by Jeannie Watt
“Kiss me again.”
Now his shoulders went tense. “What?”
“I need to know something. Please kiss me.”
“Like some kind of science experiment?”
“Justin, please.”
He gave her a cautious sidelong look, then leaned over and planted one on her cheek. She brought a hand up around the back of his neck before he could pull away, and guided his mouth to hers. Their lips met lightly, more of a teasing touch than a kiss, but it made him instantly hard. The pressure of her hand on his neck increased, as did the pressure of her lips when she opened her mouth, inviting him to delve deeper, which he did. Their tongues touched, teased, and then the kiss became almost desperate on her part, as if she was looking for something, seeing if Justin was the guy to give it to her.
Which seemed like a really good plan at the moment.
He pushed his hands into her silky hair, splaying his fingers, holding her head as he kissed her. He hoped she could think straight enough to get the data she needed, because his thought processes were being clouded by the incredible experience of discovering just what Layla felt like, tasted like.
Why had he wasted so much time tormenting her?
Because, as she’d quite correctly deduced, he’d been a totally obnoxious teenage jerk.
Finally, about the time his hands started wandering closer to her breasts, she pulled back, lowering her chin as she met his eyes dead-on, her lower lip slightly swollen, her hair a sexy mess. It was all he could do not to pick her up and carry her off to his room to do this right.
Do what right? He was not sleeping with Layla.
Well, maybe not right off the bat, anyway.
He let out a breath, totally off his game. When had he lost control of the dynamic between them? When had she taken control? Why was she taking control?
She frowned slightly, either critically judging the kiss or getting her bearings. One of the two. Justin didn’t need to think in order to pass judgment—pretty much an unexpected ten—but he appreciated the few seconds she gave him to get himself under control.
“Assessment?” he asked softly, hoping to pass this off as an interesting bit of experimentation—which he truly hoped it was.
“Good,” she replied.
“Just good?”
She smiled, as if she wasn’t buying into his front. It unnerved him to think of his trusty shield no longer working against her.
She ran a hand over her tangled hair, grimaced as she threaded her fingers through it. “A lot of stuff has changed in my life in a short amount of time.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“I guess,” she said, falling back against the cushions and staring across the room. She brought her forearm up to rest on top of her head. “I lost my job, Justin. I got fired today.”
“Fired? I thought you were going to quit.”
“I thought I was going to threaten to quit.” She exhaled heavily, and even though her voice was even, he could see that she was fighting tears. Of course she was. Layla was not the kind of person who would take getting fired in stride. “My principal chose to play hardball. Bad woman to bluff, apparently.”
“Damn. Layla. I’m…sorry.”
“Me, too. And in case you’re wondering, no, I’m not going to take you up on your job offer.” She closed her eyes briefly, swallowed hard, and for a moment he thought she was going to let the tears flow. But she didn’t. When she turned her head slightly so she could see him, her eyes were shiny, but she was regaining control. “They stole my stuff. Or they’re going to.”
“What stuff?”
“I spent two years putting together materials and lesson plans for immersion units.”
“I don’t know what an immersion unit is, unless we’re talking water baths or deep fat fryers.”
“An immersion unit is where the kids learn English and history by becoming characters. They act out scenarios. Write about their characters and the events they’ve witnessed and taken part in. It’s very effective.”
“Sounds like a hell of a lot of fun.” More fun than the history and English classes he remembered. Or rather didn’t remember, since he’d spent a lot of time sleeping in them. Or not showing up—until Reggie found out and cleaned his clock.
“I’ve won awards for the units,” she said shortly. “And I developed them on my own time.”
“You don’t have them on computer?”
“Just some of it. Most of the lessons are only in hard copy.”
“I don’t get how they can just steal them if you developed the lessons.”
“I’ll probably get them back—after Melinda copies everything.” Layla ground her teeth together. “She can have Robert, but I do not want her using the end result of two years of my blood, sweat, toil and tears.”
Justin had a simple solution. “Let’s go get them.”
FOR A MOMENT Layla simply stared at him. She’d come here on instinct, kissed him on instinct. She didn’t feel like being arrested on instinct. “I think that would be construed as breaking and entering or unlawful entry.”
“Do you have a key?”
She did. The spare that Derek had made for her, though she had no idea how, since the key was not supposed to be duplicated.
“You do have a key,” he said, correctly interpreting her silence.
“What of it?”
“How can it be breaking and entering if you have a key?”
She made an impatient gesture. “I don’t know.”
“Have you ever gone to the school after-hours? Worked there?”
“About every other day.”
