Free WORTHY, Part 1 by Lexie Ray

Jonathan had more of a flair for—cookies, bars, pies, cakes, muffins, and more. And it turned out that he was pretty handy in places other than my kitchen.
    Jonathan, inexplicably, knew his way around a toolbox, could tinker with things, and actually constructed a working grill out of some old metal parts he found in the barn.
    “You live here, don’t you?” he laughed as I studied the metal with some suspicion. “Why don’t you know what you have in your own barn?”
    “I’ve salvaged a lot of things from the woods,” I said. “And I’ve stored even more. I can’t remember every little thing I squirrel away.”
    “Well, now we can have barbecues,” he said, patting the ramshackle but functioning device fondly.
    The first steaks Jonathan cooked on it were delicious—better than anything I could do on the stove or in the oven.
    With Jonathan’s extra pair of hands around the place, I could work on projects I’d always wanted to do but didn’t have the time or resources for. With his help, I expanded the garden, working hard to till the soil to the same quality as the rest of the plot. Then, we made flowerbeds all around the cottage, planting my very favorite seeds.
    “And what are you going to do with even more flowers, missy?” Jonathan teased, putting his hands on his hips. “You’re not going to know what to do with yourself when these start growing, are you?”
    And the more time I spent with Jonathan, the happier I was. He was a true joy to be around, always excited and joyful when he was working on something he was interested in, cheerfully pleasant even if it was an unpleasant task, like unclogging a toilet or working outside in the heat. His memories remained out of his reach, however, and he tried to put on a brave face about it. I knew it pained him.
    A stifling heat wave settled over the countryside, and it felt like as soon as I got up from my bed, I started sweating. It was hard to even get ourselves to leave the shade of the cottage to work outside in the swelter. We carried heavy bucket after heavy bucket to keep the garden and the new flowerbed properly watered.
    But it felt like we lost as much water from our bodies as we hauled buckets of across the property in the sweat that ran down our skin and soaked our clothing.
    “Is there anything we can do to get out of this heat?” Jonathan groaned as we sat in the grass in the shade of the barn—me, as always, keeping him on my right side—and watching the chickens get their exercise. They seemed as listless as we did, pecking at the dry ground with nary a cluck among them.
    “Walk in the woods?” I offered. “There’ll be plenty of shade.”
    “Only if it leads to a swimming pool,” Jonathan said. “ Or a water park.”
    “You know, it does lead to a pool of sorts,” I said. “I usually go fishing there, but I think it’s too hot to be anywhere other than the water. There’s just one problem.”
    “What’s that? Is it far away? I’ll walk wherever and for however long you tell me to as long as you promise we’re going swimming.”
    Jonathan looked hot and a little bit manic, and it made me smile. Cooling off in the pool by the river would be a much-needed respite from the sticky heat of summer.
    “We don’t have swimsuits,” I said.
    “How do you usually go, then?” Jonathan asked, cocking his head with no small degree of interest.
    I blushed heavily. “Well, no one’s ever there,” I said. “I usually go without, um, without clothes.”
    “As nature intended,” Jonathan said admiringly, giving a nod of approval. “I’m in. I won’t peek if you won’t.”
    I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll be wearing at least my underwear,” I said. “A bra and panties are practically a bathing suit.”
    “Think of how uncomfortable that’ll be, though, putting your dry clothes over your wet underwear and walking back after we’re through,” Jonathan said. “You might as well just skinny dip. That’s what I’m