“Baloney.” She put her hands on her hips and might have been glaring at him. The sun had just disappeared behind the mountains throwing them into shadow so it was hard to tell. “It won’t take more than forty-five minutes to an hour. You’d lose a couple of pages but those kids are giving up valuable instruction time. Because their teacher believes it’s important. I do, too.”
Damn it. Those words turned out to be heavy artillery because, for reasons unclear to him, he didn’t want to disappoint her.
Maybe just one more try to back her off. “Now isn’t a good time.”
“You could live anywhere you want, but you settled in this town.” Brewster didn’t butt into a conversation unless he had something to say. Apparently he did now and it wasn’t good. He wasn’t smiling.
“That’s just an address,” he countered.
“Not in Blackwater Lake. If you’re bleeding or on fire folks call 911. For anything else they pitch in when asked. They share what they’ve learned, what they know.”
“What if they don’t have anything to share?”
“You’d be surprised. Won’t know unless you try,” the old man said. “And you try because being neighborly is a way of life here. If you don’t get involved, the magic of this place doesn’t work.”
Jack kept his mouth shut even though he wanted to ask, “What magic?” The grizzled, practical old guy talking about it at all was enough to get his attention. If he said no now it would look like he had a heart the size of a sunflower seed. He knew when he’d been outflanked. “Okay. I’ll talk to them.”
Erin smiled, a cheerful, satisfied smile. As if she’d known he would give in. “You won’t regret it, Jack.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” The look on her face irked him so he added, “I’ll do it on one condition.”
“Oh?”
“I’ll talk to the class, but you’re coming with me.”
She saluted, being a complete smart-ass. “Yes, sir.”
Her job was to take care of him—body, mind and spirit. His body was pretty happy what with being well fed and the spectacular sex. She’d managed to touch his mind, too, in ways she didn’t even know. But he had his doubts about the spirit thing.
Still, he figured the job description included having his back while attempting to communicate with teenagers.
God help them.
And him.
* * *
Erin wouldn’t exactly say Jack looked afraid to go into the high school classroom, but it was a good bet that facing heavily armed enemy combatants was a more comfortable fit. The two of them stood just outside Kim Miller’s room while teenagers swarmed up and down the hall, hurrying to their last class of the day.
After Jack’s less-than-enthusiastic agreement to show up, Erin had contacted the teacher and they’d agreed Friday would be best. With the weekend staring them in the face, the kids were restless anyway and they’d probably learn more from Jack. Judging by his dark and brooding expression, he didn’t agree.
“Take a deep breath, Jack. The kids are going to love you.”
“Why?” He shot her a don’t-give-me-that-crap look. “It’s too late for a personality transplant and no one has ever accused me of being charming or approachable.”
“Doesn’t mean you aren’t.”
“Seriously?”
“Never too late to turn over a new leaf.” She met his gaze, trying to infuse him with some of her optimism. The dark look in his eyes didn’t falter. “Come on. Embrace the moment. You’re just here to talk to them.”
“About what?”
“Didn’t you prepare some notes?” Now she had a knot in her stomach.
“No.”
Oh, boy. The hall was much less crowded now. In a few minutes there would be some kind of signal to let students know they’d better be in their seats. And Jack had nothing ready for the class he would face. She was his research assistant/book coach. This situation was the equivalent of thirty seconds left on the clock in a football game, just enough time for one or two plays to win the game. It came down to coaching and she had to give him something.
“Okay, this is basically the same principle as writing what you know.”
He stared at her. “Not even close. Two different things.”
“What I mean is, start out by telling them your personal story. You know yourself.” Better than anyone, she thought. “Talk about you.”
“That will take fifteen seconds.”
“Oh, please.” She rolled her eyes. This man was complicated. She could talk about him for hours. “Give them the high points. Maybe five minutes or so. Then open it up to questions.”
“And if there aren’t any?”
“You thank them for not hitting you with spitballs and we leave. It will give us more time to poke through the thrift store for Halloween costume ideas.”
“What?”
“We’re shopping.”
“Torturing teens isn’t enough? You want to torture me, too—”
A loud signal broadcast over the school’s public address system interrupted his protest. “Saved by the bell,” she said.
With the kids in their seats, Kim saw them in the doorway, smiled and motioned them to come in. “Class, I have a surprise for you. The test will be on Monday. Anyone who didn’t study just got a reprieve.” There was a collective sound of relief. “We have a guest speaker.”
Erin nudged him farther into the room, where about twenty teens sat in several rows. The teacher’s flat-top desk was in the front with the chalkboard behind her. They walked over and Erin introduced him to Kim.
“I’m a big fan,” she said, gushing.
“Thanks.”
In a low voice Erin said, “I’m going to sit in the back. You’ll be great.”
“I’ll get even with you,” he muttered.
She slipped quietly to a chair against the rear wall, trying not to be a distraction, but there was no worry about that. The guys stared at him in awe and the girls were smitten at first sight. It was like being in the same room with Indiana Jones.
