Incidental Fate Book 1

2

There were only a few more days of sunshine in the forecast before the January fog rolled back in, and I was going to make use of every last hour of it! I headed out to the front yard, instantly squinting from the bright sun. I felt the heat, my body automatically sinking to the grass, legs stretching out to absorb the sunlight. Maybe I could lay out for a few minutes before I started. I yanked my shirt over my head, balling it into a makeshift pillow before laying back and closing my eyes.

"Are you okay?"

I was half-dreaming, hearing a voice again.

"Sadie, are you okay?"

The sky went dark, a shadow casting over me, startling me out of a dream, ending my impromptu nap. "Yeah," I yawned, staring up at the guy standing over me, his dark eyes gradually coming into focus. "Aren't you Grant's friend?"

"I wouldn't say friend." His gaze drifted over me. "I met him yesterday."

I sat up, yawning once more. "What time is it?"

"Almost noon."

"Oh my gosh!" I jumped to my feet too fast, specks and flashes littering my sight, legs wavering.

Hands caught my bare waist, each finger like a bolt of lightning striking my skin. "Are you sure you're okay?" His stare locked with mine, his grip tightened, steadying me, making me even dizzier than I was before. "I don't think laying half-naked in your front yard's very fucking safe."

Fucking safe? I snapped back into reality, realizing how close we were now—too close. I jerked back, but he didn't let go, his fingers digging into my skin, taking me from dizzy to faint. Breathe. "I'm, I'm fine." I reached to his hands, the surge from the touch instant. "I, um..." I tried to ignore the sting as I pried his fingers away. "Wha—what are you doing here? Grant lives on campus." My voice was shaky, just like the hands I was hiding behind my back, trying to calm them from the electricity still pulsing through my fingers.

He grinned, tilting his head to the side. "You said to come help you garden."

And the dizziness was gone. What? "I told my son to come help me garden."

"My mistake," he playfully apologized, throwing his hands up in defense. "But I'm here now. I can help."

Hmm... I looked around us, searching for the camera or guys that'd be making fun of me. This had to be some prank or a hazing contest. "I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"Gavin." His deep stare found my eyes, making my legs suddenly weak, about to lose my balance again.

"Do you think this is funny? Don't be an ass!" He didn't seem dangerous, I knew that type well enough, though he also didn't seem sincere.

"I'm just offering to help."

Liar. "Don't you have class or something?"

"My afternoon's clear." He moved closer, so I moved back, looking up at the man towering over me.

"Are you being serious?" What the hell was happening!

He walked past me, scanning the yard, pushing one hand to his face, rubbing over his jaw. "You know your daisies are under the shade of your roof," he called back over his shoulder. "They'll die without sunlight."

I dropped my hands to my hips, ignoring the heat that still lingered from where his fingers had been. The daisies huh? I had spent a lot of money on all these plants and knew zilch about gardening. "Okay," I agreed reluctantly. "We'll move the daisies, then, plant these strawberries." I pointed to the green plastic case of strawberry plants.

He followed my gaze. "Where's the planter?"

"The, the what?"

"The raised planter," he chuckled, flipping his palms up like it was common knowledge. "They'll get destroyed otherwise." He stood there, stone-faced and staring at me like I was in trouble.

"What?" I couldn't help the laugh that shot out. "I have no idea what you're talking about." I laughed again. Who was this guy? Ten feet tall, as broad as my front door, dark hair, darker eyes, darker stubble around that smirk. He was the guy you met at a bar, not while planting your garden. Met at a bar... Oh my god! What was wrong with me? University, senior—senior! "I, I... you know what, I'm good here."

"You have any clue what you're doing?" Now it was him letting out a chuckle, albeit a condescending one.

"Yeah." No. "Planter, um, I guess I can build one. I'll just need some wood, and a hammer and nails."

He walked forward, eyes flashing down to mine, lips curling up at the edges. "I'll happily provide the wood, the hammer, and I'm pretty fucking good at nailing."

"You, uh..." I coughed, trying to clear the instant lump in my throat. It was hot, very hot out here. "Um." I bent down, plucking up the small shovel and smashing it into his palm. "Daisies." I cleared my throat again, gesturing him to where the daisies were.

He stifled a laugh, watching me as he started away, and then he sat in the dirt, shovel digging right in. He was actually doing this. And I, was actually still staring. Focus. I dropped to the ground myself, starting to dig— not staring at him, or his arms that were flexing with each drive of the shovel... Focus, dig, focus, Sadie!

He abruptly stood, the back of his hand flying to his forehead, wiping the sweat away before reaching for the hem of his shirt—oh no! Look away, avert your eyes, avert! He tugged the shirt up, twisting so his back was to me—that back lined with edges of muscles and speckled with glimmering drops of sweat from his shoulders down to the inch of his exposed boxers, so he wore boxers... oh, my, god. Avert your damn eyes! I looked back down at the dirt in front of me, fighting with my eyes that were panning back to him, landing right on his ass as he bent back over, the ass that those jeans clung to so perfectly.

He straightened up again, twisting my way, muscles flexing, revealing his ripped chest, strong tattooed biceps, hard stomach. Good lord. He started walking towards me. I forced a smile, awkward and painful, eyes refusing to stop staring.

"Here we go." He dropped to the ground, squeezing in beside me, bare arm brushing mine.

Breathe, too late. The surge was instant, heat radiating from my toes to my hair, twinges, and tingles that had been in hibernation for years suddenly wakening. Have you no self-control? I lectured the ache building, the itch begging to be scratched.

I inched away, discreetly squeezing my thighs together, trying to calm the storm that was brewing between them.

"Ready for the wood?" His voice was a hiss.

My face shot up, meeting his. "The um, the what?"

"Wood?" he repeated. "I can build that planter now."

Wood. "Yeah, yes of course. I'll go see what I have in the garage." I stumbled up too fast, head spun, dizzy again, his hands hitting my waist to steady me.

My heart thumped, the wind knocked out of me from his touch, his face hovering at the top of my thighs, his thick fingers searing my bare skin. "Too, too much sun." I fumbled on my feet, barely making it to the garage. "Get a hold of yourself!"

He needed to go, and he needed to go now! I stepped back out just enough to see him. "No wood," I yelled over, keeping my distance, standing safely away. "But thanks for your help today. I'm going to go inside now, get out of this heat."

He stood, shaking out his sweaty hair as he bent over for his shirt. "I'll bring a planter by later."

Later? No, he couldn't come here again. "It's okay. I've got it. Goodbye, Gavin."