

The sweet smile on Amy’s face made him forget about the pain in his back. Until he tried to sit down.

Amy dropped her pen and started to get up.

“Leave it. I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, how’s the pain?”

Nathan tried to relax his back but his muscles twisted into knots so tight that his eyes burned. “I gave up counting when I left school.”

“Don’t be smart. Answer the question.” His mom put a sandwich in front of him and stood beside the table with her hands on her hips.

“Seven,” he huffed.

Amy raised her eyebrows.

“Maybe eight.” His back cramped. He groaned before he caught the sound.

Amy pushed his sandwich in front of him. “Eat, and then someone can help you get into the shower.”

“Like hell,” he roared.

“Shh. Catherine and your dad are asleep.”

 
“What’s going on in here?” Matthew made a bee-line for the pantry. “Sounds like Nathan’s not getting his own way again.”

 
“Matthew can give you a hand to get in the shower.” Amy picked up her pen. “Someone needs to help you out of your clothes.”
 

“Eww. Do I really need to see him naked?” Matthew smiled around a mouthful of muffin.

Nathan grabbed the sandwich and shoved half of it into his mouth. He glared around the room. No one took any notice. Amy had gone back to her crossword puzzle. His mom had disappeared behind the fridge door and his brother had found a stash of biscuits. “I’ll be back soon. And I’m locking the bathroom door.”

“Way to go, bro’.” Matthew raised a handful of biscuits in a mock salute. “Just don’t slip otherwise I’ll have to knock down a perfectly good door.”

He pulled himself out of his chair, stuffing the rest of his sandwich in his mouth before he groaned, and ended up with his whole family in the bathroom.
 

By the time he’d finished in the shower, everyone had moved into the front lounge. And everyone watched him as he crossed the room and sat on one of the chairs. “I’m fine.”

Amy put down the magazine she’d been reading. “Did the hospital give you any moisturizer to rub into your skin?”

“Why?”
 

“I’ll massage it into you back. It might help relax your muscles.”

Amy’s hands weren’t getting anywhere near his body. He didn’t have any problem rubbing the sticky white cream into his skin twice a day to keep the grafts soft and supple.
 
And to stop the itchiness that made him half-crazy. “I’ve already put some on.”

His dad peered at him over the top of his glasses. “Let her help, son. It might take some of the pain away.”
 

Amy stood up and held out her hand. “Come on. We can go into the kitchen.”

Everyone looked as though they were ganging up on him. His dad kept peering at him without blinking. His mom’s mouth had set in a straight line and his brother had a giant smirk plastered across his face. “Fine. But I’m going home soon.” Amy’s hand was still dangling in front of him. “I can get out of the chair on my own.”

“Okay, Mr. Independent. I’ll follow you.”

He glared at his family, then hauled himself upright. He felt like an old man. Every joint and muscle groaned under the strain of carrying over six feet of muscle and bone around.
 

Amy followed him out of the lounge, her feet barely making a sound on the wooden floors. She pulled a kitchen chair out from the table and waved him toward it. “Where’s the cream?”

“We don’t need cream. You can massage my back over the top of my shirt.”
 

“Tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m serious. My shirt stays on my back.”

Amy crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring at him with a determined gleam in her eyes. If he’d been more of a gentleman he wouldn’t have noticed the way her sweater pulled tight over her breasts, or the way a loose strand of hair curled around the side of her neck. The same neck he’d nibbled on too many weeks ago.
 

But he didn’t feel the least bit gentlemanly. His whole body hurt so damn much that no one’s hands could possibly help what a giant dose of painkillers hadn’t been able to cure.

 
The gleam in Amy’s eyes turned stubborn. “I know you don’t want me to see your back, but I’m not massaging you through cotton. The shirt comes off.”

“Not today it doesn’t.”

“Really? And what are you going to tell your mom when she asks how your non-existent massage went?”

“Moving away from Montana hasn’t done you any good. You’ve turned into a bossy vixen.”

“You’re such a sweet talker. It’s a wonder you haven’t got a horde of women lined up waiting for you. Now where’s the cream?”

He tried giving her his most ferocious scowl. She smiled sweetly back at him. “Fine, I’ll get it.” He walked across to his mom’s pantry and handed Amy the tub of moisturizer.
 

“Don’t look so worried, Nathan. I’ll be gentle. Now take your shirt off and straddle the chair.”

He looked at the chair, then at her. “You’re not going to like what you see.”

Amy’s face softened. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen more than one male body in my career.”
 

“This isn’t a good idea.” She ignored him, unscrewing the lid and dipping her fingers into the heavy duty moisturizer. He gazed at her hands warily, watching her rub the cream across her palms. “My back’s a mess.”

“Stop stalling, Nathan. Do you want to undo your shirt or do you need help?”

