Chapter Twenty-Three
Effleurage. Knead. Cross-friction. Drain. Stretch.
“Can you do that skin rolling thing over my back?” Troy asked.
“Sure.” Ella used her soft, Zen-massage voice. Don’t ask me anything else. And please. Don’t. Moan.
She gently pulled the skin at Troy’s shoulder between her fingers and rolled it in short waves down his back.
“That feels so good.” He moaned. “You’re amazing.”
She ignored his comment, blocked out his voice, and worked the motion in reverse to his shoulder.
“That’s all the time we have today.” Instead of slowly gliding her hands over his back one more time, feeling for any last minute issues she would normally take an extra few minutes on, she quickly glided down his back and pulled the sheet up. One, swift brushing over the sheet to his feet, and she let go.
“I don’t want it to be over,” Troy sighed. “A few more minutes?”
“I’m sorry, Troy. That’s all the time I have today. I’ll see you in the waiting area. Remember to go through two breathing cycles before getting off the table.” Getting up too quickly could make you faint. I don’t need you fainting on me all naked.
She pumped hand sanitizer into her palm and walked to the door. She finished rubbing it into her hands, then turned the door handle.
“Ella, when is your next client?”
She opened the door. “You’re my last one.” I’ve got to get you out and get ready for Derek.
“Oh.”
She heard the sliding of skin and sheet. Shit. She hustled out and closed the door behind her. He got bolder with each appointment. Ignoring his interest wasn’t working. Making him read her massage policy every time he came in wasn’t working. If he didn’t always pay in cash, she would have refused to work on him. The saving grace was that he hadn’t crossed the line and touched her or asked her to do anything extra except massage techniques she offered on her modality list. Her gut screamed at her to cut him off. She couldn’t do it without a concrete reason, and so far, he hadn’t given her one.
Troy strode out of the room and joined her next to the product display. “I saw you with Cade Jackson the other day. Are you two dating?”
Phew. “Um. Yes. We’re dating.”
“He comes here for a massage?”
She cleared her throat. “He’s no longer a client.”
He slipped his hands into his suit pants pockets. “That’s a violation of your policies.”
Shit. “We got set up on a blind date. It was awkward, but we ended our business relationship before the date got started.”
“I wonder if the Massage Board would consider your relationship with him an ethics violation.” He tilted his head, scrunched his brows together, and pursed his lips together.
“Are you threatening me?” Oh shit. Fucking shit. I haven’t done anything wrong.
“No, Ella.” He rubbed his lips together, straightened up, relaxed his brows, and scanned her from her face to her feet. “Would you’d have lunch with me tomorrow to talk business. I like your soaps and oils. I’d like to offer your line to my customers. Could you develop special oils and lubricants for couples?” He adjusted the bulge in his pants.
“What are you implying?” she asked. I don’t do sexual favors.
“I’m not implying anything. I’m asking. I know you’re dating Derek McGregor too. He frequents my stores, and I am aware of the kind of fun he enjoys. I’m going to be blunt.”
Her eyes had to have bugged out at him.
He laughed. “I’m interested in sexual oils safe for licking off. Sweet, sour, bitter, salty. This is confidential. I want to do some blind tests for a party I’m hosting next month. I’m not asking to fuck you. Although if you offered, I would be happy to oblige.”
She swallowed.
“It’s three hours of your time,” he said. “I’ll make it financially worth your while. We’ll talk details tomorrow. Let’s meet at the restaurant across the street for lunch.” He turned and strode to the door.
Derek appeared at the entrance. Troy glanced back at her and smiled. “Sexy Vixen is the party theme. Doctor Derek McGregor will be there.”
Derek opened the door. “Hey, Troy. What did you think?”
“Ella is the best massage therapist in the area.” Troy shook Derek’s hand. “She is going to work the party I’m having. We’re partnering in a product line exclusively for my stores.”
“That’s great,” Derek said.
