Gemotions

The hammering started before dawn, a rhythmic pulse that didn't irritate Clara, not at all. She actually found herself smiling, snuggled under her duvet. It was Mr. Henderson, putting up that fence. She knew it, she just *knew* it. She’d seen him surveying the property line yesterday, a sweat-slicked brow and the way his flannel shirt stretched across his back…

A sudden urge propelled her out of bed. She grabbed her gardening gloves, even though it was far too early to garden. Maybe she’d “discover” she needed to prune something near the fence line. Her heart did a little flutter as she imagined him, his strong hands guiding the posts.

She raced outside, her bare feet cold on the dew-kissed grass. He was already there, the sun just beginning to peek over the rooftops, outlining him in gold. Her breath caught. "Morning," she managed, her voice a little breathless. He turned, a slow smile spreading across his face.