The muted sunlight coaxed her from sleep. She felt so rested, calm, and relaxed. She stretched and reached across the bed for him. The bed space beside her was empty. Where could he be? Rising from the bed, she peeked out into the backyard. Ah! Up and motivated early, he was watering the young garden they had just planted together, at his new home. The sight brought ideas to her head, so she slipped on a pair of bike shorts and cropped T-shirt, and padded down the stairs and outside.
As she approached him he had his left hand on his hip, the other directing the spray over the back of the garden. He wore only short jean cutoffs and an old, faded lavender T-shirt; Lord only knew how he could make those old clothes look so good. His hair was still mussed from sleep. Her arms scooped up under his, hands resting on his shoulders, her cheek warmed by the spot on his back where the morning sun had peeked through the trees.
“Hello.”
“Well, hell-o! What are you doing out here?”
Her hands slid slowly down his chest. “Oh, I just came out to say good morning.” Hands continue down and into his front pockets. “Good morning.”
Some hello! What red-blooded male wouldn’t want to be greeted like this? “You know,” he began as he glanced over his shoulder at her. “I really should water these before the sun gets too hot.”
Fingers circling, circling, ever wider. “Do we always have to do what we should do?”
“Well...” No other persuasion was really needed.
One hand traveled up again, over his shoulder blades, down his arm. She played with his fingertips as her lips feathered his. The hose slid to the ground, unnoticed. Clasping his hand, she led him away from the early morning heat into the cool shade of the house.
When he returned to the backyard some time later, the garden was nearly washed out, and the patio was becoming a pond.