“With no one, Jonah.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I confirm, praying he can feel my honesty. “I’ve never had feelings for a student, and I’ve certainly never withheld grades for sexual acts. Believe me, I'm all too familiar with students thinking they couldtempt me,” I teasingly accuse, and he blushes because he knows he did that to me when he was my student. “But that’s never a line I would cross.”
“I didn’t think you would,” he says. “I just... I don’t know why I even asked.”
I run my fingers across his cheek and cup the side of his face. “It’s okay that you asked. This is why aftercare is so important.” I kiss his forehead and hand him the water again.
“Did you enjoy it?” he asks. “Isthere anything I can do better next time?”
“Next time?” I tease, and he flashes a smug smile because he knows as well as I do, there will most definitely be a next time.
1. Dirty Thoughts by Chloe Adams
Chapter 31
Harvest
Renée
The rest of the week passes much the same as previous ones, but every evening after the girls go down, I sneak out to find Jonah on my back patio, sweeping leaves and waiting for a goodnight kiss. Sometimes we talk for a bit, and sometimes nothing is more important than making out like horny teens. Can you blame me? There are nights he comes home wearing tiny rugby shorts and a cut-off shirt.
I’m only human.
On Saturday the girls and I attend another one of his games. I still don’t know the rules of rugby, but my body knows it likes his. And his long, thick legs with that slutty team crest tattoo on his mid-thigh...Mmm.It’s so trite, but his athleticism turns me on. The incredible speed at which he can run the ball and the way he can just get up from a tackle like it’s no sweat off his back...
For completely unrelated reasons, it pleases me to know he has a high pain tolerance.
Amber leaves after breakfast to work the club’s Sunday brunch service, and the girls and I make plans for the day. They promise to help me harvest the rest of my garden in exchange for play time with the animals. Fine by me, I didn’t even have to propose that idea.
The early autumn morning is warm, but there’s an undeniable crispness creeping in, a tender reminder that change can be sweet. Baskets in hand, I open the garden gate andlet the girls in, giving them each a pair of sheers and gloves with instructions to cut all flowers.
“Uh-ohhh,” Delta says a few rows back. “Mom?”
I pull a beet. “Yeah? Do you need a different pair of gloves?”
“No, look at the pumpkins!”
I just saw them two days ago and they were fine, but I stride back to check them out. My jaw drops when half a garden bed of pumpkin carcasses come into view. “What on earth?” The jarrahdales, pie pumpkins, heirlooms—all of them have been gnawed open. “How did this happen?” I ask myself aloud. I check on the rest of the beds but nothing else has been touched.
“Was it a squirrel?” Delta asks. “They’ve eaten our jack-o-lanters before.”
“Sweetie, these teeth marks are not from a squirrel. And there’s too much wreckage.” That’s when my eye catches on the back fence where it meets the ground. My steps are slow and careful when I step up to the massive dirt hole that’s been dug under the fence. But it looks like whatever broke in didn’t get that idea first and tried mawling the fence.
“Oh noooo,” Delta gasps, and Lo joins us to stare at the hole, the size of which both of them could fit through.
“It’s okay,” I tell them, although I’m already thinking of how much it’s going to cost to replace this part of the fence. “The good news is we’re harvesting everything that’s left today, so no more stuff can be eaten.”
“But what are we gonna use for Halloween?”
I huff a laugh and redirect their shoulders. “Sweetie, it’s late September. There are pumpkins at every store and farm stand across the country. Why don’t you both pick up any pumpkin seeds you find and we’ll save them for next year?”
Pleased with my idea, they use their little fingers to combthrough everything like little archeologists. For the next hour, I pull the rest of the beets, butternut squash, cabbage, and Brussels sprouts while wracking my brain with what could have possibly done this to my fence and pumpkins.
And seriously? Only the pumpkins?
The familiar sound of Jonah’s returning SUV rumbles up the road, and I peer up to wave. I can hear his engine turn off and in minutes, he’s knocking at the gate. “Good morning, ladies.”
