Gemotions

He stood in her doorway, silhouetted against the bright afternoon. The sunlight outlined him, making him look taller, broader. She felt her breath catch in her throat, a sudden, almost painful constriction.

“Hey, uh… Mrs. Thompson? Sorry to bother you.” His voice was hesitant, the usual easy confidence missing. He clutched his hat in his hands, fidgeting with the brim. She found herself utterly captivated by the way his fingers, strong and capable, seemed to tremble slightly.

“It’s no problem, Mr. Evans,” she managed, her voice a little shaky. She felt a strange flush creeping up her neck, a heat that had nothing to do with the summer weather.

“About the elm on the line…” He paused, his gaze meeting hers. The air in the doorway seemed to thicken, charged with an unspoken energy. She felt a tingle spread across her skin, a restless awareness that started low in her belly.