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The retreat center had only been in business a few months. My father knew the woman who ran it, and she’d made sure we had the whole place to ourselves for the weekend. No telling how much extra he paid for that privilege.
The sound was getting louder, and my heart seemed to beat in time with the noise. What if he was back here? What was my plan, exactly?
My gaze landed on a bare, muscular upper body just as that thought flashed through my mind. I had no plan, but I couldn’t stop. It was like a magnet was pulling me toward the hunky gardener. So I kept walking.
He was so caught up in what he was doing, he didn’t glance in my direction, even when it felt like he should have seen me in his peripheral vision. I sucked in my stomach and squared off my shoulders, practicing the posture lessons my mother had drilled into me. If this guy found that attractive in a woman, I’d do it.
“You running away from something?” he called out when I was close enough to see the smudge of dirt on his right arm.
I took a deep breath, sucking in my stomach even farther, and nodded. “You could say that.”
He stopped working. He set down the large mallet he was holding and turned to face me, wiping his brow with his forearm. Then he looked around.
“It’s a long way to go to get away from a wedding,” he said.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him I was running away. That sounded kind of childish. But something told me to be open with this guy—that I could trust him.
“Everyone seems to think they know what’s best for me,” I said, stopping a good dozen or so feet away from him. “It’s like I don’t even get a say in my own life.”
“You can do something about that, you know.” He looked off to his right, then started toward me, those intense brown eyes landing gently on my face. “Tell them all to go to hell.”
I was gradually losing my squeeze on my stomach. In fact, all of me was going a little weak as this tall, strong man came toward me. His eyes, his lips, his jaw…everything about him turned my insides to goo.
“That easy, huh?” I asked, smiling weakly. “Right now, I depend on them financially. But I’m working on it.”
I’d gotten my degree at a parent-approved religious college near where I lived, but so far, my attempts to land work were failing. I was working as a bank teller at a branch near my hometown and considering going for my financial advisor certification.
“That’s the problem,” he said.
He stopped close to me. Too close. So close, I was having a hard time breathing. I somehow managed to keep my shoulders up, though.
Posture. I could see my mom mouthing the word as clearly as if it were happening now.
“You have to get rid of the security blanket,” he said. “That’s the only way to take your life back.”
Back? I never had it in the first place.
I laughed. “My paycheck won’t buy a tent in Nashville these days.”
He shrugged. “So move.”
Normally, my defenses would go way up. This guy knew nothing about me. But he was right. And he was hot. And somehow, looking at him, I felt safe.
“You look like the type of woman who doesn’t let anyone push you around,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest.
The challenge in his eyes sent warmth through me. It went straight to that area between my legs. I was supposed to feel ashamed about that. Right now, though, it intrigued me.
“You’re right,” I said. “They can all go to hell.”
“Now you’re talking.”
A surge of courage pushed my feet forward. And then only inches separated us. For what seemed an eternity, nothing happened. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest.
It was clear what I wanted. My heart was racing. Could he hear it? More importantly, was he searching for the words to reject me?
“Are you just doing this to get back at your parents?”
No. The answer was no. Because as good as rebelling would feel, this was bigger than that. This was a need coming from deep inside me.
