Heatwave again, thought Cheri. Fall could not come fast enough. Between the extreme rains and the intense humidity, Mother Nature was almost forcing her to find religion. It crossed her mind once or twice that the end of the world was near and that she should consider taking an inventory of her life and getting her affairs in order. Affairs? Pssh, she thought with a smirk.
The smoldering, crazy heat bouncing off the granite and marble of the nation’s capital sent spikes of warmth up through her legs as she walked, unable to find shade. The torturous temperature brought out the catastrophe in people, particularly a moderately high-strung woman like her. In just a few more blocks she would be rescued, able to step into the chilly, overly air-conditioned building that held her workspace.
For her on-foot commute, Cheri wore her Converse sneakers with her slip dress. The sweater wadded up in her backpack would allow her to conform to the conservative office dress code when she arrived, as the last thing she needed was a disapproving glare from that witchy co-worker of hers, Marlene. Otherwise, the dress was something she enjoyed kicking around in on its own, on the weekends, sans the extra layer. She certainly didn’t consider it too skimpy or too sexy for public, but apparently the guys at the construction site she passed thought otherwise. A couple of them obviously found Cheri’s body stimulating, and were quick to voice their opinions and cat-calls from beneath their hardhats.
“Hey, mama!” one called out to her.
Ordinarily, she would have traveled via the sidewalk across the street, but that side was completely blocked off. She quickened her pace, kept her gaze on her feet, and reassured herself. Just a couple more seconds, and these idiots will be behind me.
She had to walk through a makeshift breezeway covered by a flimsy awning, of sorts, meant to protect pedestrians from the hazards of construction.
“Hola, mamacita,” said the vest-clad man at the end of the walkway, taking a special interest in her with his dark brown eyes below his sweaty brow.
“Mama, huh? Son, you never call,” she teased, hoping to quickly pass him.
“Oh, I’ll call all right,” he said darkly, using his flag to block her way.
She was instantly nervous, like a hapless tourist about to be snatched and death-rolled underwater by an angry alligator. Her eyes darted around and saw too many nooks and crannies, plenty of places Slob the Builder could take her and do whatever he wanted, with the noise of the drills and saws and hammers to drown out her cries. Nevertheless, she swallowed the lump in her throat, tried to play it cool, then blurted, “Whatever.”
She tried again to walk by, but as she did, without even turning to look, Cheri felt someone behind her. Her body sensed power, like the dark, intense force of a storm. Two on one? Great, she thought, they’re freakin’ out of control. Like zombies in an apocalypse. Her knees buckled. The terror grew even more intense when she felt a hand on her back.
“Go to the trailer and collect your check,” a voice said in rich baritone. “You’re fired.”
Instantly, warmth unfurled through Cheri. She knew that voice, and she knew she was safe.
“Boss, I was only teasing,” the flagger protested.
“Well, I’m not laughing, and neither is she,” Thomas barked. “Them’s the breaks, pal.”
Even though she’d been rescued yet again, Cheri still couldn’t move. Steeped in fear from the encounter and excitement over a reunion with Thomas, she was absolutely paralyzed, as if she’d stepped in some of their wet cement.
“Hello,” Thomas said, leaning around her face and smiling at her. “We have to stop meeting this way.”
“You’re always coming to my aid. Th-Thanks yet a-again,” she said, stuttering.
“You’re welcome again,” he said. “By the way, not all construction types are assholes.”
She smiled, albeit only a half-hearted grin. Yeah, right. Some of you are just hot, likable people…until you break our hearts. As that thought occurred to her, the reality of why she’d stopped seeing Thomas Graham tightened her midsection in a painful grip that made her want to throw up.
“You look good,” he said, “and it’s nice to see you. Hey, didn’t we once have a conversation about walking around this neighborhood, something about it not being safe?”
“Yeah, yeah, and I was gonna get a big giant dog, but my boss just wouldn’t let me bring one to work,” she said.
“You aren’t far. Would you like a ride?” he offered. “I’ve got my truck right over there.”
He was being quite friendly to Cheri, and she knew she didn’t have the willpower to resist him. Nevertheless, she tried to turn him down anyway. “Sorry, but I don’t get into cars with strangers,” she said, trying to make a joke of her rejection.
“Stranger than fiction maybe. C’mon, Cheri,” he said, with repressed frustration.
She ogled him for a moment. Thomas Graham was such a gorgeous man, tall and well-built, with longish, layered hair that made him look like he stepped right out of the wild, wild West. The tan skin made the cut and contours of his muscles pop even more. Of course he was just a man, just a human being, but his was the finest of all genetic configurations, and as Cheri took him all in she had to wonder if she was being unreasonable in refusing his ride, just because of their tumultuous past. It’s not like I’ve never made mistakes of my own, she reasoned.
