After soaking the pretty flowers, I gathered a whiff of fresh mulch and was a happy little camper. I tossed the tools on the front porch and dragged the hose closer. Before I went inside, I’d give the other flowers some water as well. In celebration, I grabbed my lemonade, doing a little dance. Things were finally coming together.
With the light breeze, I was more content than I’d been in a long time. Or at least I would be if I didn’t have a phone call hanging over my head.
No, I wasn’t going to think about that right now. I had other things to do including skating, something I looked forward to more than anything in the world. My freedom.
As I watered the flowers in the pots, I allowed myself to enjoy the music.
Sadly, my heart continued to thump.
I tried humming to get my mind off everything, but soon, my own voice was drowned out by a rumble.
Was that thunder?
Glancing at the sky, I shielded my eyes. No, there were no dark clouds. What the hell was the sound?
I turned toward the street, realizing seconds later the sound was coming from a vehicle. A very loud, obnoxious vehicle. Not only a loud engine, but an even louder radio playing what sounded to me like eighties hair bands.
Seconds later, a car careened around the corner going a little too fast, the thump-thumping of the deep bass matching the wild beat of the engine’s rumble. The flash of black indicated a sports car, but it was tough to tell with the sun beaming down so brightly.
While the driver slowed, something happened. Was he reaching for his cell phone?
“Don’t you dare do it.”
A bad feeling rushed into my system.
Goddamn, I hated when I was right.
Which was most of the time.
With a sudden hard jerk to the left, the driver narrowly avoided hitting two mailboxes. A jerk to the right and I also heard the squeal of brakes a couple of seconds before a flashing blur of gold hit me in the face and I watched in horror, a moment of cinematic slow motion kicking in when the front tires jumped the curb and rolled right over my new flowers and the beautiful flowering shrub, barely avoiding hitting my car before coming to a stop in the middle of the street.
While accidents certainly occurred, it would appear from what I’d seen that the idiot in the driver’s seat had been distracted by a phone call and had lost control, crushing the only smile of the day in the process.
Man, I was pissed.
Livid.
I was the level of enraged that meant the person on the receiving end of my fury would soon wish they’d never come to this areaof town. From what I could tell, there was a man driving, only I couldn’t see his face any better than he could see mine.
He also wore dark shades and a baseball hat, obviously not noticing I was standing in the middle of the yard when he threw open the driver’s door. As he stood, I was surprised how tall he was. I was standing on a slight knoll, but he still appeared much taller. At least six and a half feet.
“Damn it. Motherfucking son of a bitch. Shit. Damn. Fuck.”
The hearty string of curse words was accentuated by a husky voice, a deep baritone that if I wasn’t in such a bad mood would certainly provide some sense of arousal.
If I was that kind of girl.
I wasn’t.
In fact, I was more annoyed than I’d been in very long time. But to my credit, I kept my mouth shut, waiting and watching as the flower killer moved toward the front of his car, crouching down to inspect if there was any damage.
I managed to keep my cool, curious as to how long it would take until he noticed me. He was still cursing, albeit now under his breath, furious that there was mulch imbedded around his headlights.
While I wasn’t one to judge people all the time since I’d had enough of that while serving my time living with my parents, that’s exactly what I was doing right now.
Dissecting everything about him. From his faded jeans that fit way too snugly on his sculpted butt to the interesting tee shirt he was wearing, a garment that was at least a size too small,but provided me with a beautiful pictorial of his pectorals and muscular arms.
When he finally stood, he jerked off the baseball hat, running his fingers through his hair then shoving it back on.
