by Jill Shalvis
“No. But you’re a lot kinder than I could ever be,” Emily said, and left.
Kate didn’t feel kind. She felt a little shaken, a feeling that didn’t improve when she called for the next parents to come into her classroom for their conference and saw that among the others waiting for her was Griffin, wearing a guest tag in what she recognized as Ryan’s handwriting, complete with a smiley face alongside his name.
Eighteen
Grif questioned his sanity while waiting in the hallway of the elementary school for Kate. He’d had breakfast with Adam and Dell then spent the day working on the ranch with his dad.
It had been a good day. A damn good day. And he had no idea the last time he could have said that about a day with his dad.
He had things he could be doing and absolutely no business waiting here for a woman who’d already gotten what she wanted from him.
But there was something niggling at him. His sister had gotten into his head. She’d accused him of taking advantage of Kate, and now he kept thinking about that.
Kate had promised she was fine, had even joked about their chemistry still being a problem, but was she really okay? She wasn’t a one-night sort of woman, and now he was wondering if maybe she was just pretending all was good just to assuage his guilt. Maybe . . . maybe she was secretly pining away for him.
He watched yet another parent come out of her classroom. It had been some sort of parent-kid afternoon, and he’d seen the way Kate handled herself and others.
Effortlessly.
Every single kid got a kind word. Every parent the same. Never a lack of patience or an awkward moment.
Nope, she only exhibited those particular personality traits with him.
Which for some reason made him like her even more. He looked at his watch. She’d been on her feet all day. That had to be exhausting. And doing it while dealing with kids . . . well, that was Grif’s very own definition of hell.
But she didn’t look strained. She looked . . . sexy and adorable in yet another colorful cargo skirt, cardigan sweater, and leggings. Her hair was up, prim and proper today, and she was apologizing to one of the parents for having to wait to speak to her.
Grif watched as the parents filed out with smiles on their faces, each thinking that their kid was the shit. It couldn’t possibly be true, but Kate made them believe it.
“You didn’t like school much, did you?”
Grif looked down at Tommy. The kid was wearing jeans that were slightly too big on his scrawny frame so that when he walked, he had to hitch them up or lose them. One of his battered sneakers was untied. And in complete opposition to the bedraggled, vulnerable appearance he gave off, his hoodie featured the Incredible Hulk in all his green fierceness.
“I like school,” Tommy said.
This surprised Grif, given that Tommy never seemed to actually be interacting with anyone other than himself. “You do?”
“Yeah. The library’s full of books, and you can pick whatever you want. And there’s Internet on the computers in there so I can play games. Words with Friends is my favorite. I’d rather play on a cell phone, but my dad says I can’t have a cell phone yet, so I play it on my iPod Touch when I’m at home.” He shrugged. “And I like the brownies. And Mrs. Hinkle. She’s the cafeteria lady. She doesn’t make me eat my veggies if I don’t wanna.”
Grif nodded. “That’s a most excellent cafeteria lady.”
“You don’t like veggies either?” the kid asked, tilting his head up. As he did, his hood fell back.
There was a bruise under his left eye, and it looked new. “When I was your age,” Grif said, “I used to sneak my veggies to the dog beneath the table until I got caught.”
“You get in trouble?”
“Always.” It was the truth. Holly could have murdered someone and gotten away with it, but Grif had lived on his father’s shit list. It was just a matter of how far up or down on the list he was at any given point. “How about you?” he asked. “You get in trouble?” He paused. “Maybe today?”
Tommy went still then pulled his hood back up over his head. “No. I don’t really get into trouble very much.”
“Maybe someone caused you some trouble, then.”
Tommy didn’t answer that one. Instead he walked down the hallway and out to the playground.
Grif went with him and then crouched down to look into Tommy’s face. “He bothering you?”
“No.”
“Tommy.”
Tommy looked away. “I hit him first,” he whispered.
This shocked Grif into a short laugh. “Yeah?”
“He was picking on Gwendolyn. She’s in my class. He told her that her dad works for his dad and is a complete loser and that so was she. I looked for an adult like we’re supposed to, but there was no one.”
“And?”
“And Dustin was still too close to her, so . . . I pushed him, and then his elbow hit me in the eye when he went down.”