The two men switched places, Derek inside and Troy outside. “I’m taking her to lunch tomorrow to go over details,” Troy said. “You’d use her oils, right?”
“I do use her soaps and oils. They’re high quality. I’ll even give a written endorsement of them.”
“That’s what I thought.” Troy smiled.
Her stomach clenched. Sleazy man.
Troy walked to the red luxury SUV parked in clear view of the entrance.
****
Derek closed the door and gazed at his beautiful Ella highlighted against the lavender walls. “Troy is a good guy.”
She rolled her mesmerizing blue eyes. “I don’t know about that.”
“He is. He’s always on the prowl, but he doesn’t step over any boundaries. His toes will be on the edge, but he never crosses without absolute consent.” Did Troy do something?
“Tell him to stop moaning on my table. It creeps me out.” She stomped to her massage room like an angry toddler.
He followed her. “I moan.”
“You’re different. I’ve always liked you, and you don’t do that sexual moan on the table. You give more of a damn-that-hurts moan. I don’t want to hurt you, so I try to avoid those.”
A hundred-dollar bill lay on top of the hot pink sheets.
“He tips well. What’s with the sheets?”
She smirked and lowered her chin.
“He loves pink,” Derek said. “He’s a dominant with some interesting tendencies, but he loves sleeping and fucking on pink sheets.”
She frowned as she plucked the bill from the sheet and put it in her pocket. “Great.”
“He didn’t do anything, did he?” Troy likes smart brunettes, but he wouldn’t make a move on her. I told him she was mine and Garrett’s.
“No. He moans. I had to tell two clients to leave. I hate these kind of days…”
“Is there a problem I need to take care of?” The neighborhood was safe, and the restaurant owner across the street kept an eye out for her. He’d hear about it if she needed him at the spa all the time.
She handed him a container of cleaning wipes and removed the sheets from the table. “Should I have lunch with Troy? Is he serious about selling my products at his stores, and what stores does he actually own?”
He wiped down the table and placed the wipes in the basket on the counter near the corner sink. “He owns fifty upscale, adult bookstores across the country. You’d be smart to do business with him. If he likes the oils, you’ll have to expand your business. Hire a few people…” Derek continued telling her about Troy and his business as they cleaned and finished closing procedures.
All he needed her to do was talk business with Troy. The man needed a motivated partner who accepted his life and didn’t want to get intimate. Ella desired financial independence, and he would make sure she had it. Joining the two in business made sense.
“Ready?” he asked.
She nodded. “Did you talk to Cade?”
“Yes, ma’am. He’s running late and going to try and meet us at the funeral home.”
“Garrett?” She’d invited Garrett, but he was on an emergency mission and couldn’t commit.
“I’m not sure he’ll be debriefed in time. But if anyone could make it happen, it would be him. He’ll be back for movie night at our house.”
“Jerry is coming over for dinner. Movie night might not happen.”
“You told me that five times. Are you avoiding me?” He placed his hand on her mid-back. You’re underweight. I’m going to change that.
“Uh. No.”
He guided her out of the spa and into the back of the black limo. He tapped his finger to the tinted glass separating the driver from the back.
The vehicle rolled forward. He patted his lap. “Come here.”
She shifted and faced him.
He steered her until she straddled his lap. “We’re close?”
She nodded.
“I’m going to be honest.” He leaned forward and kissed her nose. “I’m upset with you.”
“You are?”
He nodded. “I am.” He gently cupped the back of her neck. How far will you let me go? His cock ached to have her, to mark her as his woman. “I’ve known you for close to twenty years, and you never told me you knew Highland and Jerry Wynn. You know I’m a huge cage-fighter fan.”
She laughed. “Are you serious?”
He nodded and spread his legs, widening hers. He flattened his hand over her ass and pulled her against his ready-to-fuck cock. “Garrett met Highland at a coffee shop in Vegas, and asked him to send me a signed photo. Highland actually did, and…” He grinned like a man who just won the lottery. You’re friends with Jerry, and you’re following all my physical cues. “…he sent one of Jerry too. Said his brother was going to be unstoppable, and he has been. He’s never lost a fight. Garrett won’t officially introduce me. He has forbidden me to go any closer than ten yards from him. He thinks I’m going to go all crazed fangirl like, but I promise I won’t.”