“Everyone,” Kim continued, “this is Jack Garner, author of the phenomenally successful book High Value Target. Has anyone read it?” All but one or two hands went up and there was an enthusiastic murmuring as hero worship ratcheted up. “Good. I thought you all might enjoy hearing what Mr. Garner has to say. So, take it away, Jack.”
“Thanks.” As the teacher moved to the side, Jack stood alone.
He could have looked more uncomfortable, but Erin couldn’t see how. Still, the students didn’t know him like she did and wouldn’t see it.
“Okay. Here’s the deal. I figure you get lectured to enough.” He glanced at Kim. “No offense, Mrs. Miller.”
“None taken.”
“So, I didn’t prepare notes. I’m just going to tell you a little about myself then open this up to questions.” He thought for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “I was raised by a single mother and never knew my dad. Not a very good student. Didn’t have a lot of options beyond high school so I joined the army. After leaving the service, I wrote High Value Target and you all know the rest.”
He wasn’t kidding about his life story taking five seconds. But that was such a skeletal description of him and Erin had been around teenagers long enough to know they wouldn’t let him get away with not filling in some of the blanks. When he asked for questions, again nearly everyone in the room raised a hand.
Jack looked surprised, but relaxed a little. He pointed to a dark-haired girl in the front row. “Tell me your name, then ask your question. That goes for all of you.”
“Mackenzy Bray,” she said. “And this is my question. Mrs. Miller told us there are a lot of options for us when we graduate. I’m wondering why you picked the army.”
“The choice was kind of made for me. It’s true I was a bad student. But I left out the part about being arrested. Not proud of it and don’t recommend the experience. Before you ask, it doesn’t matter what I did. The important part is the judge went easy on me because I was just under eighteen and it was a first offense. He made it clear it better be the last and said I lacked structure and discipline. Strongly recommended joining the military in whatever branch would take me. That turned out to be the army.”
“Did you like it?” A boy in front of Erin blurted out the question.
Jack grinned and you could almost hear every female heart skipping a beat. “Speaking of discipline and not following orders.”
“Sorry.” The kid’s voice was sheepish. “My name is Blake Hoffman.”
“And you want to know if I liked it since there was some arm-twisting to get me there.” He nodded. “The answer is that no one was more surprised than me when I took to the life and was good at it.”
A girl’s hand went up and he pointed to her. Erin recognized the teenager from Office Supplies and More. “Glenna Smith, Mr. Garner—”
“Call me Jack.”
“Jack,” she said shyly. “The bio in your book said you joined Special Forces, Ranger Battalion.”
“Yes. That’s how much I liked the life. I wanted to be the best of the best and serve my country.”
“So why retire from it?” she asked.
“Good question.” There was a guarded look in his eyes. “I just knew it was time. Next question.”
“Did you always want to be a writer? Russ Palmer,” the boy added.
“No. In fact I wasn’t much of a reader until I needed something to do during downtime. And there was a lot of it. A buddy gave me a book and I was hooked. Read everything I could get my hands on.”
“Why did you start writing?” Kim shrugged. “You already know who I am and this is my classroom. Rank has its privileges.”
He grinned, then half sat on a corner of her desk. “To be honest, along with the positive of joining up, the fact is soldiers train for war. There are some things no one can prepare you for. It leaves a mark. I started a journal and really liked putting words on paper. That evolved into a fictional character with a story.” He shrugged. “Against all odds it was published.”
“And a success,” Kim said.
Erin saw a shadow cross his face and knew it was doubt, the intangible enemy dogging him now. The expression was completely opposite of the way he’d looked when talking about being a soldier. He’d once told her it was all he was good at, but she disagreed. And he couldn’t see the way he was connecting with these kids. Until you’d stood in the front of a classroom and witnessed teenage eyes glazed over with boredom, you couldn’t appreciate how involved these kids were now.
She was very surprised that he opened up to her about his rocky youth, but chalked that up to progress in their working relationship. Today he’d related some very personal and not very flattering details about himself to these kids—strangers—and it was a huge step for him. For them it was a lesson that there was no single path in life to success. Good information for them to have. He’d been honest about the bad stuff so his message had a profound impact.
“What’s your next book about? Chloe Larson,” she added.
Erin’s stomach knotted again. The last female who mentioned his next book got the cold shoulder. He was touchy about the sequel and wouldn’t discuss it. She held her breath, waiting for him to respond. Or walk away without another word as he’d done to Lucy Bishop.
He glanced at the class. “You might remember from the first book that Mac doesn’t have a job. And he has a limited skill set. It’s either law enforcement or private investigation.”
“Which one does he pick?” the girl persisted.
“What do you think?” he asked.
She thought for a moment. “He liked the military, so I believe he’d become a cop.”
“A case can be made for that,” he said. “But Mac’s going into the private sector. Too many rules in police work.”
