The Apple Tree (Sunday Morning, #2) (2)

“Math? Sounds like a nerd,” I mumbled.

“If you mean someone with a college degree and a good job, then yes. He’s a nerd.” Mom shot me a smug grin when I lowered the binoculars.

“Is that another reference to my job? I bet you’re glad someone cleans your room while staying at a motel. And I don’t think teachers make that much money. That’s probably why he’s a coach too.”

“Get up. Let’s see if he needs help.” Mom jerked her chin like yanking on a fishing pole with a big bass on the end of the line.

I wasn’t a fish.

“I’m not allowed to leave my room unless it’s to work, eat, or go to the bathroom,” I said with an exaggerated shrug.

“Unless your dad or I give you permission.”

“Gabby can help. I just started a new book, and I’m in the middle of a chapter.”

“What book?” She stopped at my door and eyed me through tiny, distrustful slits.

“The Bible.”

Mom returned a raised eyebrow.

I shot her a cheesy grin while slipping the binoculars into their case.

“What book in The Bible are you reading?”

“Ezekiel.”

She didn’t believe me for a second. “That’s a good one.”

“It’s not,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s rather apocalyptic.”

She narrowed her eyes and twisted her lips. I was slightly offended that she seemed so surprised by my biblical knowledge. Preachers’ daughters knew more than anyone needed to know about The Bible. Of course, Dad spent most of his time reciting Exodus and the Ten Commandments while I stashed alcohol by the creek and masturbated to sinful music.

“Gabby’s at Erica’s house. Your dad is at the church. It’s just us until dinner. I’ll meet you downstairs.”

After a reflexive grumble, I used the bathroom and pulled my dark hair into a ponytail before heading downstairs and shoving my feet into my red and blue KangaROOS with their useless pouch that I’d had high hopes for when I bought them.

“You don’t need to tell Kyle you’re grounded,” Mom said as I followed her outside.

I laughed. “Why? Because you know it would sound ridiculous since I’m an adult?”

“No, because telling everyone makes you sound whiny like a child instead of an adult.” The wind caught her brunette hair, which she’d recently grown out from a mullet to a layered wolf cut—very Princess Diana.

“I’m not whiny.”

She laughed. “You can’t even say that without whining.”

I returned to my grumble instead of anything that could sound like a whine.

“Howdy, neighbor,” Mom said as two men carried boxes into the house while the boy with dark, curly hair chased a dragonfly.

“Slow down,” I whispered to the boy as he passed me.

He stopped, brown eyes wide as if he were in trouble.

“Hold out your hand like this and hold still.” I lifted his hand out in front of him and helped him hold still. After a few seconds, the dragonfly landed on it. Then he giggled, and it flew off.

“Howdy, yourselves,” one guy said.

I turned back toward my mom, and my jaw dropped when he smiled. The nerdy math teacher had a hot friend with golden blond hair that swept along his sweaty forehead and brilliant blue eyes with tiny creases at the corners when he smiled. He set the box in the entry and lifted his shirt to wipe his sweaty face.

I may have peeked at his abs.

My mom was happily married to a man of God (except during traffic violations), so I stared at the guy’s abs long enough for both of us.

“Are you Kyle?” Mom asked because she was stupid.

Of course, he wasn’t Kyle.

There was no way that guy was a math teacher with a kid. Math teachers had pocket protectors and glasses with transition lenses, not hard abs.

“I am,” he said.

My gaze snapped from his abs to his face.

“I’m Janet Jacobson, Peter’s wife. And this is our middle child, Eve.”

“Oh, yeah. Fred told me you were my neighbors. It’s nice to meet you.” He offered his hand to my mom, and she shook it like a normal human.

However, I didn’t notice he offered to shake mine until my mom nudged me, but it was too late. “H-hi,” I stuttered, even though I wasn’t one to stutter or lose my mind over a guy.

He inspected me with a slight raise of his brows, rubbing his lips together before clearing his throat. “I’m teaching Trig and Calculus at the high school. Will you be in one of my classes?” His lips twisted like he was chewing on the inside of his cheek.

Again, my mom elbowed me.

I straightened my back and smiled with a quick inhale. “No. Uh, I graduated. I’m eighteen. An adult. No longer in school.”

And I had diarrhea mouth. A simple “no” would have sufficed. I didn’t melt at boys’ feet. But he was a man, not a boy. Still, I felt ridiculous.

“Eve wasn’t the best at math.” Mom tee-heed.

I shot her a scowl. “I was fine at math.”

“You barely got a C in Algebra.”

“It was Algebra II, and it’s because everyone thought Mr. Dillon would drop the semester final, but he didn’t. And I had a meet, so I didn’t have enough time to study.” I laced my fingers behind my back and eyed Kyle with a nervous smile.