While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.
‘Go on, Gina,’ Mike said nodding to the small stand of oak and beech trees where The Professor stood having what he no doubt thought was a private moment. ‘I dare you.’
‘Shut up,’ I hissed. ‘He’ll hear us.’
‘If you can’t heat up the Ice Man, who can? I know you want to.’ Mike gave me a playful shove in the professor’s direction, and I responded with an elbow in his ribs resulting in a low grunt. I couldn’t take my eyes off the man in the trees giving himself a good grope. He’d asked us to call him Ed, but since I was only a lowly volunteer who never got close enough to have a real conversation with him, I still thought of him as The Professor. Seeing him this way was like a fantasy come true. Possibly he had stepped into the trees for a pee, but he certainly wasn’t anxious to zip up and get back to work. I wasn’t sure he could even if he’d wanted to. He leaned back against a young oak tree. His eyes were closed, his fly was open.