Whoa. Short, dark hair; playful brown eyes; strong, chiseled jaw, and full, kissable lips above a strong muscular chest; tantalizing six-pack abs; and a trail of soft, dark hair leading from his navel down to a pair of shorts hanging dangerously low on his hips. Showing her just enough to make her drool.
She was officially staring. Ogling a perfect stranger from the bike trail. She was supposed to be enjoying a leisurely ride through the park on her way to Sunday brunch with the girls. Instead, she was mentally undressing (not that there was much left for him to take off) this perfect (with a capital P) specimen of man playing touch football with his friends.
The men broke from their huddle to start the next play. Of course, her hottie is the quarterback. Any other position would be less than perfect. Oh goodness, he’s bent over getting ready to start calling out those numbers and words that make no sense to her. His butt looks downright delicious. She shook her head trying to erase the sight of his hind end from her mind.
Crash!
While her eyes were closed, she managed to run her bicycle right into a park bench. Fortunately, there was no one sitting on it at the time. Unfortunately, the crash had made enough noise to catch the attention of the football players. And, she had landed square on her butt in the grass. She was sure she could sense the grass stain already forming on her shorts.
She looked up just in time to see Mr. Quarterback running towards her. Her cheeks instantly flushed bright red. Oh great, one of the most humiliating moments of her life, and it was witnessed by, quite possibly, the handsomest man on Earth.
Despite her utter embarrassment, she found herself being hypnotized by the melodic movement of his muscles. It was like she was watching a slow-motion movie filmed just for her. Then it dawned on her. He was running in her direction because she had just made a complete fool of herself!
“Hey.” He spoke to her! This could not be happening to her! His brown eyes were capped by brows furrowed with concern. “Are you okay? That was a pretty bad fall.”
He reached a hand out to her. Mr. Quarterback wanted to help her! She took his hand gratefully, but not quite gracefully. She lost her balance halfway up, and almost took him back down to the ground with her. He quickly grabbed her by both elbows and pulled her to her feet.
He asked her again, “Are you okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” She did a quick check of her limbs. Everything seemed to be in (relatively) good working order. She looked up, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. “I think I’m okay. I’m more embarrassed than anything. I feel so lame. I can’t believe I ran into a park bench.” She was rambling now, but she couldn’t stop herself. “I mean, what kind of a goon rides their bike in to a bench? Oh, I can’t believe there were witnesses to this catastrophe!”
He put his hands on her shoulders and forced her to look him in the face. His gorgeous, perfect face. She thought she was going to melt. They would find her later, a giant puddle of mush, melted by the heat of Mr. Quarterback’s gaze. Those eyes were so mesmerizing!
“Hey!”
“Hmm?” she replied, dreamily. She snapped out of her trance. Sort of. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly.
He leaned back to get a better look at her. She could feel his eyes on her, assessing her. She suddenly wanted to disappear. She was sure that whatever he was thinking would be unflattering. This was her, after all.
Wait, is he grinning now?
“You look pretty good to me.” He blushes, realizing what he’s said. “Uh, I’m Devon. I meant you look like you’re okay. I don’t see any broken bones.”
“I don’t feel any broken bones, either,” she assured him. Mustering all the confidence she could at the moment, she extended her hand. “My name is Bekka. Thanks for coming to my rescue.”
Devon reached for her hand. “It was nothing, really.”
As their fingers touched, Bekka thought she felt a spark. No, that couldn’t be. She was not the type of woman that could feel something from a simple handshake. Especially not with a man like Devon. She quickly pulled her hand back.
Devon looked at Bekka, puzzled. She was staring at her hand. So, she had felt it, too. Devon was not one to believe in love at first sight (or first touch), but he had felt something when their hands met. Something that started as a spark in his fingers, and had quickly grown into a fire deep in his gut.
Devon knew that Bekka had crashed into the park bench because she was watching his friends and him playing ball. He knew, because he had been watching her as well, out of the corner of his eye. Devon hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of her as she rode along the bike trail.
