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Once the car is in park, I take a few seconds to calm myself and check my hair and makeup before getting out of the Lexus. My confidence is securely in place until I remember how he left on Sunday. It was pretty clear Austin was bothered by our age difference.
Well, I’m not, and I want him to know it.
With renewed purpose, I stride up to the shared stoop where Austin is working. He’s wearing a ball cap, in similar work clothes to what he wore Sunday, his hands are dirty, and his cargo shorts stretch across his ass in just the right way.
If the sexy man notices my approach, he doesn’t show it.
Austin is on all fours, pulling dirt into a hole where he just stuck a plant. “Hmm. Dog trainer, plumber, and gardener. You are a man of many talents,” I purr.
I watch his profile, lighting up on the inside when he smiles toward the ground. Austin turns his head my way and sucks in a quick breath. I’m dressed a little differently from how he saw me last. The leggings and athletic tank are replaced with a rose-colored pencil skirt, heels, and a silk button-down. My hair lies in loose waves around my shoulders, and I have makeup on today.
Austin hops up from the ground, dusting his hands on his thighs. He seems to be having trouble knowing what to say. “You look… different.”
I blush at his stuttering praise. “Yep. I started my new job Wednesday, which necessitated a wardrobe change.”
He scans me from top to bottom, and then his eyes snap to my face, embarrassed that he did it. Austin clears his throat and says, “The look suits you. What is it that you do?”
This is the conversation I’ve been waiting for. I get to tell Austin I’m mature enough to be with an older man. “I’m a doctor, but instead of treating patients, I work for a pharmacology company to create immunotherapies for cancers and other life-threatening diseases.”
If possible, Austin is even more shocked. I nearly smile, knowing the knowledge of my career had the desired effect. I’m not one to miss an opportunity, so I say, “You never told me what it is that you do.”
“I work for a private military firm. I manage our operatives' strength, conditioning, and ground combat training.”
Now, it’s my turn to be shocked. “So, you’re Superman, then.”
Austin snickers. “Hardly, but I do have a spectacular sidekick.”
“Speaking of… where is Piper?”
“She’s in the backyard.”
While I look forward to interacting with the pup, she’s not my priority. “Ok. Well, it looks like you could use an extra set of hands. I’ll go change.”
I hold my breath and walk to the door, expecting Austin to refuse my offer. When he doesn’t, I grin all the way to my room. I’m ready to go to work in less than three minutes. I’ve changed into denim cutoffs and an older t-shirt, leaving my feet bare.
I’m back outside in a flash, pulling my hair into a messy bun as I cross the small deck. “Ok. Where do you want me, boss?”
Austin looks up from his knees, taking me in from bottom to top. “Oh fuck,” he mumbles.
I don’t even try to stifle my grin at his whispered curse. Austin shakes his head, coming out of his trance, and gestures toward a gardening mat beside where he had been just moments before.
When I join him on the ground, Austin reaches to his right for a plant with tiny leaves. “What’s that?” I ask.
“Spirea. Its leaves change colors all year, and its pink fuzzy blooms attract hummingbirds in the summertime. Since you like having coffee out here in the morning, I thought you’d enjoy the tiny visitors keeping you company.”
The innocent explanation leaves me speechless. Despite Austin’s misgivings, he thought of me when picking plants. I swallow the sudden thickness in my throat and say, “I can’t wait. When the hummingbirds arrive, you must join me to share in their company.”
Austin’s smile dims, but I refuse to let him run away again. He’s attracted to me. I want him. End of story. I clear my throat and break eye contact. “I’ve never done anything like this before. You’ll have to show me what to do.”
Though laced with double meaning, my words were taken at face value, and Austin picks up one of the small plants by its base. He shows me how to massage the plastic pot off the plant, break apart the root system, set the spirea in the hole, cover the roots, and add water. The task looks simple enough.
Starting at opposite ends, we plant the spirea in the holes he dug. We’re shoulder to shoulder and hip to hip for the last two. Austin’s tantalizing scent mixes with the fresh earth, and I close my eyes and breathe deeply.
The heady combination brings about fantasies of letting the well-built man take me on a blanket in a misty forest. I would call out Austin’s name as he thrust into me while a breeze shifts the dense canopy, creating a kaleidoscope of light on the ground.
Austin’s voice breaks through my daydream, guttural and low with desire. “Nice work, kid.”
And the fantasy shatters. Voice somber, I say, “I’m no kid, Austin. I’m a woman in charge of her life and capable of making her own decisions. I know what I want from life, where I want to be, and I’m old enough to know who I want to be with.” Then, to lessen the sting of my delivery, I add, “What I don’t know is anything about gardening.”