“Oh, my God. You want me to introduce you to him?”
He nodded. His eyes widened. “Please?”
“Why don’t you join us for dinner?”
“I’d love to. Thank you.” He leaned closer until his mouth hovered millimeters from hers. “Really, thank you.”
“Anytime.” The pulse at her neck throbbed.
He leaned back against the seat and closed his eyes. You want to fuck me. Should I make you wait? Yes. I think I will keep you guessing about my intentions. “After dinner, I’ve got to run to the hospital, but I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good.” She stayed in his lap but averted her gaze to the window.
The limo slowed. The warmth of the ride hit a cold patch. Should I show you how much I love you?
The car stopped too soon.
“I’ve got to check on a patient. I’ll be back soon,” he said.
She climbed off his lap. “I’ll be with Jerry until it’s over.”
****
She stepped out of the limo and strode toward the entrance to the brown, brick funeral home. I made an ass out of myself. Derek is not into me at all. He’s only into Garrett. Jerry stretched his shoulders beside a white pillar near the side entrance. His green shirt with a white clover on the front and Wynn in white letters on the back clung tightly to his muscular chest and biceps. She semi-matched him with her green shirt, black jeans. She hurried forward, her black sneakers barely making a sound.
Jerry shook out his shoulders and arms and sauntered down the green carpet of the portico. His gaze remained cast down and his face marred with the unnatural paleness of anguish.
“Jerry.”
He spotted her and visibly relaxed. “Ellie.”
“I’m sorry I’m late. What can I do?” She hugged him and stepped back.
“I have a shirt for you,” he said. “Can you say something, or read something, or something? The director has options for you, but he wanted an open casket, and when I saw her again… I told him to close it. I can’t…”
He pulled her in and hugged her. “I forgot how horrible this was. It’s been years since I had to bury anyone. I always had Aunt Mae beside me, holding me up.” His voice cracked. He sounded like a little boy, not the strong, resilient man holding her. His breath hitched. Moisture from his eyes fell softly against her cheek.
“It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “I’m here, and you can lean on me.” Some things between friends never change. “I’ve got your back.”
“Thanks.” He held her tightly as if she were keeping his head above water. She supposed she was. “Now, take a deep breath in with me.” She inhaled, catching a scent of ginger from his skin. You used my soap.
He mimicked her breathing.
“Jerry, it’s time to straighten up, and find the director. Miss Mae deserves to be honored, and you have the privilege of making it happen.”
He released her from his embrace and ran his hands over his face, wiping the tears away. He stood up straight. “I’m good.”
She cupped his cheeks like she had her boys at Greg’s funeral to give them the encouragement to get through it. “You represent the Wynn name. She gave that name to you because she loved you.”
He nodded and lightly bounced on the balls of his feet as if he were getting ready for a fight. “She did. Hell, yeah.” A small smile formed on his lips. “Thanks, Ellie.”
She mimicked his nod. “I’ll change into this tee, and we’ll be twins for the rest of the day.”
“Okay.” He straightened his spine and once again stood strong and confident.
She wiped the last bit of moisture under his eyes away. “There’s that handsome Wynn boy I knew growing up.”
He slid his hand to the small of her back and guided her to a private room for her to change. Once changed, he led her into the director’s office. Cinnamon candles burning on the table behind his desk couldn’t mask the stale smell of ash inside. The funeral director sat at a clutter free mahogany desk wearing the classic black suit of death.
“Mrs. Winthrop will say a few words about Mrs. Wynn,” the director spouted off as soon as they crossed the threshold of his inner sanctum. “Then she will say the Twenty-Third Psalm as Mrs. Wynn requested in the will. Mr. Wynn, you will…” The director continued with the instructions and answered questions. Then he walked to the door and shooed them out.