“That was nice of you to stick up for your friend.”
“No man left behind,” Tommy recited. “Even if it’s a girl, right?”
“Right,” Grif said.
Tommy nodded, then nibbled on his lower lip, pride gone, replaced by unhappiness. “He cried,” he whispered. “He tried to hide it, but I saw.”
Grif let out a long breath. “You have your iPod Touch with you?”
Tommy pulled it out and Grif took it. “I’m loading the Find My Friends app and putting myself on it. Next time you look around for an adult and can’t find one, you’ll be able to find me. You text me, and I’ll come. No matter what. Okay?”
Tommy looked awed. “’Kay. Will I be able to see how far I am from you? Like exactly?”
The kid was so much like Kate, with his need for the little details, Griffin’s heart clenched a little. “Yes, exactly. And let’s do this, too . . .” Grif loaded a good map app as well. “Now you can see mileage from one place to another, any place.”
“Cool!”
Just then Ashley zipped into the parking lot and honked for Tommy.
Tommy waved at her. “Gotta go,” he said to Grif. And with the resilience only a second grader could exhibit, he ran off.
Grif watched Ashley wait until Tommy had his seat belt on before ripping out of the lot, and that’s when he caught sight of the Lexus changing spots from the far north part of the lot to directly behind Kate’s car.
Someone else waiting on Kate, he thought, and then she was walking out to her car. When she caught sight of Anders, she stood at her car door while the guy approached.
Grif didn’t know what the guy was saying to her so he moved closer and was glad for it when he saw Kate stiffen. The dickwad was in her face, yelling at her about his son’s grades and some missed tournament. It wouldn’t have been surprising for her to be shaken at the confrontation.
But that’s not what happened. Nope, the curvy little dynamo’s eyes were calm but flashing a steely determination, her shoulders squared.
She wasn’t shaken or afraid. She was annoyed as hell, and it made Grif grin.
He loved her ’tude. The only thing that could improve this scenario would be for her to use one of her new self-defense moves he’d taught her to flatten the guy. Yeah, Grif would really enjoy that.
Kate glanced at Grif as he moved in close to her side, giving him a narrow-eyed look that said, Don’t you dare interfere.
Yeah, she was made of damn sturdy stuff, and she knew how to handle herself. She’d been born handling problems, and this was just that. Just one more problem in a long line of problems.
But that didn’t stop Grif from staying right at her back. He was close enough to catch the scent of her—a sexy-smelling shampoo, some sort of lemon disinfectant, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, crayons.
Trevan gave him a fuck-off-and-die look. “This is a private conversation,” he said.
“Then take it down a notch,” Grif suggested.
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
&
nbsp; “Okay,” Kate said quickly, turning to Grif and putting her hands on his chest. “I need a moment.”
Grif shrugged, easy. “Take as many moments as you need.”
“Alone,” she said.
“No.”
Kate inhaled deep. “Griffin, there’s confidentiality involved here. Give me a minute. Please?”
He stared down into her eyes, saw her courage and tenacity, and couldn’t say he was surprised. She was incredibly strong, much stronger than he’d given her credit for. Nodding, he stepped back. Not far, and not out of intimidation or hearing range, but enough that Kate gave him a nod of thanks.
Then she turned back to Asshole Dad of the Year. “I thought I was perfectly clear the other afternoon about what Dustin needed to do in order to get a passing grade,” she said. “It wasn’t a difficult task.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe Dustin doesn’t want to be a baseball star. Maybe he did this on purpose so that he wouldn’t have to play this weekend.”
Anders frowned. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your son is smart,” Kate said. “Very smart. So you tell me—why isn’t he passing?”
“Exactly. What kind of a teacher are you?”
“A good one,” she said, not taking the bait. “You should talk to him. And I hope you do it gently and with genuine compassion, because he needs that. And he needs that from you.”
Griffin stood rooted to the spot, struck by how fierce she looked standing there defending one of her kids. And not even a particularly good kid. In fact, Grif had a feeling that that was exactly why she was being so adamant.
Griffin had been that kid. But he’d never had a teacher go to bat for him the way Kate was for Dustin.
