Page 26 of You've Got Male

Jonah set a mason jar of iced tea on the fence, grabbed the trimming shears, and walked up to the pomegranate tree that launched the neighbor-war of all wars. And for the first time, instead of thinking about his wife, he found himself smiling over how ticked Evie had been with his basket of pomegranates. How those full lips had pursed, and those beautiful brown eyes narrowed in his direction. Man, she was as prickly as a porcupine. Jonah wasn’t usually into prickly but on her he found it sexy as hell.

Reaching over his head and placing the cutters at the crossroads of a branch, he snipped, sending leaves and debris raining down on his face.

“What the actual fuck, Dad?” Ryan said and Jonah could hear his son’s feet pounding across the slate pathway until he was right behind him.

Jonah looked at his son, who nearly topped Jonah’s six-foot-one frame. “Language.”

Ryan ignored the warning. “That’s mine and Mom’s tree.”

There was a frantic and emotional nature to Ryan’s voice that had Jonah taking a softer tone. “I’m just trimming it.”

Ryan yanked the shears out of Jonah’s hands. “No, you’re killing it! We prune it in the spring,” he said, and Jonah noticed the way his son once again used the present tense when referring to his mom. “Not a few months before winter. You’ll damage the branches, and it will die.” His son’s voice cracked on the last word.

“I didn’t know,” he said apologetically. “But I have to trim itback or we’ll get fined by the Beautification Board. And your mom wouldn’t want some stranger in her garden.”

Was there no way to push this off?No, he couldn’t afford a landscaper. One he hired and definitely not one the board brought in.

He couldn’t believe that this was all coming down to his kid’s feelings versus a stupid—and out of his budget—fine. If it hadn’t been for that meeting, the last five minutes wouldn’t have happened, and Ryan wouldn’t look close to tears.

“I don’t care about the board. It’s my tree. Don’t ever touch it again.” Ryan threw the shears on the ground and stomped down the pathway, heading for his car.

“Where are you going?” Jonah called out behind him.

“Anywhere but here.”

“I know you’re pissed, but until those grades are up, you’re staying here and studying.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He burst through the front door and slammed it loud enough for the tree to tremble.

Jesus. What just happened? It felt like every step he took forward was the wrong step. And he desperately needed to find the right direction, only his compass was malfunctioning.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the tree was so important,” Evie said from behind him, and he dropped his head to his chest.

What had he just done? Ryan clearly needed space and instead of giving it to him, Jonah had sentenced him to an afternoon in the one place that didn’t allow his son to breathe.

“Sometimes I feel like navigating Ryan’s emotions is like walking through a minefield with a blindfold on.”

He looked up and, Lord help him, Evie looked like a PTA president and the gorgeous girl next door had a love child. She was wearing a flowery sundress that flirted around a pair of legs long enough to lock around his waist. Then there were the tiny buttons that went from cleavage to thigh—buttons he wantedto undo with his teeth. Her shoulder-length hair was sleek and silky and made his fingers itch to slide through it.

A combination of animal attraction and irritation coursed through him. Animal attraction because,damn,just look at her. Irritation over the fact that his failings as a dad were no longer private. Evie must think he was parentally inept—again. Then there was her stubbornness in ignoring this surface-of-the-sun heat that arced between them.

If the way she was staring at his bare chest was any indication, she was remembering that night, too.

“My eyes are up here,” he said, because she’d been eye-ogling the happy trail that led to the forest. His pecs bounced and she jumped back with a gasp. He laughed.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You have leaves stuck to you.” She reached out and plucked a leaf off his chest, careful not to touch him, then held up the leaf as proof. “See.”

“Then why do you look like you want to stick a wad of ones down my shorts?”

“I do not!”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m here on official business,” she said primly.

Unless “official” referred to her stance on him going to town with those buttons, he wasn’t interested. “If you came with moreHOAto-dos, leave it in the mailbox. I’m kind of stretched thin at the moment.”

Evie looked at the driveway behind her, likely for an escape, but surprised him by stepping closer and extending a container of cookies that she had been holding behind her. “I come in peace.”

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