The Sweetest Devotion

𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈.

    "Stop, you're giving me a wettie," I said sardonically.

    Cain's response was a laugh. "I'll see you Saturday night."

    We hung up and I shook away the shudders that came with the thought of alone time with that man.

    I wasn't looking forward to it, but I decided it was best to put it on the backburner as I gathered myself together and exited my suite.

    Along the way to Keith's I made a tiny pitstop at the grocery store for water since we'd be in the sun all day. It was only sixty-five out, but it was better safe than sorry.

    While I'd never really worked a day in my life, I was excited for this venture. It was only partly bittersweet when I considered those times in my youth when I'd walk barefoot in our backyard and along my father's garden holding his hand. He was a white-collar man, but I'd always admired his hobbies of gardening, and even hunting. His need to get his hands dirty.

    I'd never felt more like his daughter than I did when I pulled into Keith's driveway beside his Tahoe.

    Keith was out front when I pulled in, doing work in the plants by his front step. The sight of him gave me butterflies. To compose myself, I got out of my Lexus and quicky got busy digging in my backseat for my shopping bags. Anything other than obsess over Keith in a white tee and camo pants. The T-shirt did nothing but hug his broad back and emphasize his toned arms littered in ink. The absence of a baseball cap only brought attention to his handsome yet angry scowl.

    Music was playing from a wireless speaker I noticed as I got out of my car and grew courage to face Keith. Something told me it was old school by the rapper's cadence and the beat.

    I bobbed my head to the melody, liking what I was hearing. "Who is this?"

    It was as if my words had fallen upon deaf ears. Keith was kneeling there, squinting up me, his dark eyes taking me in slow. What more, he stood and came closer, silently appraising me even more.

    Swallowing, I stood back and watched him assess me, feeling squirmy under his scrutiny.

    It wasn't lost on me that my outfit of choice made me standout, as I had when I'd gone and purchased a couple of waters from the store. For the day's task, I wore a pair of dark gray overalls, a cream-colored long-sleeved thermal, garden shoes, and I topped it off with a floppy sun hat.

    "I...I wanted to look the part," I confessed.

    Keith bobbed his head, and I hated not knowing what he was thinking the longer he looked at me. Not knowing if I looked ridiculous. Not knowing why I cared if he thought I did.

    I lifted my arm and the grocery bag that was dangling on it. "I brought water...and gloves."

    Keith's gaze landed on the blue plastic bag in my possession. "I have water."

    "But not Waiakea water. It's my favorite." I went and pulled out a greenish-blue bottle and held it up. "It's Hawaiian volcanic water. So good."

    Keith accepted my water and mumbled a thank you, all the while stealing peeks at my outfit, and my hat.

    "So," I smiled shyly, "who is this?"

    Keith shook his head. "You don't know Heavy D?"

    The name sounded a little familiar, but I couldn't place a face. "Guess not."

    Keith turned, looking over at his speaker that was set up on his front step. "It's a station dedicated to old hip-hop and R&B." He came back to me. "Shouldn't be too much violence."