Bekka was dressed for lunch with the girls. She had on white linen shorts, and a feminine, sleeveless yellow shirt. There were ruffles following a deep v in front that showed him the slightest peek of cleavage. Her long legs ended in wedge sandals, what were they called? Devon tried to remember what his sisters had taught him. Espadrilles, yeah that’s right. Whatever they were, they made her calves (and the rest of her legs) look amazing.
Her long hair was so dark brown, that it looked almost black until the sun caught it, and he could see subtle highlights shining back at him. Bekka’s hair was long, reaching halfway down her back, falling in soft waves. He felt an unfamiliar need to run his fingers through it, and nuzzle his face in it. The fire in his belly reignited.
Devon cleared his throat. “Will you be able to make it to brunch alright?”
Bekka stared at him. Brunch? What brunch? She would rather stay with him all day. Then memory washed over her. She was on her way to a cafe to meet with her girlfriends before she wiped out. She had landed on her backside, but maybe she had suffered a concussion.
“I should be able to make it. It was just me being my usual, accident prone self.”
Devon closed his eyes and shook his head. “I think maybe I should go with you. Just in case. I don’t think I could forgive myself if anything happened to you.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine, Devon,” Bekka flushed at the sound of his name coming out of her mouth. It sounded right. “The cafe is just around the corner from here.”
“No, I don’t want to risk it.” Devon mentally smacked himself, he was sounding foolish now. “Just let me grab my stuff, and tell the guys that I’m leaving.”
He ran off before Bekka had a chance to protest. Not that him lingering would have mattered. Bekka was so stunned, she was frozen in place. Devon was going to walk her to the restaurant. She was going to show up at the restaurant with Mr. Quarterback! She waited next to her bike, looking like a goon once again, and waited for Devon to return.
As Devon walked back to his buddies, the last few minutes replayed in his mind. Maybe offering to take Bekka to meet her friends wasn’t the best idea. He had practically forced himself along with her. Well, there was no backing out now, she was waiting for him.
He quickly gathered up his shirt and duffle bag. Devon told his friends that he was worried that Bekka might be hurt so he was going to take her to her friends, so they could take care of her. His friends laughed, not believing his story one bit. He ran back to Bekka before embarrassment made him change his mind.
Oh no, Bekka thought. His friends were laughing. What had Devon told them? Probably that she was a major klutz and he was worried that she wouldn’t be able to make it the half mile to restaurant without seriously injuring herself. Spark be damned, she wasn’t going to let Mr. Quarterback charm her. Not if he was going to insult her to his friends.
Devon arrived breathless, both from the run over and the sight of Bekka waiting for him. Without a word, he took her bike from her and threw his bag in the basket.
“Which cafe are you meeting your friends at?” he asked as they started down the trail.
“M-m-michelle’s,” Bekka stammered, still completely dumbfounded by his caring, “on Pike and Anderson.”
“I know where that is,” Devon glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, “they have great food.”
“Yeah, it’s my favorite place. That’s why we’re meeting there,” Bekka dropped her head and looked at him through her thick lashes, “it’s my birthday.”
“Oh, well, happy birthday.” Devon flashed her a giant grin.
It was so dazzling that Bekka tripped over her toes. She instinctively spread her arms out to brace for the fall, but instead, her fingers wrapped around Devon’s upper arm. She could feel his muscles flex as he turned to catch her.
Devon’s breath caught when Bekka reached out for him. When he realized she was about to fall on her butt again, his heart started to race. What was happening to him? He was generally a nice guy, but this was crazy! This was beyond worrying about a stranger having a comical accident. The idea that she might ever get hurt was causing him panic.
He wasn’t used to feeling this way about anyone outside of his family. He was Devon Langley, eternal bachelor. Friday night poker, Monday night football, and 60 hour work weeks, Devon Langley. He met women on Saturday nights and said good-bye to them Sunday morning.
