He finally spoke. “What’re you thinking?”
“I’m thinking how domestic and yet mildly awkward this is. You, in my kitchen, bearing, let’s see…” She peered into one bag. “Fresh tomatoes and pasta flour. And coconut oil?”
“I’ll take that.” A wide grin broke across his face. Leo hustled the jar out of her hand and rotated the lid off. He sniffed at the contents and invited her to do the same. “How do you feel about massage?”
Anna pressed the tip of one finger into the jar. The solidified oil softened from the heat of her skin. She rubbed her fingertips and thumb tip together. “Silky.”
Leo repeated her actions, licking his finger where the warmed oil glistened. “Mm, tastes good, too. And I agree. I know what we’re doing is unusual.”
He leaned against the front of the refrigerator and crossed and uncrossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t seem to know what to do with himself in the confined space. They stood in the kitchen for another silent pause.
“Maybe you could bring in some firewood?” Anna suggested. “We could warm up the living room.”
“What about your bedroom?”
“It’s a mess in there. I started another cleaning project. And I don’t know,” she said, shrugging, “just thinking about bringing a man in there still feels weird.” She reset the lid on the jar and set it on the table by the couch. “You okay with being in here?”
Leo nodded. “Yeah, I am. Point me in the direction of the woodpile.”
Anna moved the couch toward the wall to give them more floor space and gathered pillows from her bed and quilts from the guest room. Leo started a fire in the woodstove while she made a comfortable place for them to lie down, near enough to feel the heat. She left to get hand towels as he concentrated on unlacing his boots. She detoured to the front door, locked it, and pulled the shade. Leo moved to the makeshift bed and knelt, feeding another log into the woodstove. He sat back on his heels, the dancing flames in front of him giving a warm glow to the rest of the room.
“What did you have in mind for today?” she asked when she returned. Leo stared at the flames before answering.
“Performance anxiety begets failure,” he began, looking at her over his shoulder and pointing both hands to his groin. “Which makes it a challenge to think about anything else, and the rest of my body’s been neglected.” He leaned forward to adjust the air vent and lowered himself, belly-up, onto the pile of quilts. “Saffron, I would like to be touched.”
Anna tucked her legs to one side so she could lean against his hip. “I’m no masseuse, but I would love to touch you, Leo.” She peeled off her socks and traced the length of his legs and torso with her gaze. “I had a massage last week, and the woman working on me did something that felt really good.”
“What was that?”
“I’ll show you.”
She came onto her knees, cupped her hands over one of Leo’s clothed thighs, and squeezed then released the pressure, and repeated the movement down to just above his knee. One part of her brain began a commentary on the fabric. She was, after all, a professional seamstress. Another part of her brain marveled at the ease with which Leo had insinuated himself into her life…or that she had invited him in. And another part pointed out this wasn’t as much about the cut of the cloth or the cut of the man, but about her relationship with risk-taking.
“Why’d you stop?” Leo patted her hand.
She started, and shrugged. “Because I went off on a mental tangent. But I’m back, and I think I was supposed to begin with your feet. How did that feel?”
“Perfect amount of pressure. And anything you want to share?”
“Not right now.” She shook her head even though his eyes were closed again. “I’ll start down here at your feet and do your whole body, just like she worked on mine.”
The room had warmed enough for her to remove her sweater. Anna positioned herself so she could reach Leo’s entire left leg, from his toes to the top of his thigh.
“You okay?” she asked, circling his ankles with her hands.
“Perfect,” he murmured, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I’m just going to lie here and breathe. Nudge me if I snore.”
Anna held his ankles a few more beats then released his right foot and concentrated on his left side, starting with firm, rhythmic squeezing and releasing at the arches then the toes and moving up his leg to the ankle and calf.
As she neared his knee, he shook his leg. “Ticklish. A bit, right there.”
She rested her hands directly above and below the knee, gripped, and let go then finished the left leg by moving her hands, breath by breath, to the top of his thigh, her fingers close to his groin. Visually, she could see no reaction. Maybe he had excellent self-control. Or maybe he really was more profoundly affected by the chemotherapy and she would have to continue to trust his explanation.
“Let me have your hand.” She started with his wrist then moved to his fingers, one at a time, and up his arm, to the shoulder. No rings, no watch this time. Smooth skin, lightly tanned, moderate amount of body hair.
The quiet of the room around them was punctuated by the occasional calls of crows, the snap of resin heating within the burning wood, and their breath. Once she started touching his body, the need to fill in the empty spaces with conversation dissipated.
Anna moved down Leo’s other arm and leg and reversed the process. A half hour passed. She reached over his legs and added another log to the woodstove.
“I like being squeezed, Saff,” he whispered, speaking in slow motion. “I feel so relaxed.”
“I know something else that’ll feel
