Page 34 of A Little Naughty

“Fuck you,” he barks back. “What?”

“I’ll do the job. Text me what I need to know.”

“Fuck no, I’m not texting that shit to you. I’ll tell you what to do when it’s time.”

Asshole. I don’t have time for his cloak and dagger. “Fine. At least send me the address.”

I’m out the door with one thing on my mind.

The moon is a faint shadow in the sky as the sun peeks over the horizon. I roll my bike out and walk it up the driveway out to the road. Passing the yard, I notice the tulips I planted are starting to poke through the soil, and the small, green sprouts give me a sense of hope.

Rolling down the dirt road a little ways, I’m far enough out not to be rude when I kick the bike to life and take off in the direction of town.

Martha’s not awake when I cruise up to her house, and I leave my ride in the garage before snatching the brown bag and jogging up the street towards the newspaper office. I have to hurry if I’m going to beat the school kids.

When I passed the house on my way to meet Jemima last night, I noticed her flower boxes had soil in them. It only takes a few minutes to dig several small holes in each one and drop the small, garlic-clove-shaped bulbs in them. I cover them quickly with soil and give them a little press. I wish I’d brought a bottle of water, but the soil is damp enough. I have to trust they’ll take.

I wad the paper bag and shove it into my pocket. I pocket the trowel as well, backing away from the house and turning towards Martha’s when a sweet voice stops me.

“Raif? Is that you? Wait!” Jemima calls to me from the house, where I see she’s holding a travel mug in one hand and a set of keys in the other.

A little girl with curly brown hair and curious brown eyes stands beside her watching me. She must be Nikki.

My throat is tight, and I couldn’t leave this spot if I wanted to. Jemima is dressed in white cargo pants and a long-sleeved blouse with large flowers printed all over it. Her blonde hair is loose today with no hats or ponytails, and I want to slide my hands in it.

Now I know it’s as soft as it looks.

“Are you on your way to Martha’s?” She jogs up to where I’m standing and Nikki follows behind her, albeit at a slower pace.

“Yeah. I’m a little early.”

“You’ve been planting again.” She narrows her eyes at my fingers.

Fuck, she knows. “Just doing something…”I’d wanted it to be a surprise.

“Always so mysterious, Mr. Jones.” She says it like one of those girl detectives. It’s cute. “Listen, I want to apologize for Aiden coming and getting me like that last night, and being all…” She waves her hands in front of her. “Yeesh. Over-protective, big-brother vibes or whatever.”

“It’s okay.” I shove my dirty hands into the pockets of my jeans and glance at my work boots. “I get that a lot.”

“So I’ve learned.” A frown lines her forehead, and she puts her fingers on my arm. “It’s not right. You didn’t do anything to be treated that way.”

“I should’ve made you wear a helmet.” I lift my finger and slide it along the line of her jaw. “I’d never forgive myself if I did something that hurt you.”

Her skin is soft like velvet. Her lips part, and she doesn’t speak. She only stares at me blinking several times like a deer when you shine a spotlight at its face.

“You okay?” the little girl at her side asks.

Jemima shakes her head, blinking faster and exhaling a little laugh. “Yes! Sorry. I was just… um… oh! Taking Nikki to school.” Her cheeks flush a pretty pink, and she motions between the two of us. “Nikki, Raif. Raif, Nikki.”

I nod at the little girl, but she only watches me curiously.

“I’d like to keep going with our interview. I’ve got some more questions for you. Do you have time to talk some more?”

My answer is yes, always, but I gesture in the direction of the old carriage house. “I’m supposed to be at Martha’s.”

“We could do lunch?”

“We usually work through lunch and get off early.”

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