About six months earlier, his parents had died in a car accident and he'd taken over the ranch at the young age of twenty-five. Emily expected he'd always wanted to ranch, but never had a chance to ask him back then. For the two weeks she'd stayed with Uncle Nate he worked from dawn to dusk and each evening they'd check in with him, a glass of water, and some small talk. From what her Uncle told her he made a pretty good go of that ranch. Luke hadn't taken his eyes off of the ranch six years ago and the way he looked right now, he still worked too hard at it. What time he could spare, he helped Uncle Nate out in his garden.
"Thanks," at the sound of her voice he momentarily froze and each muscle tensed. He then reflexively turned and grabbed for his clothes. As he tried desperately to cover himself he nearly fell over on that near-perfect posterior. She stifled a giggle, "Don't get dressed just for me," and nearly lost the battle, "Uncle Nate just made a pot of coffee, you want a cup?" He stopped and stared at her as he held the pile of wet clothes in front of his manhood.
"Well I'll be," and he stood up a bit straighter taking his free hand to try and tame his wild main and shield his eyes, "Emmy, is that you?" The last time he'd seen her she'd looked different, way too young. Today she looked, well, all grown up. She wore a simple pair of dark leggings and a sky blue tank top with a hot pink sports bra on underneath. Her entire outfit spoke volumes about her level of fitness and left very little to his imagination making him thankful for the pile of cold, wet cloths.
"Yes. Good to," she smiled, "see you," and she toasted him with her coffee cup, "again."
"Mind?" and he motioned with his finger for her to turn around. His half-smile and slight blush triggered something deep inside her.
