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“Just a minute!” Jake Jenson wheeled himself to his front door the next morning. “Who is it?”
“Mr. Jenson? It’s Rayne Jessup from the Therapeutic Massage Clinic.”
“Hold on.” He did another glance around his living room even though he kept it spotless then answered the door.
A thin blonde around six feet displayed her perfect teeth through an enchanting smile. “Hello.”
“Eh...” Jake batted his eyes to confirm she was there. It had comforted him more to expect a big, burly chick with an accent instead of this goddess.
She had long, thick hair that flowed past her shoulders.
“Um.” He gripped the arms of his wheelchair; his hands entrenched in palm sweat.
“Is everything okay?” She squinted her lime-green eyes, her high cheekbones spreading.
“Yes.” He shook his head, growing warm from embarrassment. “I apologize. I’m Jake Jenson.” He held out his sweaty hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She wore her hair in that loose curl style that made it appear as if it were blowing in the wind, exaggerating her elegant, angular jawline.
“Rayne Jessup.” She pointed to her badge on her chest then gripped his hand like a football player. “Nice to meet you too.”
“Wow.” He wiggled his fingers after she let go. “Some grip you got there.”
“I’ve always had powerful hands.” She held them up, and they were almost as big as his were. “Guess that’s what makes me a good massage therapist.”
“Guess so.” Jake pulled at his shirt.
“You’re nervous, huh?” Her forehead puckered, moving her hairline. “Please relax.” She stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders.
“Ooh.” Jake’s skin turned to butter under her touch. “The minute you touched me the anxiety eased.”
“That’s just a sample of my talents.” She giggled as she walked to the front of the wheelchair. “I have a schedule to keep so we should get started.”
He straightened up, clearing his throat.
“First let’s go over the basics.” She clasped her hands, smelling of honey-roasted almonds. “I have the forms you filled out such as your medical history and your doctor’s instructions. You’ve been having shoulder and foot pain. Am I right?”
“Yes.” He nodded. “The doctor said the shoulder pain comes from wear and tear of being in a wheelchair and the foot pain comes from just being in the chair.”
“Right.” She nodded. “Pain in the shoulder area, wrist and elbow is normal for many wheelchair patients because many don’t keep proper posture or navigate their wheelchairs in a way to keep pressure off those areas.” She went on the porch and brought in a large, black case and a smaller bag.
“You need help?”
“I got it.” She set down the bigger case and opened the other. “It’s the massage table. It’s not heavy at all. Probably around fifty or sixty pounds but holds up to six hundred.”
“Six hundred?” Jake wheeled over to the case. “And it’s folded up?”
“Yep.” She got a piece of paper and a pen from her other bag. “This is the contract for the clinic. Please sign it.”
Jake took the contract and read over it.
“It’s just a basic contract to make sure you know we’re not employed by the hospital but we provide services on the hospital’s behalf.”
“You mean you’re a contracted business.”
“Right.” She unzipped the big bag and pulled out the table.
“That’s how it is these days, huh?” Jake signed the sheet in his lap. “Seems like businesses never do the work themselves anymore.”
“Any way a company can save on money and paying people they’re gonna take that route.” She unfolded the table and set it up.
“You’re good at that.”
She smiled. “You ever had a massage before?”
“Yeah, when I first had my accident.”
She nodded, getting bottles of oil out the bag. “And you’ve been in a wheelchair since two thousand eight?”
“Yes.” He jiggled his foot. “I can walk a little but my legs give out. I lost the strength after the accident.”
“Car accident, right?” She got two thick towels out of her other bag.
Jake exhaled.
“Hey.” She abandoned the towels and approached him. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No.” He fidgeted. “I hate thinking about it. It’s not about just me becoming handicapped but...” He lowered his head. “Never mind.”
She knelt in front of him. “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad.”
He looked into her kind eyes, getting a warm sensation. “You didn’t. I appreciate you caring.”
She stood, winking. “I like to know as much about my clients as possible.”
“That’s good.” Jake swallowed.
“Now for the oils.” She held four bottles in front of him. “I have sweet almond, apricot kernel, jojoba and coconut. Which would you prefer?”
“Makes no difference.” Jake scanned the bottles. “Whichever you like the best.”
She turned the bottles toward her. “My favorite is coconut oil.”
Jake smiled. “Coconut it is then.”
****
Lisa cracked the third egg into the brownie mixture in Jake’s kitchen that night. “So the message session isn’t as bad as you thought it would be?” She stirred the thick batter. “I told you it would go well. You were nervous for no reason.”
“I never liked getting massages but Rayne made me comfortable.” Jake got an apple out the fruit bowl and bit into it. “She has this natural quality that makes you relax. Kind of like a nurse or something. Someone you trust.”
“She needs to be with the job she has.” Lisa struggled to get batter smooth. “Man, I’m wrestling this batter.”
“You didn’t have to bake me brownies.” He wheeled behind her and put his arms around her waist. “What did I do to deserve all this pampering?”
“You have to ask?” She turned with the spoon. “Open your mouth.”
“What?” He grinned.
“You heard me.”
He opened his mouth, and she drizzled batter into it. “Lisa.” He sucked it off his tongue. “Not supposed to eat raw eggs.”
“Oh please.” She straddled his lap, putting her arms around him. “We grew up eating raw cake batter now it’s not safe?” She pushed her lips to his, conquering his mouth with her tongue.
“Wait a minute now.” He gripped her sides, his thumbs resting underneath her breasts. “Aren’t you supposed to be baking?”
