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Jonah lays his hand over mine, stalling my scribbles. “I’m sorry.”
I swallow the last of my anger. “You’re going to do fine, Jonah. You’re not going to fail. I don’t think you’re capable of that.”
He brushes strands of hair off my forehead. “And you can’t live every day thinking I’m going to crash, Calla. It’ll drive you crazy.”
“I know.” It’s what drove my mother crazy, and a big part of what made her run in the end. “I guess it’ll take time, to get used to this.”
“I didn’t help today, did I?”
I shoot him a glare, but there’s no heat behind it.
He chuckles as he presses a kiss against my lips. “Any more animals hunt you down after we talked?”
“Still not funny,”
I warn. “By the way, Zeke got out. Bandit must have figured out how to unfasten the latch.”
He shakes his head. “The little shit. I’ll have to add something to stop him.”
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Tim and Sid, my mom and Simon’s resident raccoons, have gotten into the secured compost bins too many times for me to believe there’s anything that can keep a determined raccoon out. Or, in this case, in.
“So …” Jonah’s hands smooth over my thighs with affection. “How did you escape today’s goat attack? It must have been a harrowing ordeal?”
I’m smiling now. “Shut up.”
He pulls me onto his lap. “You know, I’m not used to being lectured by anyone, especially not a Fletcher.” His lips are cool as they graze my collarbone, sending shivers through my body. “Coming from you, it’s kind of hot.”
I revel in the feel of Jonah’s arms around me, my anger with him having vanished in mere minutes, as if it never existed. How ironic it is that there used to be a time when not wanting to throttle Jonah felt foreign. Now, holding even a shred of animosity toward him throws my entire world off-kilter.
“Find another way to get turned on,” I say.
“I know of a good one. It works every time.” His icy hand slips beneath my sweater, making me shriek.
“Oh my God, stop! You’re freezing!” I cackle as I fight to wriggle free. But Jonah holds tight, grinning as his fingers coast over the small of my back and slide up my spine to unfasten my bra.
His phone rings then, and Agnes’s name flashes across the screen.
“You need to answer that.”
He groans. “No, I don’t. She’s gonna yell at me.”
“Agnes, yell?” The woman is the most docile person I’ve ever met. I don’t think she’s capable of showing anger. I’ve certainly never seen it.
“In her own way.” His palm weasels beneath my bra to cup my breast, his hand still a cold shock but less so than it was a moment ago.
“Too bad. Time to pay the piper.” I grab his phone before he can stop me and, hitting Accept, hold it to his ear.
He glares at me. “Hey, Aggie … yup … uh-huh … I know …” His hand falls from beneath my shirt—the moment temporarily doused—and, collecting the phone from me, urges me off his lap. With a playful swat against my ass, he heads up the stairs.
And I breathe a sigh of relief that everything between Jonah and me is back to normal.
I take a few minutes to finish the post I was working on for Calla & Dee—about Zeke and my disturbing, possibly imaginary, animal experience from earlier—and then save and close.
On a hunch, I open The Yeti’s in-box, to see an unread email sitting at the top. When I see the subject line, I click through, scanning the details.
And let out a little shriek at the details of our first official website booking.
Chapter Fifteen
