The heat was oppressive. Delilah fanned herself with her hat for a moment before getting up from her knees to go turn on the hose. What did you expect from a gardening business in August in southern Georgia, she asked herself. Turning on the spigot, she dragged the hose back towards the flower bed she'd just planted. She stood for a moment, surveying, nodding in approval. It looked bright and cheerful, which was the client's request.
"Well, now," a male voice drawled, "You're too pretty to be doing so much work."
She turned, startled, and saw a man leaning against the porch rail. Owner's husband, she thought first. Nah, too young, she corrected herself. He was hot, though. He had dark hair, on the long side, with a curl on his neck that made her sweat. His body was tight, athletic, but not heavily muscled. He wore a tee and jeans, old, worn...God, she was staring. Delilah blushed furiously, searching for something to say to excuse her behavior.
"Too much sun," he announced, hopping the rail to the ground and striding towards her. The fluid movement stole whatever response she might have managed. The intent look on his face, the way his long legs ate up the ground had her backing up. Even as he reached her, she took a step back and stepped on her spade. She teetered, gasping in surprise and unconsciously raised the hose - and drenched the front of his shirt.
"Oh, God, I'm so sorry," she babbled, even more embarrassed. Not only had she stared at what had to be the owner's son, but she'd gotten him all wet. His green eyes narrowed a moment, then he moved too fast for her to counter.
"That's a great idea," he chuckled, grabbing for the hose. He managed to drench the front of her before Delilah grabbed back and a tug-of-hose ensued. It ended with both of them dripping, laughing like loons, her tee and shorts clinging to her body, his jeans dragging with water.
"Who are you?" she finally managed, a little out of breath. She watched him bunch and wring the bottom of his tee (and did he have abs!) before he answered.
"Alex," he answered, "Aunt Kate owns the house. I'm visiting for the week." She saw the look in his eyes as they swept over her and blushed. "More importantly, who are you?"
"Delilah," she murmured, blushing again. He was probably still in college, two or more years younger than her, and had women gathering like flies on honey. To her body, however, age didn't matter and she felt her belly tighten with excitement. The honey thought brought to mind licking and she blushed even deeper.
He nodded. "I can see that," he answered with a cocky grin, "You could tame a wild man...or maybe get a little wild with him..." She looked up in surprise and saw how his eyes had darkened, how intent they were on her.
"I..." she stepped back, tripped on the hose and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her arm. He stepped closer and she could feel the heat coming off his body. "I'm just here to plant the flowers..."
"Sure. And they're pretty," he grinned again, stepping one more step, his body now brushing hers, "But not as pretty as you..." Spring break was turning out to be more interesting than anticipated.
She was caught by his stare, the invitation, the heat of her own body, the nearness of his. She tried to collect her thoughts. "That's an old line," she managed. And, delivered with that southern charm, it still made her melt. It made her forget she was wearing damp grubby clothes and probably had dirt on her face. She brushed a hand over her nose, just in case.
