Lustful Temptation

Seduced by a stranger outdoors. Have you ever been tempted by a stranger?

Nathan is minding his own business, planting a hedge in a customer's yard. Evidently, the owner of the property has other ideas.

Nathan's boss takes off for lunch, leaving Nathan on his own. An offered glass of lemonade by the owner turns into so much more.

The temptation of what's on offer proves too much for Nathan. Even though rain starts to fall, nothing is going to deter the lust that has grown between the two.

Nathan will be planting much more than a hedge this afternoon.

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The Pacific Northwest, it was my home. Where I was born and raised. I had been to other cities across the states, but none compared to our slice of paradise. My modest little house sat six blocks from the ocean on an island in the San Juan archipelago—Whidbey Island, to be exact.

I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

I hefted the pyramidal cedar into the trench I had dug. I only had ten more to go to complete the hedge I was working on. They were six-footers. Back-breaking work in the heat.

It was the height of summer, and the island had a Mediterranean vibe. I had been working as a landscaper since spring; my previous experience consisted of helping my mom in the yard for most of my life. I knew my local plants and what they needed to thrive.

My boss strode toward me.

"How long until you finish that, Nathan?"

"Another hour should do it."

"Good … good. I have some rhodos I need you to look at. The varieties got mixed up by the delivery driver. I need you to group them back together."

Not my favorite task: examining plants to find similarities. If I screwed up, we would know next spring when the blooms came out. The colors wouldn't match.

I stripped off my shirt and set to work on the hedge again. If anything, it was a chance to prove myself. My boss had taken a chance on me, hiring me without relevant work experience. My previous stint had been in construction, but there wasn't much call for it at my end of the island.

I had needed a change anyway. After years of hammering away, the building trade had lost its appeal. As long as my work took me outside, I was happy.

The cedars evenly spaced, I pulled off my gloves and reached for my water bottle. Next came shoveling the soil back around their root balls, with a mix of manure and peat added to ensure they would take off. I put my gloves back on and reached for my shovel.

In my periphery, a figure appeared, dressed in a long, white housecoat. He appeared to be watching me. Probably the owner of the house we were working at. At some point during every landscaping job, the owner popped their head out and spewed out a list of suggestions.

I had no say in what I was doing. The plans had been approved by the owner before we started our work. If they wanted to change anything, they would have to go through my boss.

I ignored the way he was staring at me.

"Can I get you a drink?"

The owner was at my elbow. Any closer and he would have gotten a mouthful of it as I dug into the soil. I jammed my shovel into the soil. "I have water."

"I have lemonade in the house."

I wiped the back of my hand across my forehead. That did sound nice. I looked around. My boss had taken off in his truck, leaving me on my own. He always took an hour for lunch. I had time. In addition to the lemonade, I could dig into the sandwich I had brought.

The owner reached out his hand. "Graham."

My rough hand slipped into his smooth one. Even his nails were manicured.

"Nathan."

Graham waved me toward the house. "Take a seat on the patio. I'll bring it out."

I grabbed my shirt, pulled it back on, and headed for the patio area. I found a wicker loveseat with cushions that wouldn't suffer too badly if my jeans were dirty. I relaxed into it, then rolled my eyes, annoyed with myself. I had forgotten my lunch in my truck.

Before I had a chance to get up and retrieve it, Graham arrived on the patio carrying a wooden tray with a frosty pitcher of lemonade and two glasses with ice. He set it on the table.

His gaze wandered over me. "You didn't have to do that … put your shirt back on."

I furrowed my brow, not sure if I had just been fed a pickup line. Graham was attractive in a middle-aged kind of way. In his youth, he would have been stunning. He could likely still pull whoever he wanted if he put his mind to it. And that appeared to be what he was doing.

His attention warmed me. It had been a while since someone had looked at me that way. I studied his eyes. Hunger—that's what it was—intense hunger.