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rear of the car, Remy shuffled next to the wall, avoiding the panoply of snow shovels and rakes. He exited through the side entrance and stalked stiff-legged around to the back of the house. Jamie wasn’t on the patio anymore. Maybe he’d decided to take a nap. He unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen. A trace of bacon scented the air. “Jamie? I’m back.”
    Silence.
    Through the dining room and on to the living room. Empty. Remy rubbed his quadriceps. “Jamie?”
    Only the faint ticking of the clock on the mantel.
    Had he called his sister and left? But surely he’d wait until Remy got home or at least leave a note. A knot formed beneath his sternum. He hadn’t gotten enough time, and if Jamie had left…
    Bedroom . Remy hobbled down the hall. The door to the guest room sat ajar. Holding his breath, he glanced in.
    Thank God.
    Jamie reclined on the bed, eyes closed. His ankle was propped on a couple of pillows and topped with an ice pack. A book rested in his lap, and he wore earphones. No wonder he couldn’t hear me . Remy cleared his throat and then knocked.
    Jamie jumped and tugged out an earbud. “Hey. Didn’t hear you.”
    Remy breathed a sigh of relief. Ridiculous to be so happy the guy was still here. “Are you okay? Pain?”
    “Nope. Ice packs have made a new man out of me.”
    A cramp in the thigh stole Remy’s breath. “I’ll start dinner after my shower. Sound okay?”
    Jamie pushed up straight, and his blue-eyed gaze locked on Remy. “You’re limping. Did you get hurt?”
    “Muscle cramps.” He grimaced. “Nothing a shower won’t fix.”
    A smile started slow and like a rising sun spread over Jamie’s face in a dazzling display. “Let me give you a massage.”
    Now he couldn’t have heard right. “What?”
    “A therapeutic massage. It’s what I do for a living.” Jamie held up his hands. “Ten fingers, available right now.”
    Sounded like a proposition. But Jamie’s face showed no guile, no come-hither sexiness. Remy rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know if that’s—”
    “I worked at a sports medicine clinic before I moved here. I have lots of experience.”
    Remy planted his fists on his hips. Jamie’s hands on him would be awesome. Maybe too awesome. Remy wasn’t sure his body would know it was platonic.
    “C’mon. I guarantee it’ll help.” Jamie rubbed his palms together. Muscles moved under the pale skin of his arms.
    Did Remy want to recover and run that marathon? Or just suffer through, knowing he’d passed up a chance to ease the pain and get back to training? “Let me grab a shower first. Back in a few.”
    * * * *
    “Ready?” Jamie stood on one foot next to the bed and patted the comforter.
    Remy swallowed and ran a towel over his hair. Suddenly a pair of boxer briefs didn’t seem like enough of a barrier. Maybe he should make do with Icy Hot and a heat wrap. Or an ice bath. “You sure you’re up to this?”
    “Yeah. It won’t be as good as a table, but I can manage.”
    “You can’t weight-bear on that ankle, and standing on one foot isn’t safe.”
    “I know. I’ll sit next to you while you lie on the bed. And it’ll help me get an idea of whether I might be able to work.”
    “In the name of gainful employment, then.” Remy approached the bed and draped the towel over the footboard, then lay down on his stomach. He rested his chin on his folded arms.
    Jamie settled on the bed next to his hip. “Scoot over a bit, would you?”
    Grunting, Remy scooted.
    “I’m going to use lotion, if that’s okay with you.”
    “Fine.”
    A snap, and a juicy squirt. Very suggestive, under other circumstances. A light fragrance met his nose. Melon, fresh and cool. Hands closed on Remy’s shoulders and commenced with a hard squeeze to the trapezius. Remy gasped. God, the guy was strong.
    The hands relaxed. “Okay?”
    “Yeah. Go ahead.”
    Gentle kneading along the ridges of tight muscle progressed to the deep probing of thumbs along