So how had this walking disaster affected him so badly? He wanted to make sure that she was safe, always. He didn’t like worrying that she might trip and fall again, possibly into oncoming traffic, or break any bones. Devon quickly made up his mind. He would make sure that she was out of harm’s way as much as possible. All he had to do was convince Bekka it was a good idea.
After the trauma of yet a second accident had passed, Bekka watched Devon, trying to gauge his reaction. What she saw instead was a man having a long conversation with himself. She saw panic, disbelief, anger, and then finally resolve pass through his eyes. What was he thinking? Bekka started to panic, he was probably planning his escape-trying to get away from the babbling klutz.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Bekka asked.
“Huh?” She had startled him. “Oh, I was just thinking about you. And me.”
Bekka blushed, this couldn’t be good. “Really? You didn’t have to walk me to the cafe. You could go back to your friends, if you want.”
Devon shook his head at her. “No, that’s not what I was thinking. I was wondering how a stranger can come along, out of nowhere, and make me rethink everything about how I’ve been living my life.”
“Are you sure you didn’t get sacked a little hard back there?” Bekka nodded her head back in the direction of Devon’s friends. “I think maybe you suffered a head injury.” There’s no way he could be feeling that way about her!
Devon stopped short, popped the kickstand on Bekka’s bike, and turned to look at her. “No, Bekka, no head injury.” His dark eyes were burning. “I felt something when our hands touched,” his voiced dropped an octave, “and I know you felt it, too.”
Mr. Quarterback’s voice had become very husky, it was downright sexy. Bekka was having a hard time remembering to breathe. So there was a spark, and it wasn’t just her!
“So, you’re rethinking your life?” Bekka asked him. She could hardly hide the tremble in her voice.“Is that good or bad? And, what does it have to do with me?”
He turned, and Devon started walking again, unable to look her in the face as he answered. “I’m not sure yet. This is new ground for me. I don’t know what to do about it.”
They walked in silence the rest of the way to the cafe. Devon placed Bekka’s bike in the small rack next to the door. He put his hands in his shorts pocket, and turned to Bekka.
She spoke first, “Well, thanks for making sure I got here okay. That was very gallant.” Bekka looked up at him, and opened her mouth to say more. She saw something flicker in Devon’s eyes. What was that?
She didn’t have much time to wonder. She heard him let out a soft sigh, then he wrapped both arms around her waist, and pulled her close to him. Her pelvis was pressed against his. Bekka breathed in the heavenly scent of man, sweat, and lust. Her head naturally tilted back, and Devon leaned in and brushed his lips against hers.
Bekka felt her body, and her resolve, melt away. She kissed him back, softly at first. When he realized that Bekka wasn’t going to turn him away, his kiss became more forceful, more hungry. She responded willingly, their tongues dancing between them. Her hands wound their way around his neck, and Devon lifted her off the ground.
When they finally came up for air, they realized that an audience had formed in the cafe’s window. An audience made up of Bekka’s friends. Devon put Bekka down (brought her back to Earth, so to speak), and nervously ran a hand threw his hair.
Bekka giggled at his red cheeks, and put her hands up to shield the childlike grin spreading across her face. They turned to wave at her friends, and her friends erupted into loud applause and cheers. Bekka’s face turned the same shade as Devon’s.
“I should go inside now,” Bekka said. “They’re probably going to have a million questions for me.”
Devon grabbed his duffel out of the bicycle basket, then handed Bekka her purse. “I should get going, too. I have a few things I have to get done today.” Not that I’m going to be able to concentrate, he thought to himself. Devon grabbed her hand, pulled her close, then gave Bekka one more tender kiss.
“Happy Birthday, Bekka,” he whispered into her ear. After he released her, he stepped off the curb and hailed a cab. Bekka stayed outside the cafe, waving as she watched him ride away. What had just happened? Was she really just making out, in broad daylight, with Mr. Quarterback?
“Happy Birthday, Bekka,” she whispered to herself, as she opened the restaurant door.
