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He moaned lightly as I increased the pressure. “It’s nothing you can help with.”
“You can still tell me about it,” I encouraged. After a half minute of silence, I’d had enough. I went to the kitchen.
“Don’t stop. That felt good,” he said.
I poured myself a glass of wine. “Be right back.” I grabbed a few ice cubes in a bowl and returned to the couch. I lifted his pants and stuffed an ice cube down his butt crack and sat on him again.
“Hey,” he complained.
I smacked him on the back again. “I’ve got a lot more where that came from,” I told him. “Now are you going to talk to me, or am I going to have to freeze your balls off?”
“That’s cold,” he complained.
“That’s not an answer.” I resumed kneading the tight muscles of his shoulders.
He moaned and relaxed his shoulders. “You’re right. I just didn’t want you to worry.”
I moved to his neck. “Listening is in the job description, remember?”
“It’s work… I’ve got a big problem.”
“Is this about Winterbourne again?” I moved back to his shoulders.
“Yes and no. Winterbourne is still the issue, but I’m afraid the big problem is they’ve got a spy in my company. For the life of me, I can’t think who it might be.”
I started to move down his back. “So you need to do a mole hunt, like in the movies.”
“Something like that.”
“Maybe your brother or that guy Vincent can help.”
He groaned as I pressed my knuckles in harder. “Keep that up. I called Bill, and he referred me to my Uncle Garth.”
I moved down to his lower back. “And what did your uncle say?” Liam was avoiding telling me the hard truth about what was bothering him, which was very un-Liam.
A long silence ensued. “He told me to call my brother-in-law, Nick.”
“And what did Nick say?” I asked as I moved back up to his middle back.
“No. Lower, more down low.”
I shifted my weight down to his thighs and moved to work his lower back. I waited for an answer that didn’t come. “You didn’t call him, did you?”
“No,” he mumbled.
“You need to call him.”
He turned his head slightly. “I know what I need to do. I’m just trying to think of anything else I can do instead.”
This was unlike my Liam, to put off a simple call to start a fix on his problem, especially a problem this major. The Winterbourne Group had become his private nemesis.
“You’re scared,” I challenged him.
“I am not scared; I’m concerned,” he said.
I pressed harder. “A distinction without a difference. Is this the brother-in-law you had the run-in with?”
“The same,” he admitted.
