“I showed Micah how to drive, so it took longer to get back.”
“You couldn’t have done that another day? I had to send off the workers by myself,” Dad grumbles. “You should’ve been there for that. Was everyone’s last day after all.”
Everyone except Micah and anyone belonging to our family, that is. We’re all expected to be there again tomorrow, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
“We barely got back before dark every day for two weeks now. When was I supposed to do this?” I huff, more and more irritated that I’m being kept from my well-deserved shower. “Besides, Micah’s been working his ass off too, so I wanted to spend some time with him.”
“You can goof off when you’re back at college.” Dad heaves a frustrated sigh, “Here, we have to work hard and show people we appreciate their help.”
I grit my teeth hard enough to make my jaw ache. There’s no point in telling my dad how hard I’m working at college, how hard Micah is working too. He only sees the work that needs to be done right here.
“Yeah, well. Next time,” I manage, even if these words taste more bitter than the ones I didn’t say.
Micah, July 13th
hey
Mia gave me your number
I hope that’s ok?
I just wanted to say thank you for doing this. Like it’s been something I wanted to try out for a while
sorry I’m spamming you
I’ll stop
just wanted to reach out so it’ll be less awkward when we meet up
anyway hope you’ll have a great summer
“You seen Linden?”
I jump at the sound of Mr. Woodrow’s—Brandon’s—voice, my phone slipping from my hands and falling into the dust between us, the quiet summer air suddenly feeling heavier with anticipation.
“Fu—sorry.” I quickly swallow my curse and glance apologetically at the older man, but he merely chuckles.
“Nothing I haven’t said before, just don’t let Kelly hear you,” Brandon advises me with a slight grin. He bends down to grab my phone for me, his eyes widening when he sees the smashed screen. “Aw, shit.”
“Oh, no, it’s been like that for a few months,” I reassure him quickly as I take it from his outstretched hand and wipe it with a corner of my shirt before sliding it back into my pocket. My cheeks are burning with embarrassment over almost getting caught while texting Mike, even though I know that technically I didn’t do anything wrong. It’s not like Linden and I are in a relationship. I’m not even doing this behind his back. Hell, we’ve done everything to keep our special summer classes secret. There’s no reason for my guilty conscience, yet my cell seems to burn a hole in my pocket while I’m trying to recall Brandon’s question.
“Uhm…I think he’s upstairs? Probably studying.” I cringe inwardly at my choice of words, my mind diving straight into the gutter. However, I’m pretty sure Linden has his nose buried in a textbook right now. He’s been using every free minute to catch up on his classes since we finished the bulk of the cherry harvest last week. I should follow his example and prepare for my last year of college. Still, there’s always a distraction to be found—like Owen rubbing against my legs, eggs waiting to be collected, or Buttercup demanding a little treat before agreeing to walkback to the barn. Yesterday, Kelly showed me how to turn all those second-quality cherries into jam. How am I supposed to focus on econ instead?
I initially expected to be back in Bonham by now, so none of this would’ve been an issue. Instead, I’m relieved Linden hasn’t brought it up yet. Every day spent on the farm means sparing my wallet a little more, which I’ll definitely need. My father tried to reach me twice this week, likely wanting to discuss the generator he supposedly can’t live without. He always findssomethingin his chat groups—be it an additional generator, a hunting bow, or an overpriced course on urban survival after a nuclear disaster.
“That boy, always sticking his nose into those damn books,” Brandon grumbles. “You mind fetching him for me? I could use his help for a bit.”
“I could help!” The words pour out of my mouth before I can think about them. I don’t know what he needs Linden for, but over the past few days, I’ve noticed a subtle tension building between father and son. Those flames of annoyance don’t need to be stoked any more.
Brandon quietly regards me for a second, as if he’s unsure if I’ll suffice. Instinctively, I square my shoulders under his scrutiny, puffing out my chest a little, then promptly feel ridiculous. All those carefully toned muscles didn’t do much for me when I climbed up and down his countless cherry trees.
“The neighbor called; part of the fence broke at the far end of the pasture. We're going to have to fix it fast if we don't want any mixed breeds and a fucked-up breeding cycle. He got a mean bull who's always ready to mount,” Brandon explains as nonchalantly as if he's talking about the weather.
I, however, clear my throat when I immediately think of how Linden climbed me last night. It was our first time trying out 69, and I was pretty pleased with my progress on suppressing mygag reflex. Although I personally think we’ll need to repeat it a few more times until we manage to cum at the same time.
I shake my head to quickly chase away my filthy thoughts in front of Linden's father. “Oh, I can do that!” I state confidently instead.
“Yeah?” He raises a brow at me, so I give an enthusiastic nod.
