Gemotions

The heat of the day was still clinging to the air when Amelia heard the knock. It was Mr. Davies, from next door, a man known for his quiet demeanor and his perfect roses. He stood there, holding a seed packet. "Could I… possibly use a bit of your yard for a cutting garden?"

Amelia, standing in her kitchen doorway, felt a sudden lightness in her limbs. She found herself struggling to meet his gaze. Her hands, she realized, were trembling slightly.

He was a gentle man, she thought. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The way his hands, though rough, were so careful when he worked. "Yes," she stammered, feeling her cheeks burn. "Of course. Anything you need." A low hum seemed to start within her, building slowly into a feverish anticipation.