Sometimes things happen out of the blue and you just know fate is at work. That’s what this is. It’s that moment you’re walking down the street and suddenly your steps falter because you see this man, this Greek Adonis that literally takes your breath away. 

I’m used to being the girl that’s unseen. I’m five foot six inches and I have curves in all of the wrong places. I’m okay with it, and even with the extra curves I like who I am. The one thing I love most about myself is my wavy, chestnut hair and deep brown eyes. I may never be a super model, but I wouldn’t want to be.

The man I’m looking at now could be a supermodel. He’s that hot. But you can tell that’s not his lifestyle. He’s more at home in faded jeans than the latest fashions, plus he’s working with his hands. Big, beautiful hands that make me tingle just from looking at them. I really hope what they say about big hands is true… And a man looking like that, you just know he has magical fingers.

His shirt is off, and his body is slick with sweat. It’s clinging to him, leaving his skin shiny and wet from working in the sun. My gaze zeroes in on a small droplet that is sliding down his throat. I have the urge to run my tongue against it and taste the salty flavor of him.

Instinctively I know it will taste good. He would taste good. I shake off the thought. I don’t know what’s come over me. I don’t react like this to men. There’s a reason I’m still a virgin and live a quiet life. I’m shy, and what friends I have accuse me of being terrified of life. They’re not entirely wrong. I like things organized and calm. Nothing about this man could fall into that category and I can tell that just from one look.

He has on soft, faded jeans that are ripped from years of washing, and a pair of work boots. A man’s man.  But what really draws my attention is his arms. This man’s arms really are a work of art. They’re muscular—almost chiseled—and I have to resist the urge to reach out and touch them.

I look up and he’s smiling at me.

Oh, shit. He saw me staring.

My eyes travel the length of his body, while I’m mentally kicking myself. I hope he at least doesn’t see me drooling. When my gaze makes it to his face, his smirk pretty much says it all. He not only knows I’ve been checking him out—he’s enjoying it. He even flexes his muscles. Oh god, I’m heated now. I might be tanned, but I know I’m blushing. I also know that he can’t miss the fact I’m embarrassed; I’m as red as a tomato. 

I start walking again and he slowly makes his way to me. I do my best to not look his way. If I can just continue walking, maybe he’ll stop coming my way. 

No such luck.

“Hey,” he says and his voice is smooth and vibrates inside of me in parts I didn’t realize I had before. I might as well kiss my ovaries goodbye now, because he just melted them with one word. 

“Hi,” I answer.

I feel flushed everywhere. I want to play it cool, but the minute I looked at him, that option flew out the window. I wring my hands together nervously and I can feel my heart hammering against my chest.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

I shouldn’t like that he calls me sweetheart. It shouldn’t affect me, but it does. His voice is almost tender when he uses the endearment and I instantly know that I’d do anything to make sure he always calls me that. I do my best to shake off this spell he seems to have me under. I need to remember who I am and what this is.

I’m a girl who couldn’t hope to keep this man’s attention and this is… Well, I don’t know what this man is, but I know he’s not for me. Still, now that he asked my name my nerves kick into overdrive. I start mumbling to myself trying to get the words out. 

There’s a reason I don’t have a boyfriend—have truly never had one. Boys... Men make me panic. I usually spend my time around them second guessing everything about me. I’ve learned that it’s just not worth the trouble. The one or two I’ve dated are usually after one thing and when I explain I’m not ready… they disappear.

“Um… My name, uh… My name is Emma,” I stammer.

“I’m Dex. I couldn’t help but notice you almost tripped back there. Are you okay?”

“Yes,” I say meekly. Never in a million years would I think I’d meet a man like him. Besides a body that makes a woman think of sex, he has sandy blond hair and green eyes that a girl could get lost in. All that is topped off with the most sensuous lips ever invented, and a killer smile. Yep, my panties have incinerated. 

“Thank you. I’ll just be, um…going now.” I turn to walk away, but he stops me with a touch of his hand.

My eyes drop down to his hand—to both of them. His hands are rough from work, and most women would think rough, calloused working-man hands are gross. But all I can think is how they would feel touching me, scraping and teasing against my skin. My nipples go instantly hard. When I catch him staring, seeing the way they are pebbled and pushing against my shirt, I blush an even deeper red.

“Wait…. Emma. I know I’m working and filthy right now, but I’m not about to let you walk away. How about we go out to dinner tonight? I’d like to see you,” he asks.

My heart is now slamming in my chest. It’s beating so hard that I can’t catch my breath. I didn’t expect him to ask me out. I don’t know why he did. It’s clear I’m not his kind of girl. I instantly begin to shake my head no, and I look around for a means to escape. This man is trouble.

“Let me take you out. I won’t take no for an answer, sweetheart,” he warns.

“You won’t?” I murmur, and I have no idea how he can hear my question. I can barely hear it over the blood rushing through my veins so loudly that it echoes in my ears.

“I won’t,” he answers firmly. His hand is still on my shoulder and his thumb is brushing back and forth. I close my eyes because the touch feels that good. When I open them back up he’s still staring intently at me. “Just dinner, Emma. Let me take you to dinner tonight. I need to see you again.”

Well shit. How am I supposed to say no to that? I read stories—devour them actually—about men that the author describes as alpha. I don’t think I’ve truly ever met one. I thought it was just fiction that was made up of words that no man could possibly live up to. I was wrong. Dex is definitely an alpha male. Everything about him screams dominance and… Sex. I’m so turned on that I think it’s possible I could come with just his thumb brushing my skin like it is right now. It’s probably insane to even think of agreeing to going to dinner with him. But I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.

“I guess I’m saying yes then,” I tell him, smiling timidly. I don’t know who this person is that has possessed me. Blushing, stammering, and whispering…saying yes to a stranger. 

He pulls out his phone. “What’s your number?” I tell him and he immediately calls me. “Just wanted to make sure that’s a real number,” he says with a wink. All I can think is—do women really give this man the wrong number?

“It is. I promise,” I tell him, confirming the obvious, since he just called it. I’m feeling like an idiot. I really should cancel. My brain obviously doesn’t work around this man.

“I’ll call you when I get off work tonight,” he says, and then he does something I never expected. He kisses me. Me! He kisses me so lightly, it’s almost a whisper-like sensation. It’s a tease and I instantly want more. 

“I’ll be talking to you soon, sweetheart.” 

There’s that endearment again. He’s dropped the word so easily in this brief conversation. Actually, I think he’s used it more here than I’ve heard it in my entire life. Even then, it came from my grandmother or my mom. Never a man… and never a man like Dex.

I think I’m in trouble.