She stood at the front door waiting for him to turn on the alarm and lock up. Rain was pouring down. She stepped forward to feel it touch her skin.
Turner watched her for a few seconds. Then he laughed at her. She was something else.
“You’ll be dripping wet.” He warned her as he searched his keys.
“Yeah, so? Have you ever felt the rain on your skin. Fully appreciate it?” Like most people Turner was brought up to despise the rain. Something that ruined plans, days, weddings. A nuisance.
He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. He stood next to her, took her hand and like her bent his head back. The drips touched his cheeks, his forehead. It made his skin tingle. She was right, it was a lovely feel.
“It’s like a hug from mother nature.” She said, turning towards him.
His hands were on her sides. He stared in her lively eyes. She moved towards him. Her lips touching his. Tasting the rain. To say she never felt this was grossly understated. She wanted him to touch her, to feel her skin, to taste her. To whisper in her ear.
They were soaking wet within seconds. Lightning in the distance made Fiona tense up.
“It’s ok.” Turner whispered. He held her tight, not sure if he was ready to let go of her. He liked the new Fiona.