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How did he know exactly how to make her feel comfortable? He was reading her like an open book, how was that possible?

“Come on, Honey, it’s sharing time. Now put your pretty little tootsies on my lap and let me start massaging. I promise, no funny business.”

Amy slipped off her shoes and slowly brought her feet up onto the sofa, making sure that her dress stayed pressed down where it was supposed to, right to the top of her knees. Just as carefully, Ryker picked up first her right foot and brought it up so that it rested over his thigh, not coming into contact with his crotch, then pulled up her left foot to rest beside her right.

“These straps really do a number on your feet. They look like they really hurt, Amy,” Ryker frowned as his thumb smoothed over the indentations made by the leather.

“Nah. It’s not too bad. When you’re moving around you don’t notice it much. It’s when you’re standing still that it suddenly kills.”

“No wonder you’re such a dynamo.”

“How would you know, you’ve only met me in person the one other time.”

“Are you trying to tell me you aren’t?”

Amy shook her head.

“Tell me about me. Just like I got to know you so well after four months on the phone. I’m thinking you’ve gotten to know me pretty well over the four months we talked so much.”

Amy paused to really consider what she was going to say. “You’re brash.”

Ryker let out a loud laugh. “Brash. I’m brash? God, I like that word. I’m going to have to tell the guys that you said I was brash.”

“What’s wrong with that word?”

“It makes me sound like some wet-behind-the-ears kid from the forties, a brash young man, or some such shit. It’s just funny is all.”

“I could have called you reckless, hasty, impudent, or irreverent.”

“Did you swallow a thesaurus?”

“Nah, I just like words. You know I read a lot.”

He nodded, as he picked up her right foot and started to gently massage her insole.

“You can go harder, you know.”

“I’m starting out. I want to see what hurts, and what doesn’t. You don’t always have to wear the manager’s hat for every little thing, Honey. I’ll take care of this.”

Amy settled back against the arm of the sofa. She’d wait and see how he did.

“You know,” Ryker started. “It occurred to me, during our time of silence, that we talked a lot about what we wanted out of life, who our friends were, our goals and ambitions, but anytime I brought up anything about my family, or I asked you about yours, you shrugged off or side-stepped the question.”

He dug his thumb in a little deeper, right under her big toe, and Amy let out a moan that was filled with both pain and pleasure.

“Am I remembering that right, Amy? Were you trying to avoid conversations about family?”

Amy was having trouble keeping track of the conversation as Ryker’s big warm hands caressed and kneaded her sore foot.

“I told you about Carla,” she protested drowsily.

“Yeah, and I want to meet her sometime.”

Amy smiled. It’d be nice if Ryker met Carla. They’d like one another.

“But I’m right about you wanting to avoid questions about your family, right? It was because I wanted you to come and meet mine that you stopped taking my calls, isn’t that true?”

Amy blinked. Her brow furrowed as she tried to take in what Ryker was saying. She tried to pull her foot away from his grasp.