“I was just having fun. No need to be so touchy.”
“No.” As I apply a little more pressure, a bead of sweat trickles down his brow. “There’s no need foryouto be so touchy.”
My pulse thunders in my ears, and as he trembles under me, I love that the power has shifted. It’s just a shame it took gardening shears on his balls for him to see me as a human and not an easy lay.
“I don’t know what century you’re living in, but the idea that I’m a single mom and therefore ‘put out’ disappeared a long time ago. Same as your haircut.”
“Momma?”
Noah’s distressed voice brings me back to reality. I’d love nothing better than to cut off this asshole’s balls, but I have a son to consider.
I release the gardening shears, and Chad jumps away from me, rubbing his crotch.
“You’ve put grass stains on my new pants.” He seems as outraged at the ruin of his designer pants as he does by the almost loss of his balls. “I’ll have you fired.”
Fear grips me, but I don’t let him see it. If I lose this job, my business will be gone. The Huntingtons have sway in the town. It would ruin me.
“Try it,” I say with more confidence than I feel. “The contract is tight, and I’ve got a witness.”
He glances at Noah and smirks. “A toddler.”
“No.” I pull my phone out of my pocket. “I was dictating notes when you arrived. I’ve recorded the entire thing.”
“You’re lying.” But he seems unsure.
“Am I?” I tap at my phone, pressing buttons quickly and keeping my face down so he doesn’t see that he’s right. I wasn’t recording anything, but he doesn’t know that.
He lunges for the phone, but I hold it out of his grasp.
“I just emailed the file to myself, so even if you physically attack me to destroy this, there’s still a copy.”
His face crumples into a scowl.
“You wouldn’t dare.”
I shake with fury, though it masks deeper emotions—shame that he touched me, guilt that I didn’t help the situation by wearing short shorts today and bringing my child to work. That maybe I’m to blame for working here on my own with my body on display.
There are too many emotions brimming inside of me, and I want to scream at him. I want to walk off the job and tell the whole world what an asshole Chad Huntington is.
“Momma!” Noah’s cry is more urgent, and I glance down at my son. With his bottom lip wobbling, he reaches for me. I scoop him into my arms, and he buries his head in my shoulder.
I can’t walk off the job. I have a son to provide for. I can’t risk my business because some entitled asshole got handsy. It’s not the first time I’ve been felt up, and it won’t be the last. I refuse to let it derail my business.
I take a deep breath and meet his gaze. “I don’t want trouble. I just want to work.”
He glares at me for a long moment, then nods. Without another word, he turns and strides up the lawn.
I let out a long, slow breath.
“Why are some men assholes?” I shake the adrenaline off and rub my face in Noah’s dark curls, breathing in the scent of cut grass and baby shampoo.
I think of Ryan, a decent man, and my heart feels heavy.
“You’re going to grow up to be a decent human,” I mutter to Noah. “You never touch anyone unless they say it’s okay.”
He looks at me with a serious expression, as if trying to decipher my words. It’s never too early to teach kids about consent.
“We have cookie?”