“I don’t know.” She ran her hand through his short, blond hair and sucked his earlobe. “I’m about to say ‘to hell’ with these brownies.”
He laughed, kissing her. “You’re something else.”
The doorbell rang.
“Oh.” Lisa frowned, climbing off him. “Every time we’re together there’s a phone call or doorbell. You expecting someone?”
“Nope.” He wheeled out the kitchen backwards. “I’ll be back.”
“Get rid of ‘em.”
“I, I, Captain.” Jake left and came back with a woman who belonged on the cover of Playboy.
What the hell?
Lisa dropped the spoon on the floor.
The gorgeous, supermodel-looking thing rushed to Lisa’s aid. “Let me get that for you.” She got the spoon and laid it in the sink.
“Thank...” Lisa peered at Jake. “May I ask who you are?”
“I’m Rayne Jessup.” She snatched Lisa’s hand and shook it. “I’m Jake’s massage therapist.”
Lisa checked her out.
This ain’t happening. A woman like this putting oil on my man and rubbing him in places no other woman should touch?
Jake’s lost his damn mind!
“Even though he told me some things about you.” Lisa stroked her neck. “He left out others.”
“Well, he told me all about his Lisa.” Rayne smiled from ear to ear. “Yep he couldn’t get enough of talking about you.”
“Really?” Lisa crossed her arms.
Jake flashed a big smile at Lisa, but it wouldn’t get him out of trouble.
“You’re a cop?” Rayne tapped Lisa’s arm. “That’s so great. I’ve never known a real cop. He told me how you guys met too. So romantic.”
“He told you everything about me it seems.” Lisa chuckled. “May I ask what you’re doing here?”
Jake moved from the doorway and stopped beside them. “She brought me a cookbook.”
“A cookbook?”
“Jake told me he’s a chef.” Rayne stared at him with a goofy expression. “He said he likes to cook Mediterranean food, so I was at the bookstore and saw a Mediterranean cookbook I thought he might like.”
“Wasn’t that sweet, Lisa?” Jake beamed.
“You’re a chef.” She shrugged. “Don’t you have every cookbook you need? If you wanted a Mediterranean cookbook, then I would’ve gotten you one. Do you normally buy cookbooks for your clients?”
“Lisa,” Jake mumbled. “She was being nice. Nothing wrong with that.”
“Did I say something was wrong with it?” She grabbed a glass, baking pan from the cabinet. “I just asked her a question.” She poured the batter into the pan. “Do you usually do this, Rayne?”
“No.” She fidgeted, rubbing her hands. “As Jake said I was trying to be nice. I rarely meet a client who’s so forthcoming, and I find him interesting.”
“Why?” Lisa threw the mixture in the oven. “Why is he interesting?”
Jake raised a blond eyebrow. “Are you saying I’m not interesting?”
“I didn’t mean to cause any problems.” Rayne moved back. “Did I overstep my bounds?”
Lisa glared at her. “What do you think?”
“Lisa.” Jake grimaced. “I’m sorry, Rayne. You did nothing wrong.”
“Thanks but...” She flicked her hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jake.”
“Rayne, wait.”
“I’ll see myself out.” She rushed out the kitchen.
“Lisa, what the hell is your problem?”
“You have to ask?” She stuck her neck out. “When you were telling me about Rayne you forgot to mention something about her.”
“What are you talking about?”
She waved her finger. “Not once did you say how this woman looked.”
“Oh, god.” He threw his head back. “Seriously?”
“Don’t act like I’m being ridiculous here.” She bent down to him. “Why didn’t you tell me she looked like a sexpot?” She rose. “You conveniently forgot that part?”
“I didn’t say it because it didn’t matter.” He threw the rest of his apple in the trashcan. “I also didn’t think you’d react like this.”
“Oh, you didn’t?” She grabbed her hips. “And what if the tables were turned and someone who looked like Channing Tatum was my massage therapist? That wouldn’t bother you at all?”
He scoffed. “You’re jealous?”
“I’m not jealous.” Lisa clenched her lips until her face muscles tightened. “I don’t like the fact you hid it and if the shoe were on the other foot you’d feel the same way.”
“Isn’t it on the other foot already?” He leaned to one side of his chair. “Does Winston Lewis ring a bell?”
“This is not the same thing.”
“You’re right. I haven’t been waffling back and forth between you and Rayne. I haven’t been to Rayne’s home or had her in my bedroom.”
She stiffened at his remark. “You are not gonna turn this around on me.”
“You are jealous and good.” He threw up his arm. “Now maybe you know how I feel when you go off to work with Winston every day.”
“Are you blind, Jake?” She pointed to the doorway. “That woman wants you.”
He laughed. “Oh, please.”
“Men are so stupid. She admits she finds you interesting, and she brought you a cookbook.” She wiggled her neck. “That was just an excuse for her to come over here.”
“I don’t believe this.” Jake rubbed his forehead. “Rayne is nobody, okay? She’s my therapist, and that’s it.”
“You don’t find her attractive?” Lisa paced, glaring at him.
“Of course!” He extended his arms. “What man wouldn’t? But, I don’t care about that. Ever since we met, I’ve never wanted anyone else but you. I’ve been faithful.” He scooted his wheelchair back. “Can you say the same?”
She leaned against the sink, feeling as if someone punched her in the gut. “You know I can.”
“You say you want me to trust you then trust me about Rayne. Nothing is going on or ever will.”
“I know you wouldn’t do anything like that, but I don’t trust her. The way she looked at you is strange. Am I supposed to ignore my feelings?”
His eyebrow wrinkled. “I do it when you go off to work every day don’t I?”
He left the kitchen.