“Dustin’s going to be big in baseball,” Trevan said. “I played baseball for Arizona State; it’s in his genes. I’d have gone pro if my knee hadn’t blown out, but Dustin’s going to take it all the way. He wouldn’t screw that up on purpose.”
Yes, he would, Grif thought. If pushed too hard, the kid would do exactly that. Just like Grif had when he’d been pushed by his father. He’d ended up turning his back on both the ranch and Sunshine.
“There are things just as important as baseball,” Kate said with surprising gentleness. “Dustin’s really great with the animals. He’s especially into the S&R dog demonstrations we’ve been having with Adam Connelly at Belle Haven.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass how good he is with animals. Fix this, Ms. Evans. Or else.”
Kate said nothing, and Grif had to admire her restraint. He didn’t have any such restraint. So when Trevan headed to his car, Grif stepped into his path.
“Grif,” Kate said warningly.
He gave her a look and held up a finger. He only needed a second. Putting a “friendly” hand on Trevan’s shoulder, he leaned in like they were best buddies. “If I see you watching her,” he said, “or parking in front of her townhouse or hassling her in any way again, you’d best make sure you life insurance is paid up.”
“You threatening me?”
Grif glanced over Trevan’s head and found Kate’s eyes narrowed on his. He smiled at her.
She didn’t return it.
“Yeah,” Grif said to Anders. “I’m threatening you. Now smile at the pretty lady, get in your car, and drive away.”
Trevan did, leaving a good part of his tires smoking on the asphalt while he was at it.
“What was that?” Kate asked.
“What was what?”
“That ridiculous my-dick-is-bigger-than-your-dick presentation.”
He choked out a laugh. “Did you just say dick?”
“Would you rather I have said penis?”
“Actually,” he said. “I prefer cock.”
“Fine. What was that ridiculous my-cock-is-bigger-than-your-cock presentation?”
“Why Ms. Evans,” he said, grinning wide. “I do believe you have a potty mouth. I like it.”
Not amused, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Answer my question, please.”
Please. God, she was such a polite tyrant. “You really think that was some sort of macho display for your benefit?”
“Either that or you were peeing on me to mark your territory.”
Not exactly pining away for him, he realized, and he began to wonder if he’d been entirely off base with his worries. “I just came by to see if you were doing okay, and I saw him tangling with you.”
“I can handle myself.”
“I can see that.” And he could. It was attractive as hell.
“And why wouldn’t I be okay?” she asked.
Yeah, genius. Why wouldn’t she be okay?
She arched a brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “It can’t be because a grumpy dad yelled at me,” she said, “since you had no way of knowing that was going to happen here today. So what is it? Why wouldn’t I be okay?”
He was quickly his losing footing in this conversation. How did that always happen with her?
“Please tell me it’s not because we slept together. That you’re not thinking I might not be okay because of that.”
“Uh—”
“Because I already told you that it was one of the best nights of my life,” she said slowly, and then she went still. “Oh, I see,” she said. “I think I get it.”
Good. He was grateful she got it, because he didn’t.
“You still think I can’t handle that. The one-night thing. Is that it, Griffin?”
Yeah, he’d stepped into it, right up to his big, fat mouth. “Kate—”
“Oh no,” she said. “Don’t you Kate me.” She hitched her bag farther up on her shoulder and turned to her car.
Walk away, Soldier. Take your losses. Instead, he asked the question now haunting him. “How did you know?”
“How did I know what?”
“That Dustin doesn’t want to play baseball. How did you see that?”
She turned back, some of her temper appearing to fade as she searched his gaze.
“He’s a little punk,” he went on, needing an explanation. “It’d have been so easy for you to dismiss him, not really deal with him, just give him his detention or whatever and put him out of your mind to concentrate on the better-behaved kids, the ones who want to be here.”
Her eyes held his. “I don’t usually take the easy way out, Griffin.”
No. No, she didn’t.
“And anyway, when you’ve been a teacher for any amount of time,” she went on, “you learn to read kids. Or anyone, really. So it was no great mystery. A kid that age isn’t all that complicated. There isn’t a big, long list of things that could be making him act out like that.”
“But you put baseball at the top of the list.”
“It was a guess,” she admitted.
“A good one,” he said. “A smart one. No one else would have seen that.”