Coming Home

“Ho, there!” A man’s voice, one she didn’t recognize. Strong hands caught her before she fell too far, yanking her upright, which was a little better, she supposed, than sporting bruises for a week from her body hitting the floor. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Sam stood up straighter. She saw her phone battery on the floor where it had come to rest against the leg of a coffee table a few feet past the man in front of her. “I’m not so sure about my phone, but I’m good, thanks.”

Smiling she looked up into a pair of gorgeous brown eyes, dark with a broken ring of gold. He still hadn’t released her arm, something she hadn’t noticed until just then. Suddenly self-conscious, she took a step back…

… and promptly slid on the same rain-slick spot on the floor.

The man caught her again. Sam started to laugh, a bit of a giggle at first, but then she threw her head back and just let go. It was all so ridiculous, the slipping, the suicidal cell phone, the handsome stranger leaping to her rescue.

Said handsome stranger, beige t-shirt clinging to his chest and shoulders, to his tanned arms as though painted on, dark hair close-cropped to hug the contours of his skull, stared at her now like she was crazy, which only made Sam laugh harder.

“You must think I’m nuts,” Sam finally got out as she caught her breath.

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Rated: PG