He took a deep breath. Amy didn’t seem worried about seeing his scars. If anything she looked downright bored with the whole conversation. He sat in the chair and pulled the bottom of his shirt clear of his jeans, glaring at the frown on her face.
 

The domes of each fastening pulled open with a tug. He wouldn’t admit to her how difficult he found undoing a button-down shirt, and how impossible it was to get in and out of a t-shirt.
 

He slipped the shirt down his arms. Even though he tried to move his right shoulder as little as possible, a stab of pain hit every muscle in his back. He’d overdone everything today. Pushed his body beyond its limits and now he was paying the price.
 

He focused on the old wooden table, not wanting to see the pity on Amy’s face when she saw his body.
 

 
She moved around the chair, standing behind him, not saying anything in the quiet room. “I always knew you never did things by halves.”

He twisted, forgetting about his back until pain shot through his body like a hot branding iron. “
Holy hell.
”
 

He took a few deep breaths, hoping like crazy the horse pills he’d washed down his throat started doing something soon.

Amy’s hand gently touched his shoulder.
 

He flinched, drawing in another deep breath as her fingers traced the edge of his scars. His back arched, and a new pain lodged nowhere near his back.
 

Her touch was impersonal. Professional. Her hands glided over his skin, reading the story of his accident under every brush of her fingertips.
 

She gently massaged the cream into his aching muscles. Her fingers roamed across his right shoulder, stroking his skin with infinite care. “Relax, Nathan.”

 
He closed his eyes. If he tried hard he could almost believe the last few months hadn’t happened.
 
That he hadn’t been thrown into a raging inferno, stripped bare of everything he thought he was. Everything he thought he could be.
 

“That’s it. Let your body melt against my fingers.”
 

Amy’s hands became bolder, more certain. She pressed against his skin, releasing muscles chained together in twisted knots. He leaned forward, using his good arm to brace his body against the chair, when
the only thing he wanted to do was dissolve into the hands caressing his skin.

“How does that feel?”

He groaned as another knot unraveled. “Like magic.” Her hands stilled and he could have sworn he heard a quiet chuckle behind him. “Don’t stop on account of me. I’m sure there’s more skin you haven’t touched.”

Amy leaned forward, the laughter in her voice as plain as the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows. “I do believe I’ve found your Achilles heel, Mr. Gray.”

“Believe anything you want, Dr. Sullivan. Just keep moving those hands.”

She reached for the moisturizer, wiping more cream across her palms. “Why are you pushing yourself so hard?”

Nathan breathed deeply as Amy’s hands circled his shoulder blade. “It’s been nearly eight months since the fire. I wouldn’t call getting on a four-wheeler exactly pushing myself.”

“It is when it’s been snowing and you’re driving off-road.”

Pain stabbed through his back as Amy pushed against another knot. “Someone needed to go and see Sean.”

“Maybe.”
 

They fell into an easy silence. His dad must have put his favorite music on. Country gospel drifted through the house as Amy’s hands wrapped around his ribs, rolling and kneading his skin. If the back of the chair hadn’t been holding him upright, he would have slipped to the floor in a puddle of loose muscles and heavy limbs.

“You know, Nathan. Sometimes we can be our own worst enemy.”

He rested his head on his arms. “I can feel a profound moment about to hit me between the eyeballs.”
 

“You’d better be careful or something else might hit you between the eyeballs,” Amy muttered. “If you want me to keep rubbing you’d better sit still and listen to what I’ve got to say.”

“Yes, ma’am. A bit lower…that’s it.” He sank against the chair. Her hands moved to the small of his back, pressing against aching muscles that quivered beneath her touch. His breath followed the rhythm of her hands, filling his lungs with air in time with the long strokes kneading his skin.
 

Amy’s hands moved to his shoulders, gently skimming along bones tacked together with thin plates of metal. She moved closer, smearing more cream onto his back. Her breasts brushed against his arm and he started to think that the massage hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“You’ve gone all tense. Relax.”
 

He concentrated on ignoring Amy’s body. And the sweet scent that followed her wherever she went. And the memories of what it felt like to have her wrapped in his arms.
 
Her hands dipped to his waist, then pulled slowly toward his spine. The hiss of air that left his throat had nothing to do with his back, and everything to do with his imagination.
 

“You’re not the only one that’s ever needed to hide what you’re feeling, Nathan. There were times when my self-esteem was so low I could have disappeared and no one would have noticed. When I lived on the ranch, your family didn’t care about where I’d come from or what had happened to me. You cared about me, the person inside the secondhand clothes.”

He grunted, remembering the tall, gangly teen that had taken up residence beside his sister. They’d become inseparable. The quiet, shy, new girl had hung out with the boisterous, sassy, brunette that didn’t give a damn what the rest of the world thought. They’d shared school lunches and secrets, disappeared for hours each weekend and slaved away on the ranch doing Sally’s chores.