“So why not go now. Just like you used to. Get the stuff you really need and beat feet.”
“I…”
“Is there an alarm system?”
“Only on the office and the computer lab.”
“Security guard?”
“During the day.”
“Janitor?”
“Not at night during vacation. They all go on days.”
“Sounds like my kind of break-in.” He stood, ready for action, the old Justin gleam in his eye. “Let’s go. Before the trollop has time to copy them. If you tell me where to find the stuff, I’ll go in and get it.” He reached down to pick up a small spiral notebook that had a recipe written on the open page. He flipped to a fresh sheet and handed the book to her. “Draw me a map.”
She shook her head.
“No? Why not?”
“Because I’m coming with you.”
LAYLA HAD ALWAYS suspected that if she embarked on a life of crime, Justin would be involved. And he was. After much debate about what would be less noticeable in the school lot—her car or his—they drove his car to the school and parked next to the Dumpster, out of camera range. Layla knew exactly where the cameras were and what they picked up, thanks to her students. They’d also told her that the security guard didn’t always turn them on.
How on earth they knew these things, Layla had no idea, but she hoped they were right and that the cameras weren’t on tonight. Even if they were, it was too dark to make out anything.
“Just stay close to this wall and we’ll be okay until we hit the doorway. Then we’ll be on tape.” Her hope was that no one would recognize her in Justin’s oversize black sweatshirt, plus a ball cap and sunglasses. She was having a hard time seeing in the sunglasses.
Justin did as he was told, perhaps for the first time in his life, walking along the edge of the building with her, his hand lightly touching the small of her back, making her very, very aware of him.
She kept her head down as she moved onto the back step and fitted her spare key in the lock. It turned smoothly, as always, and she pushed the door open, her heart thumping hard against her ribs. Just a quick in and out, taking only what was hers.
Nothing wrong with that.
The door closed behind them and the motion sensor light in the hall came on, startling both of them. Justin touched her back again and she starte
d moving down the corridor. Her room was at the far end, across from Melinda’s, and when Layla opened the door, she could see that someone had already been going through her files. But the person, aka Melinda, hadn’t yet found the two storage boxes crammed under the back table beneath the sheets Layla used as togas for the Roman unit.
She bent down and pulled the first box out, and Justin picked it up, putting it on the table. She’d just placed her hand on it when someone walked down the hall, talking on a phone. She instantly froze, her heart hammering, and Justin crouched low beside her, pressing close in the darkness, so close she felt enveloped in his warmth. He nudged her and together they slowly eased under the counter, huddling together, out of sight.
If she got arrested, she was never going to get another teaching job. Breaking and entering a school. What the hell was wrong with her? And Justin couldn’t afford to be arrested, either. Not when he worked in a business that relied on reputation.
“What now?” she whispered, her eyes so wide they probably filled her entire face.
The guy paused outside the door and continued to talk. Layla did not recognize the voice, and figured it had to be the new night janitor—the position Ella said she wouldn’t be filling until after the students were on vacation. Layla hadn’t realized she meant immediately after.
“I cannot believe this is happening.”
“It’s happening,” Justin whispered back. He put an arm over her, drew her even closer. “But he hasn’t called the cops.”
“How do you know?”
“The call has lasted too long. And he laughed a second ago.”
Layla put her head down on her knees and closed her eyes. She felt just like a rabbit, holding very, very still and hoping the hawk didn’t see her.
“He’s leaving.”
Layla raised her head slightly, and sure enough, she could hear the guy walking away, no longer talking. She let out a sigh that seemed to come from the depth of her soul.
“What is it about you and trouble?” she asked.
“Me and trouble?” He started out from under the counter, then froze when the door opened and the lights came on. Layla nearly jumped out of her skin as Justin pressed himself back against her, pushing her into the corner, the cold cinder blocks sending a chill through her.
For the first time ever Layla was glad she had very little storage space in her room and thus a mishmash of cartons and bins under the counters. If she and Justin held very still, then maybe… Her heart was beating so hard it seemed as if the guy should surely be able to hear it.
She could feel Justin’s breath on her temple, warm and steady, as if this kind of stuff was old hat for him, which it no doubt was. Layla herself wasn’t breathing. She was too afraid.
“Yeah, that’s right, baby,” the janitor said in a low, purring voice as he pushed his trash can into the room, the wheels squeaking. “I’m going to run my tongue all the way up there.”
A nasty feeling rolled over Layla.
The janitor laughed, a low intimate sound, then picked up a wastepaper basket—one that had been empty the last time Layla was in the room—and emptied it, banging it against the side of the larger container. “Yeah, you got a point. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this on my first day of work, but who’s gonna catch me?”
