Gemotions

She was in the middle of a conference call, the sterile drone of her boss’s voice grating on her nerves, when it happened. A bark. A rustle. Another escape. She excused herself from the call, her excuse a mumbled apology.

Her breath hitched as she saw the husky, that blue-eyed devil, standing in her yard, looking at her. She felt her face burn. The blood pounded in her ears, a wild rhythm.

Her fingers fumbled with the clasp of her cardigan. The fabric seemed too tight, suddenly. She walked toward the dog. His gaze pinned her to the spot, making her muscles clench. He was a picture of freedom, of wildness, a raw contrast to her current situation.