Thomas had made his mistake in trying to straighten himself out so he could be better to her, or so he’d said. Now, she had to wonder if she was being stubborn, if she was insisting on standing on her so-called principles and holding her ground not because his actions were wrong but because, in the end, he’d hurt her. She only had a couple minutes to get to work, and he was offering to help her with that little dilemma. All things considered, she decided to lighten up.
“Yeah, sure, Thomas, I’ll take that lift. Thank you,” she said, as graciously as she could.
“Right this way, milady,” he said with a bow and a wave.
His enormous truck was parked on the street, in the construction zone, and Cheri was instantly faced with a challenge she’d forgotten about. Climbing up into the seat was no easy task, and it was even more difficult when wearing a dress. She felt his strong hands at her waist, and he lifted her like she was nothing. It was the closest thing she could imagine to being able to fly, and within seconds she was properly situated in the passenger seat and facing forward, modestly pulling her dress down. By the time he took his place by her side, she was acutely aware of the amount of skin that had been exposed in her ascent into the cab. She tugged at her hem again, trying to cover her thighs, to no avail.
Thomas reached over her and pulled her seatbelt across her lap and chest, brushing her hip with his finger as he fastened it. “Rules of the road,” he said with a wink. “Click it or ticket.”
“I can do that myself,” she said, though she didn’t mind that he’d done it for her.
“We’re in a hurry, right?” he said.
“Yes,” she said, looking out the window. The truth was that she might have gotten there quicker by walking, but she was glad to spend the time with him… even if it was only a few stolen minutes.
As he drove, she was painfully reminded that she’d broken up with him. She just couldn’t handle the fact that he was a man with a past, and she had too many insecurities of her own. Strangely enough, if anyone had ever asked her about it and she was being completely honest, she would have had to describe Thomas as the best man she had ever known, yet her only answer to why she broke up with him was simple: Because he was a bastard.
Thomas’s truck smelled of coffee with a hint of garage, a combination of citrus and oil. Never in a million years would she have predicted she would feel so sentimental and nostalgic about such an odd aroma, nor would she have believed that the neatly arranged tools on the floor or the commuter mug wedged in the cup holder would almost bring a regretful tear to her eye.
“Your coffee is calling my name. I might even break down and drink the stuff they offer us at work,” she said, scrunching up her face.
“That bad, huh?”
“Like recycled Pennzoil on a good day.”
“Well, that there’s home-brewed. Help yourself to a sip if you want,” he said. “I haven’t touched it yet, so you don’t have to worry about germs.”
Cheri grinned and picked up the cup. The coffee was strong and hot but also softened and sweetened with sugar and milk, more delicious with every swallow. Just like the driver, she thought naughtily to herself, daring a glance over at him. “Mmm. Good,” she said. “Now I feel like I could hit the gym.”
“Looks like you’ve been doing that already,” he said, eyeing her seductively.
Cheri squirmed at the compliment.
Thomas winked. “The way I see it, coffee is a good mood in a cup.” He grinned at her, then pointed out the window. “This is the place, right?”
It almost angered Cheri that he was playing so coy. Of course he knew where she worked, because he had visited her there once. Not only that, but he’d slept with one of her co-workers. Every little thing seemed to open the floodgates for more and more, and within seconds she was overwhelmed with a whole hurricane of emotions, memories, and feelings she simply did not know how to handle. Without another word, she opened the door and slipped out of the truck, feeling a little sick.
Thomas was already out and on her side, ready to catch her as she made the leap.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, and hated that her voice sounded like she was snapping. “I’m a big girl, Thomas.”
“Yeah, I know.” He smiled, oblivious to her inner torture.
Instantly, she collected herself, feeling guilty for snapping. The big, rugged man looked like a five-year-old as he stood there in front of her building, completely wounded by her outburst when he was only trying to be hospitable. She touched him tenderly. “I apologize for being…so short with you,” she whispered, her voice full of the emotion she could not hide. She looked up at him as she said it, searching his gaze with pleading eyes.
“I know,” he said softly. “Look, Cheri, I fucked up big time, and I miss you somethin’ awful. It’s driving me crazy just seeing you. Are you sure you can’t break down and let me take you to lunch or dinner or something?”
“I-I can’t,” said Cheri, shaking her head. “I just can’t. What’d you say to that guy back there? Them’s the breaks, pal.”
“Have a heart,” he pleaded.
“I do, Thomas…and it’s breaking,” she said, then quietly walked inside, sliding her arms into her sweater on the way.