“We got one for you too, Jonah.”
Lo nods and prances over to him. He’s still kneeling on the ground, so she takes no time to tuck the flower above his ear, nestled against a bed of sunshine hair.
“Cool,” he grins. “Does this make me part of your club now?”
“No,” Delta replies on Lo’s behalf. “Our club is only for redheads.”
“Dang.”
I can’t do this with him. I’m now incredibly grateful for the girls’ interruption because I took this—whatever this was—way too far. What was I thinking? I obviously wasn’t, at least not clearly or level-headedly. I don’t do this kind of thing, not outside the play parties where rules and structure reign supreme. Where I can enter and satiate my domination craving before returning to real life. What I’m doing with Jonah is dangerous. Against my best efforts, he’s woven into life. I can’t open the door to my body for him—again.
Well before Greg died, I told myself I’d never let in another man. Not into my house and never into my heart. No one will manipulate me like that again. I won’t be someone’s target.
That’s why I keep things separate. My feelings have no place in sex, and sex must be pushed to the outskirts of my life—accessed only by careful planning.
We spent the rest of the cleanup tour in relative silence. By the time we’re done and head for his house, I receive a notification from the electric company that our power has been restored.
Jonah loads our stuff into his Yukon while talking with Delta and asking Lo questions regardless of her silence. He responds to her facial expressions in the same way he responds to Delta’s verbal replies.
There’s a war for balance inside me. I want to shoo him away because I can’t stand the tension we created, and I want to politely thank him for taking us in during the storm.
Eventually, I’m able to shut the door on him. I stand in front of our window AC unit and close my eyes as the cold air heals me.
I was not weak for accepting his help—I did what was right for the safety of my family. Now I need to be more careful with myself.
I finish grading the online assignments from yesterday and pour a glass of pinot grigio before dinner prep. Before I can take a sip, a text message comes in.
Jonah: Kingdom: Plantae. Order: Asterales. Family: Asteraceae. Genus: Bellis (please pretend this word is in italics bc I can’t figure out how to do that in text). Species: B. perennis (also in italics). It’s native to Europe, and even though it’s technically invasive to America it likes to grow in fields. Humans and ducks can eat the whole thing but they’re toxic to dogs and horses!
Jonah:
Despite his worry, I can’t stop the bubble of pride that floats from my stomach to my throat. A stupid grin pulls at the corner of my mouth as my thumbs hover over the keyboard.
Renée: Very good.
Chapter 16
Dr. Brother, DVM
Jonah
There are too many plants on my property that could kill my animals. Thelma, Louise, and the ducks can eat just about everything, but I’m worried about the dogs and Ginger. Apparently, I have many red oak trees, and their fallen leaves are poisonous to horses. How the hell am I supposed to watch everything she eats? How can I sleep knowing there’s water-hemlock growing and it’s fatal to my babies?
That’s why after two days of walking around my land with my phone and a notebook in hand, scouring the internet, I’m here, at my brother’s veterinarian office with anxiety pits and the dogs in tow.
I walk through his office door one minute before they close and Kendra, the receptionist, is already packing up. Dane is fiddling with a file next to her.
He’s already annoyed, but my dogs chase away his frown when they jump up on him. “What are you doing here?”
“My land is full of dangerous, animal-killing plants, bro. I’m freaking out.” I throw my notebook on the counter and flip through the pages I’ve scrapbooked together with printed images of the offending plants and angry red exclamation points all over. “What do I do?”
He glances over to Kendra. “You can leave. I’ll finish up here and lock up.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” she says.
“What do I do?” I ask again once she’s gone.
“First of all”—he sighs, then tosses a small bit of treat to each dog—“an appointment would have been nice.”
