“I was on my way,” she lied.
“Aight, cuh,” he hummed, unconvinced, then headed back toward his station.
Meadow watched him go, fighting the urge to stare at the way his back muscles moved under the thin fabric. She busied herselfcoiling the hose so her Daddy wouldn’t fuss, but her mind kept wandering back to what Zaire said.
You just needed some help. Ain’t no shame in that.Help wasn’t something she had the luxury of asking for. Every time she got close to leaning on somebody, they reminded her why she shouldn’t. Men loved to talk about partnership until it came to the hard parts like bills, sickness or late nights of worry.
Zaire didn’t know her like that. He didn’t know about past due notices sitting in a stack on the table…didn’t know about the nights she sat on the floor beside her mother’s bed, rubbing Magnolia’s legs while the pain meds refused to work fast enough…didn’t know about the way the bank lady’s voice sounded when she said the words “final notice” in that too polite tone.
He didn’t know about any of it and she wasn’t planning on telling him.
But his presence…something about him pressed on the cracks she’d learned to ignore.
Days later
The sky wasn’t even awake yet as Meadow rubbed her eyes and stepped off the porch, her old cotton jacket half-zipped and her wild curls trapped under a loose scarf she barely tied.
She expected to see him. It was probably why she had been so eager to come outside a little earlier than her usual time.
Zaire had been up every morning before the birds even thought about singing, out here hitting balls like the greens were the only thing keeping him alive. Since the last time they’d spoken, there wasn’t much conversation between them and Meadow preferred it like that.
Silence made it easier to pretend he didn’t live under her skin.
She hated the way his voice pulled at her, making her crave some West Coast sun she had no business craving…hated how the air shifted when he was close, like her skin opened its eyes before she did…hated that he showed up in her dreams on nights she swore she was too tired to think about a man.
Especially when it had been way too damn long since she’d had one on top of her.
A warm one…a strong one…a man who knew what to do with his body and hers.
But the real version of him…the version standing thirty yards from her…that one was to fucking die for.
Tall with broad through the shoulders, his skin was a warm, rich brown that stole whatever moonlight was left and kept it for himself. His low cut was fresh, waves spinning tight enough to hypnotize anybody careless enough to stare. Ink climbed his forearms, bold and black lines that told stories whether he explained them or not. They wrapped his muscle, peeked out from the soft cotton of the short sleeve tee he threw on like he didn’t know what it did to a woman.
Zaire stood out on the green with his back to her, earbuds in, head nodding slow to whatever was feeding his spirit this morning. Every exhale loosened his shoulders and every inhale pulled him deeper into whatever world he retreated to when nobody else was awake.
Lord…get me together,she thought, heat tightening low in her belly.I am not about to stand out here acting thirsty over a man I barely know.
But her eyes didn’t listen, her body didn’t either.
It was too early to be horny, but this was what happened when your rose was the only thing warming your sheets.
Meadow exhaled and stepped closer. Not because she wanted to, but because her body had a mind of its own.
She stopped walking and just watched him.
He looked different in the dawn.
Focused…beautiful in a lonely way.
Meadow moved closer.
Zaire sensed her before he heard her. His hand went straight to his waistband, his face balled into a scowl.
Meadow froze mid-step. “Whoa! Whoa - what the hell?” her voice jumped up an octave.
Zaire ripped one earbud out and blinked. “Damn, Meadow…don’t be walkin’ up on me like that.”
“You pulled a GUN on me?!” Meadow was terrified, yet wondered why this made her pussy crave him even more. Shealways loved a man with that hood edge. So much so, that she truly wanted to be edged by him.
