Borrowed Home

Geography had been Kristin’s favorite class her freshman year, although she nearly failed. Outside the window of this third period classroom was a mesmerizing sight. The most gorgeous man Kristin had ever seen was directing the construction of the new library. His white hardhat covered thick dark hair. It was trimmed short and perfectly styled, even when he took the hat off and raked his hand through it. His muscled arms would have a gleam of sweat on them by late morning. He was tall and lean and he was obviously in charge of the project. Workers came to him with questions and even though Kristin couldn’t hear what was being said she could see that he treated his people with respect. He would point with gloved fingers at the location of what was in question or review blueprints on sawhorses but she never saw him raise his voice. He often worked with the tools on the job. That was the best. Tool belt strapped low on his hips and a hammer in hand. It was enough to make a schoolgirl loose her mind.
Daydreaming out the window Kristin rarely heard the boring bald man teaching the class in which she sat. History was boring enough but the low monotone Mr. Jenkins spoke in could put a five year old jacked up on Mt. Dew to sleep. That was one of the reasons behind her dream of being a teacher. Interesting things had to have happened in interesting places around the world but how would anyone know if they had to listen to Mr. Jenkins?
Weather permitting Kristin ate lunch under the maple tree, the one that was directly across the street from the construction site. Lori sat down next to her.
“Just what we need. More room for more boring books. If I could download a book on my iPod I might listen to it.” She thought ab...

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... I appreciate you keeping a safe distance like this. I’d hate to have a pretty girl hurt with falling lumber or careless words.” Chris smiled at them. “See you around.” Chris crossed the street, with a tip of his hat, leaving Kristen dreamy eyed.
Lori forced a reluctant Kristin away from the construction site. As soon as they turned the corner and were out of sight of the new development Kristin laid her bike down and sprawled out on the grass of someone’s yard. The lush lawn was soft and cool, a welcomed contrast to her heated skin. She took a deep breath. Had she been holding it the whole time? Never would she have believed that her dream of talking to Chris McLaughlin would ever come true. He was quite a few years older than her, at least ten. Why would he bother? Because he was that kind of a man, she decided, and he is as perfect as she imagined.