“That was weird,” she whispered.
“I beat his son in a high school wrestling match. Kid started a fight afterward. I finished it. It happened more than twenty years ago, and they’re not over it.” He shook his head. “Some people.”
Jerry took Ella’s hand and strode to the empty main entrance. She should have had Kyle and Jason come to be pallbearers, but she assumed he’d have friends to help him. She should text Derek and have him help. Maybe she had time to text the boys too.
He stopped at the doors to the main room and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry for bringing you into this, but I trust you. You never sold me out, and you could have so many times over the years. I looked for you when Highland died, but couldn’t find you. I even talked to your father, but all I got out of him was you moved south, and he hadn’t seen you since. Thank you for being here. I owe you.”
She stared at him bewildered. What? Sold you out? You looked for me? Why?
He squared his shoulders and inhaled, keeping her from asking what he meant.
She straightened up next to him, remembering their tradition before entering school. Nothing could harm them if they steeled themselves from insults, didn’t get involved, didn’t fall into the trap of caring. They achieved their childhood goal of leaving town and never going back but not in the way either had expected.
He pushed the double doors open, and walked inside with her at his side to a standing-room-only crowd of celebrity types. Healthy, athletic men in designer suits stood next to pretty, perfectly proportioned, plastic-doll looking women wearing slinky black dresses on one side of the room, while on the other side, local men and women of all ages and sizes stood in their Sunday best.
Jerry gripped her hand tightly as he strode down the aisle without stopping until he reached the front row. They sat down together. He draped his arm around the back of her chair while they waited for the funeral director to appear.
The man in the black suit entered from the side, said a few sterile words, and called Ella to the front. She carefully walked forward and turned toward the crowd. Her stomach clenched as nerves hit her. The last time she spoke in front of a crowd was at Greg’s funeral, and that had been a blur.
“Thanks for coming and remembering Mrs. Mae Wynn.” She inhaled. Shit. I don’t know the Twenty-third Psalm by heart. She didn’t know any bible verses by heart, and the director hadn’t handed her a Bible, so she decided to go in a different direction.
“I hope Jerry doesn’t mind, but my story about Miss Mae involves him.”
“Tell it,” a few deep voices shouted.
She glanced at Jerry who nodded. Taking that as affirmation to continue, she gazed back at the crowd. “Well, those of you who know Miss Mae know she was a no-nonsense kind of woman. The best kind of woman.”
“Yes, ma’am,” she heard someone say like an “amen” in church.
“So,” she looked at Jerry for validation. He didn’t give her any indication it was okay or not okay to talk. She headed into no man’s land and proceeded. “So, Jerry and I were maybe eight or nine playing at recess in school.”
Jerry smiled in approval.
She turned to the crowd, confident. “Well, playing was probably not the right word. Jerry was getting his butt kicked by Ryan Fitzgerald, who was the biggest and meanest kid in elementary school. I missed a good deal of the fight…” She cocked her head to the side, and stifled a smile.
“…if you can call it a fight. Jerry lay on the ground with a bloody lip and scraped up face. I ran over to him from where I played on the swing set, where he was supposed to be—not in the dirt fighting with Ryan.” She rolled her eyes. “But, that’s Jerry. He never knows when to quit.”
“You know it,” Jerry said with a half-smile, and a wink.
She laughed. “Right. So, there I stood, angry with him for not playing on the swings with me and choosing instead to get in a fight with Ryan. But all that shifted when Ryan said something derogatory—which I will not repeat. I got right up in Ryan’s face, drew back my arm, and threw a right hook, connecting with his jaw in pure, never-would-happen-again-in-a-million-years perfection. Ryan dropped to the ground.”
Mouths gaped in the crowd.
“I know what you’re thinking. Me?” She nodded her head. “Yes, me. I got some serious street cred from it. And so, I became Jerry’s enforcer.” She lifted her hand in a flourish and bowed.
