meet his, that same uncertainty from before still
lingering.
There were so many things he wanted to ask her. He
wanted so much to understand this woman and he felt she needed desperately to
be understood, but some questions weren’t meant to be asked.
“Coffee would be great. Thank you.” He nodded to
the back sliding door. “Is it okay if I let myself out? It
shouldn’t take long.”
Her shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly, the tiniest flash
of disappointment running across her face.
He almost smiled. "Then we can go have
dinner."
“Um, yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes.
Go ahead out. I’ll bring your coffee out in a minute.”
He crossed the kitchen, trying to step lightly to keep from
sounding like a herd of buffalo in his work boots on the hardwood floors.
A few minutes later, as he was pulling the broken faucet free of the water
line, he heard the light clicking of Gwen’s heels across the brick and looked
up as she handed him a travel mug.
“I forgot to ask how you take it. I made it the way I
like it, but I can make a fresh cup if you’d rather have it differently.”
As the last word escaped her lips she clamped her mouth shut, the full line of
her lips thinning under the pressure.
He took the cup from her. “I take it however you made
it.”
He sipped the hot liquid letting the sweet creaminess swirl
around his mouth. He’d been drinking it black his whole life and just
this one sip had him rethinking that decision. Cream and sugar made one
hell of a big difference.
He looked across the cup at the pretty blonde staring out
into her backyard, hair blowing in the gentle breeze. Maybe it wasn’t
just the cream and sugar making the difference. “It’s perfect.
Thank you.”
He set the cup on the ground beside him and went back to
work. He expected her to go back inside to wait for him to finish.
Instead, she sat down on the ground beside him. He watched out of the
corner of his eye as she maneuvered herself down, careful not to scoot her
dress or her shoes across the cement.
She sat quietly like that, watching the sky, even as the
breeze changed to a strong wind and occasional raindrops splashed the ground
around them. He hadn’t checked the weather before he called her this
afternoon. “You should go inside. I’m almost done.”
She looked up, the sky dark and threatening above her.
“It’s okay.”
She turned to face him, squinting her eyes as her hair
whipped wildly around her face. “I like storms.”
As the wind continued to pick up and the occasional
raindrops became more frequent, he tried to rush to get the new threaded end on
the pipe, but his blow torch was fighting him.
After a couple attempts, he finally had a flame and made
quick work of sweating the pipe. By the time he finished twisting the new
faucet into place, the rain was pelting his back. He grabbed his stuff
and stood, reaching his hand out to Gwen. “You’re going to ruin your
dress.”
She looked at his hand, then at his face. There was
fear in her eyes.
Slowly she raised her arm and fitted her hand into
his. Her eyes searched his, the fear still there, but an emotion he
couldn’t discern took the forefront.
She squeezed his hand as he pulled her up beside him then
shook her dress gently, trying to keep it from completely sticking to her body.
He held his hand in the direction of the door. “After
you.”
She went ahead of him, walking slowly across the deck,
obviously not concerned about the very expensive dress and shoes she was
wearing getting soaked, before finally going through the sliding door and into
the house. He pulled the door closed behind him then turned to find her
standing staring at him.
She shivered, goosebumps raising
on her arms, her nipples tightening against the wet fabric hugging her
body. He swallowed hard, forcing his eyes away from her. His ideas
about slowly, gently coaxing Gwen
Scott Lynch
Judy Goldschmidt
Piers Anthony
Jaye Shields
Copyright Paperback Collection (Library of Congress) DLC, Elizabeth Doyle
Jackie Ivie
Arianne Richmonde
Alan Jacobson
Amanda Cross
Tasha Black