“There are a lot of similarities between you and Mac.” That was from Glenna. “Do you break the rules, Jack?”
His gaze met Erin’s over the heads of the kids and somehow she knew he was remembering the two of them ending up in bed with tangled legs and twisted sheets. Since they’d both ignored the implied guiding principles of a working relationship, that made them equally guilty of breaking the rules.
He smiled, a mysterious expression on his face. “Let’s just say you have to know and understand the rules before breaking them.”
“What does that mean—”
The bell sounded and the kids groaned. She caught murmurs of disappointment because some of them still had questions. That had the ring of success to Erin’s way of thinking.
“Always leave them wanting more.” Kim laughed. “I’m quite sure that’s the first time any of us were sorry to hear the last bell on Friday afternoon. Class, let’s give Jack a round of applause. If you’re nice, maybe he’ll come back and talk to us again.”
“Count on it,” Jack said.
The sound of hands clapping was instantaneous and enthusiastic. He lifted a hand to acknowledge them, then moved to the back of the classroom, where Erin stood waiting. After putting his hand at the small of her back, he quickly ushered her out the rear door before anyone could slow him down with another question.
“That went well,” she said, trying to keep up with his long strides.
“Depends on what you mean by well.”
“You really connected with them.”
“That and a buck will get them a soda.”
“You underestimate yourself, Jack.” She glanced up at him, the tight mouth and tense jaw. “You have a lot of wisdom to pass on. It was enlightening for them to know that the choices they make have consequences—some good, some not.”
“Yeah, I’m just a real role model.”
“You’re determined not to believe that so I’m not going to waste my breath. But I’ll tell you this and I believe it with all my heart—books give you the power to reach people.”
“Right.”
“They picked up on the fact that Mac has a lot of you in him. Through your characters and the truth in your words, you can inspire anyone to do whatever they set their mind to.”
His pace slowed and he dropped his hand. For a moment he met her gaze, then the corners of his mouth turned up. “Good try. But I’m still not ready to let you read everything I’ve got.”
“I think what we have here is the lesser of two evils.”
“What?”
“Reading your book or the thrift store.”
“Never thought I’d say this without a gun to my head, but let’s go shopping.”
Chapter Eleven
“So, you’ve made up your mind about going to the community Halloween party.” Jack glanced over at Erin in the jeep’s passenger seat before driving out of the Blackwater Lake High School parking lot. Go, Wolverines, he thought as they passed the mascot displayed on the marquee.
“What makes you jump to that conclusion?” she asked.
“Because we’re going to the thrift store where Brewster told you to look for a costume. That implies you’re planning to go to the party.”
“I am,” she confirmed. “It’s like Brewster said—being neighborly is a way of life. So, I want to be a good neighbor. At least while I’m here.”
He kept forgetting that she was leaving. So much for watching his six. He’d better be more vigilant about protecting his perimeter or there would be hell to pay. He’d managed not to kiss her again, which wasn’t easy. But necessary. Kissing would lead to sex and he had no doubt that would be as excellent as last time, but no way was it the smart move.
“
So why am I shopping with you?” he asked.
“Because we’re already here in town. But if you have things to do, we can go back and get my car.” She looked over. “Why? What did you think? That I was going to try and convince you to go to the party?”
That’s exactly what he’d thought. “Not if you’re smart.”
“Oh, I’m smart.” Her tone was full of brash confidence. “And I’m still going to make a case for why you should go.”
Jack couldn’t wait to see what her strategic approach would be. “This is going to be good.”
“I don’t know about that, but I agree with Brewster. It’s important to support the community where you live. To give back and be a part of it.”
“You don’t live here,” he reminded her. And himself.
“For a little while longer, I do.” She was quiet for a moment, probably bringing in reinforcements. “I’ve always lived in a good-sized city and Blackwater Lake is different. Special. It’s actually possible to know everyone in town and they’re people worth knowing. Your friend Danny Potter was right. This is the best place in the world. And Brewster is right, too. The magic doesn’t work if you don’t get involved.”
Damn. That was some serious ammunition she’d hit him with. “Roger that.”
“So, you’re going to the party?”
“I’ll take it under advisement.”
“You won’t regret it, Jack.
Although she was right that he didn’t regret talking to the high school class, he wasn’t so sure about this.
A few minutes later he pulled into the thrift-store parking lot, a stand-alone building on the outskirts of Blackwater Lake. It looked like a barn and probably had been once, but not now. The outside was painted red with white trim. There was a sign visible from the main road that said all donations welcome. All proceeds went to the Blackwater Lake Sunshine Fund.
That was right up Erin’s alley. He didn’t know for sure, but wouldn’t be surprised if Sunshine was her middle name.
He parked the jeep, noting that there were quite a few cars in the lot. That meant a lot of people inside. Super. They exited the car and approached the wide open door.
A Word with the Bachelor Page 13