Justin nudged Layla, but she ignored him, and the guy laughed again.
“Yeah? You gonna do that?”
Layla squeezed her eyes shut, wishing she could close her ears, as well. Please don’t say what that is....
The bin settled on the floor with a clatter, and then he picked up the second one, next to her former desk, and repeated the action. Melinda, or someone, had been busy in her room.
Maybe the guy was just going to empty the trash and go. He laughed again. “No choice? Oh, I think I have choices. Like where I’m going to start. I know where I’m going to end.” He shook out his broom and started making passes around the room as he told the person he was talking to exactly how he was going to get there.
It was the logical place to end, but Layla had never heard it expressed in such graphic terms before. She pressed her face into Justin’s arm. Dear heavens.
And Justin, from the way his shoulders shook every now and then, seemed to be laughing.
The broom came within inches of them and Layla drew back as far as she was able, making herself as tiny as possible. Not that the guy would have noticed even if the broom had hit them.
“Oh, stop. You’re killing me.” He pushed the debris out the door into the hall. “Baby, that is not physically possible…oh, you’ll show me?” He started wheeling the squeaky trash can out the door. “I can’t, I’ve just started shift.”
Oh, happy day. How long would it take him to clean the rooms in this hallway? Since he’d barely touched this classroom, Layla had hopes of maybe half an hour—unless he got too carried away with his phone conversation.
The lights went out and the door clicked shut.
Layla let out a long, shuddering breath, her body going limp. She’d never in her life been in a situation like this. Had never come close to breaking the law, other than running the occasional yellow light.
It was rather…exhilarating. Especially since they hadn’t gotten caught. Maybe she was beginning to understand why people engaged in extreme sports. Or why Justin and her brothers were forever doing stupid stuff with skateboards, bikes, ramps and parachutes.
But she and Justin weren’t out of this yet.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were allowed to talk like that in a school,” he whispered as he settled his back against the wall and stretched his legs out.
“He’s newly hired. Perhaps he’s not familiar with the rules.” Layla assumed a similar position, staring across the darkened room to the bulletin board on the opposite wall. She’d spent a long time on that board, creating a map of the ancient world to tie in with the Iliad. She certainly hoped Melinda enjoyed it.
“But he shouldn’t be here tonight,” Layla moaned. “He should be working days.”
“Well, sweetheart, he isn’t.” Justin put an arm around her, and instead of freezing up, as she would have mere days ago, she leaned her head against his shoulder and accepted his comfort. And when he dropped a light kiss on her hair, she actually smiled.
Maybe she had a knack for crime.
LAYLA WAS NOT FREAKING OUT. Justin had fully expected her to leap out from under the counter and surrender to the dirty-mouthed janitor, and maybe she would have, had the guy been talking about something different.
Justin glanced sideways without moving his head. Gone was the woman he’d thought was in shock before she’d asked him to kiss her. In her place was one Justin didn’t believe he’d ever met before. Well, maybe briefly in the parking lot when she’d slugged Robert.
She was scared, which showed a measure of good sense, but she was also calm. Not jittery or fretting or behaving the way he would have predicted she would under these circumstances, had anyone posed a hypothetical question. Suppose Layla Taylor got caught breaking into a school…
There was something wrong with this picture.
After a good twenty minutes of staring into space, Justin got out from under the counter and crept across the room. He couldn’t see jack out the small slit of a window, so he cautiously eased the door open a crack. Nothing to the south. He took a breath, pushed the door open a bit farther and stuck his head out. Clear to the north.
He motioned with his hand for Layla to join him, and she did, carrying one of the heavy boxes, taking small steps because of the weight.
He grimaced at her. “It’s going to be kind of hard to run with one of those.”
“I came for my stuff. If I have to I’ll drop it.” He didn’t say anything, but he could see a mutinous expression forming on her face.
“Fine.” He crossed over to the counter and hefted the other box, then came back to where she stood, wondering what in the hell she had in these containers. They must weigh about fifty pounds each.
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“Okay, let’s make a waddle for it.”
She laughed. A soft, almost roguish sound. Layla was definitely getting into this.
He opened the door and then quietly closed it after Layla had struggled out with her box. She led the way to the junction of the four hallways, under a domed skylight, and stopped. Justin eased past her and leaned out to check the perpendicular hallways in both directions. The janitor’s trash can was parked next to one of the far doors, but Justin couldn’t hear anything. He kind of hated to think about what might be happening.