The Reluctant Cougar (Rise of the Alpha King's Heir)

Mowing

Ben woke up before dawn that day already thinking about his attack plan. He needed to show her he was responsible, a good provider, mature.

And maybe show off my body a bit, he thought, dropping to the ground to do his morning pushups, planks, and mountain climbers.

He welcomed the burn in his muscles, pushing himself farther that day than he had the day before.

Exhaling quickly, he jumped to his feet, looking at himself in the mirror.

He'd started sculpting his body at an early age. Add in his Weildon genes, and he was easily bigger than human guys his age. However, his face still held a bit of roundness, and he couldn't seem to coax the small bristles on his chin to grow faster.

He frowned at the traitorous wispy facial hair. Then he shrugged. He'd work with what he had.

Ben dressed before going to the garage. He pulled out the push-mower his dad had loaned to him a few years ago so that he could make some extra cash in the summers. The loan was on the agreement that he would mow a few yards for free--his own, Widow O'Hara's, and one of the elder's that lived one street over.

Today he was mowing those three lawns, starting with his own and ending with Widow O'Hara's.

***

Eileen was sipping her coffee when she heard the mower start in the yard.

"Stubborn old woman!" Eileen hissed, racing for the door.

Mrs. O'Hara met her at the door, "What did I do this time?"

Eileen paused, hand on the knob, "You're not mowing the grass?"

Mrs. O'Hara snorted, "You have been gone a while. Benji's done that for the last four years. I keep trying to pay him, but he won't ever take anything but a glass of tea with honey and lemon."

"Oddly specific."

Mrs. O'Hara shrugged, "I'm not complaining. I was going to ask him to trim the bushes too, though. Excuse me."

Mrs. O'Hara opened the door and walked outside.

Eileen followed her, stepping out onto the front porch and screeching to a halt.

The broad, shirtless, sweaty back in front of her shouldn't belong to someone so young.

Hearing Widow O'Hara hollering at him, Ben let go of the hand bar and turned, wiping the sweat from his forehead and giving Eileen a tantalizing glimpse of rippling muscle and underarm hair.

Why the underarm hair caught her attention she didn't know, but it sent a primitive pang through her body.

This was wrong. So, so wrong. She shouldn't be looking.

Eileen had decided to retreat into the house when Ben's eyes caught hers, and a large smile spread across his face. "Hey, Eileen!"

"Uh, hi, Benji--I mean Ben," she waved awkwardly.

What was wrong with her?

"You about ready for a break?" Mrs. O'Hara asked him. "You're looking mighty tired."

Ben nodded, wiping his brow again, "I did ours, Mr. Jansen's, and then a few of his neighbors  asked me to do theirs. This is my eighth yard this morning."

"Land sakes, no wonder. Get up on the porch. I'll make your tea. Eileen, why don't you join him."

No!

"Um, well, actually..."

"What's wrong, Eileen?" Ben called, walking towards the porch.

His lips were quirked, and he was watching her closely, knowingly.