Giggles and hearty laughs filled the solemn space.
“That’s not the whole story,” Jerry said.
“Right.” Ella winked at him. “It just so happened Highland, Jerry’s brother, and Miss Mae were standing behind me, probably giving Ryan dirty looks causing him to stay on the ground, and act dead—”
“—But she’s not dwelling on that right now,” Jerry added.
“Hush now, I’m telling the story.”
A few chuckles moved through both sides of the aisle.
“Highland, of course, said to me, ‘Ellie, you’ll break your thumb if you don’t make a proper fist.’ And Miss Mae said, ‘Ellie O’Brien, you should have fiery red hair with the last name of Wynn to match your determination. You darn near scared me something fierce, and nothing scares me, child.’ ”
Jerry laughed. Amusement flowed through his emerald eyes.
She pressed her lips together. She hadn’t thought about that time in forever. “Miss Mae was the most fearless woman I have ever had the pleasure to know. Jerry gets that from her.”
The director slipped her a Bible opened to the Twenty-third Psalm. She opened her mouth to read when Jerry joined her.
“Can we read it together?” Jerry whispered. He covered her hand with his and intertwined their fingers.
“You start,” she said. They read the psalm together. He hadn’t needed the Bible but she had.
She closed the book when they were finished and stepped forward, ready to get out of the spotlight. He clutched her hand and stopped her from leaving.
“Stay,” he whispered.
She squeezed his hand and stood by his side as he addressed the audience.
“Thank you for coming…” He acknowledged person after person. She had no idea who they were, but they all had famous-sounding nicknames. Derek mentioned cage fighting. Did that mean fists and kicks fighting? She really needed to up her social media game, use a search engine, get out of her small massage circle.
Three of the largest men in the crowd joined them at the front. Bagpipes and drums began playing outside. Jerry and the three men lifted the casket and led the trek to the gravesite.
She walked beside Jerry and worried about his shoulder, hoping he wouldn’t reinjure it. None of the men acted as though the weight of the casket was taxing, but she knew differently.
They walked steadily and smoothly over the uneven ground. Once there, they set it down on cords next to the grave in the way everyone in Ella’s hometown had done for hundreds of years. Then, they lifted the ropes with the casket balanced on them and lowered it down into the ground. They dropped the cords over the casket.
The music stopped. Jerry picked up a fistful of dirt and let it fall through his fingers over the open grave. Ella did the same and then held his hand.
“We’d love for everyone to come to Maggie’s Irish Pub and Grill to celebrate Miss Mae’s life,” Ella said. “Thank you for coming.”
One by one, mourners strode forward, and gave their respect to Jerry until only she and Jerry stood alone by the open grave. “Do you have to go back to work?”
“Nope. I’m here for you. We have to be at my house at six for dinner with my kids and my friend, Dr. Derek McGregor. So, let’s do this.”
“Stand here with me for a few more minutes.” He wrapped his arm around her and turned, facing the place where Mae’s body lay. “I’m scared. The boy in me. I feel so alone.”
She nodded. “Greg, my husband, when he was sick, I didn’t feel alone. Just his presence gave me something to hold onto.” She swallowed down the emotions rising within. “After the funeral, I put my children to bed and had a friend stay at my house with them while I went to his grave.”
She fought back the heartache ready to surface. “…I stood there for hours in the rain alone, staring down at the filled-in plot of land. I loved him more than I’d ever loved anyone else. He had a moment of clarity right before he passed away. He said.” She inhaled and closed her eyes. “He said, ‘Remember me like I was at the beach. Remember the love we shared. Remember true love doesn’t die. You’ll never be alone because my love is deep inside you like yours is within me.’ My heart broke when he took his last breath. My heart is still broken, although it’s healing. I feel alone most of the time, but sometimes…” with Cade “…I don’t feel so alone, so broken hearted. You won’t always feel like this.”
He nodded and tucked her into his side. “Thanks.”
She stood in silence, ready to stay for as long as he needed.