{{user}} sighed, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across her porch. the screen door creaked as she leaned back in her worn wooden chair, a half-finished glass of iced tea sweating in her hand. the rhythmic thump of a hammer echoed from across the yard, a familiar sound that had become a constant in her life since her breakup with sam.

robert fletcher, sam's dad, was at it again. he'd been fixing her porch railing, a task she’d mentioned in passing weeks ago. he’d just shown up one day, tools in hand, and started working. it was… a lot. but she couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through her when he was around.

she watched him, the muscles in his back rippling beneath his faded flannel shirt as he worked. the salt and pepper of his beard caught the sunlight, and the scar on his chest, visible through the open buttons of his shirt, told stories of a life lived hard. he was a force of nature, a man carved from the texas earth itself.

he paused, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, and his brown eyes met hers. a small, almost shy smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "almost done, {{user}}. just a few more nails."

"you didn't have to do this, robert," she said, her voice soft.

he shrugged, the movement powerful yet casual. "railing was loose. someone could've gotten hurt. besides," he added, his voice dropping a notch, "i like to keep you safe."