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I’d noticed that George had creative substitutes for swear words, but I didn’t know why.

He looked embarrassed. “I’m trying to break myself of swearing because my little friend over there likes to mimic me, much to her mama’s horror.”

I rolled my lips in to bite back a laugh. It was clear that little Sofia worshipped the ground her uncle walked on, and the feeling was mutual. George’s eyes dropped to my lips, and I resisted the urge to lick them. What was it about this guy that made me want to climb him like a tree?

We stood next to each other while the air around us heated up, the way it always seemed to do when we were too close. George lifted one huge hand and gently tucked one of my errant curls behind my ear.

“Someday I’d like to see you with your hair down,” he whispered.

It was a weird thing to say if he wasn’t at least a little bit interested in me. He had to be interested in me, right? I couldn’t be the only one who felt this heat between us.

“Loose hair is not really factory safe,” I whispered back. “Don’t want to get my head caught in a machine or something.”

He stared at me for so long I thought for sure he was going to kiss me. Or that I’d kiss him. Despite it being a warm night, my nipples had stiffened to hard points against my shirt, desperate to be touched.

When George finally stepped away, they practically wept. So did I. I knew that us kissing would be a bad idea, but that didn’t keep me from desperately wanting it to happen.

“Have a good weekend,” he said softly. “Call me if you need help with...anything.”

“Okay.”

“You be sure to lock the door behind you.”

“Yes, Dad.”

He gave me a wink, then strode away to his pick-up truck. I watched him until he drove away. It was only after he left that I remembered I didn’t have his phone number even if I wanted to call him.

I spent a long night trying not to think about George. I’d never felt this way with someone else before, something that was so all-consuming. It was like a huge crush, but so much more. When he was nearby, I felt a sense of peace that I couldn’t quite describe, and when we were apart, part of me felt bereft.

I wasn’t one to be obsessed with a guy, and I didn’t like the way I felt, not at all. I was bound to be hurt. And yet, I couldn’t seem to turn it off.

On Saturday morning I decided to head to the market and do some grocery shopping. I figured that since I had an operational kitchen, I might as well do some cooking for a change. Eating out every day was hard on my budget – and my waistline.

As I wandered through the aisles, I was surprised by how many people greeted me by name. Apparently everyone in town knew who I was and why I was there. Ah, the joy of being in a small town. At least people were mostly friendly towards me here. That wasn’t always the case when I was working on an evaluation project. More often than not, the locals figured I was the enemy coming to kick them all out onto the street.

I filled up my basket with fresh fruit and vegetables, yogurt, pasta, jarred spaghetti sauce, and some chicken breasts. I wasn’t the best cook, but I could do the basics. I was stacking my groceries into my trunk when a familiar looking pickup truck pulled up, a hulking figure at the wheel. George parked behind me, blocking me in. He sent me a big smile as he exited his vehicle.

“Cassie.”

I swear I felt the rumble of that deep voice right in the clit.

“Oh hey, George. Doing some grocery shopping?”

I mentally rolled my eyes at myself. What else would he be doing here, Cassandra?

To my surprise he shook his head. “I was lookin’ for you, actually. I realized that I don’t have your phone number. You weren’t at Josie’s, so I figured you’d be in town somewhere.”

I suppressed a shiver of excitement and willed my voice to be neutral. “You were looking for me? Why?”

George looked up from where he was perusing my bare legs to focus on my face.

“I know you wanted to start doing the process mapping and I was thinkin’ we could work on that together. I’ve got plenty of space to spread out at my house.”

For the first time since I met him, he looked a little unsure. “I mean, if you want to. I’d like to learn how the process mapping works though. It sounded interesting when you were describing it to me the other day.”

Oh, he wanted to work, not wrap my braid around his fist as he pounded into me from behind like I’d imagined last night. I ignored the stab of disappointment.

What did you expect Cassandra? I chastised myself. A marriage proposal?