by Leah Holt
“First... That's too much info. Second, why do you guys care so much about my sex life?”
“It's not so much your sex life, but your life in general. We know it was hard to lose Max, and no one will ever replace him. But we don't want to see you cooped up in your place every day, night, weekend. We want you to realize that you're too young to spend the rest of your life alone. There are a lot of great guys in this town, and you should test the waters. You're twenty five, Kin, the longer you're out, the harder it's going to be to jump back in.”
“Fair enough, but I still have no clue what you guys are up to. And it would be nice to know what I'm walking into.”
“Let's just say, we're leading you to the help. The rest will be up to you, okay?”
“That still doesn't help, but I'm not really getting an option in this matter, am I?”
Lynn held her head high as we pulled out of my street, reaching to the radio and twisting the volume up. “Nope, now enjoy the ride!” She yelled as her short bob cut danced across her jaw.
***
Crossing my leg in the squeaky, cheap bar seat, my fingers nervously tapped the table. My friends had smiles glued to their faces, their lips curled high, resembling the taunting gleam of the Joker.
I had been trying to decipher this so called, 'ladies night,' but they weren't making it easy. Which is very typical of my two best friends. Our entire relationship Lynn and Gina were a ball of dirty ideas and crazy stunts.
And both of them were great at keeping a secret, even if their faces streamed with a devious expression.
The club, they so kindly dragged me to, was a small local bar, set in the heart of Providence. The only big city in a ten mile radius of our home town, the only big city period in our small state.
The place was actually bigger than I expected from just looking at the outside, but about as nice as you would expect from a dive bar.
The floor was sticky in random places from spilled drinks and who knew what else. A small stage was set in the back corner for local bands trying to get into the music scene, Christmas lights decorated the beams spotted throughout the open room.
I was surprised at how packed the place actually was, especially since the bar was tucked in between two larger venues. Then again, maybe this was overflow from the other places if they were filled to the max.
The spot could be pure brilliance on the owner's part.
I hadn't been to a bar in years, and the last time was one I tried to forget. I wasn't even old enough to be there, but Max knew the bouncer and he was able to get me in. It was the week before he left for boot camp, and he wanted to get me drunk because he wasn't sure if he would be deployed during my twenty-first.
Despite the fact I was eighteen, and still had three years before turning legal age to get plastered, Max insisted we take the opportunity while we could.
Always thinking a step ahead. God, I miss that man.
Well, he succeeded in his goal. I had gotten so wasted that night, that I started stripping on a pole set up for dancing, only to lose my footing. Crashing to the floor, I hit my head on the small stage, leaving a massive, golf ball-sized lump right above my eye.
And to top it all off, I threw up all over myself and three other people as he carried my stumbling body out of the place.
Maybe I don't want to forget that. It makes me smile.
“Alright, so what now? You guys have been just sitting there gawking at me forever. What the hell are we waiting for?” Spinning the straw in my glass, I bounced the ice around the inside. “You guys didn't set me up on some blind date... Did you?”
Gina waved her hand in the air, sneering with her eyes. “No, it's not a blind date” Her fingers danced in air quotation marks, as she glanced over at Lynn. “It's—”
Cutting her off, Lynn laid her hand across the table. “It's more of a date aid.”
“A date aid?” I asked, arching a single brow into my hairline.
“Yeah, exactly.”
“What the hell is a date aid?”
Before either could answer, their eyes grew to the size of the moon, heads tilting in unison. They looked mesmerized, lost in an image over my shoulder.
“What the hell is wrong with you two? What are you loo—” I couldn't finish my sentence, the words morphing into tumbling air.
Turning to follow their gaze, a broad shouldered man was walking right towards us, his muscles firmed and solid beneath his black suit. His hair was tousled in perfection, jaw hard and sharp, ready to cut diamond.
And I had fallen into the same frozen stare. The sounds of music beat around us, playing him the perfect song for his slow motion walk. I couldn't look away, couldn't shake my eyes off his wall of corded muscles.
Coming straight towards us, his lips pulled back in a sultry smile. “Excuse me, I'm looking for Kinsley. Are one of you lovely ladies her?” His strong hands gripped the trim of his suit, flaring it open for a sudden peek at the hardness beneath.
My heart skipped, lungs tensing to his statuesque build. “I... I'm...” I couldn't speak, unable to find momentum to force the sounds off my tongue.
“Hi, I'm Gina, and this is Lynn,” she said, fanning a hand to her side. “We talked on the phone, you must be Layne.” Holding her hand out, Gina batted her lashes like a hungry lioness, ready to launch herself across the table, and claim her king of the pride.
Taking her hand, Layne bent down and kissed the top with what looked like the softest lips ever. “Layne Torres at your service, Beautiful.”
Gina giggled a nervous laugh, holding his fingers for longer than she probably should have. But the man was fucking hot as hell, he'd probably set more flames to the burning inferno just by walking through the gate.
Gathering herself, Gina cleared her throat. “Um, this is Kinsley, the woman we talked about.”
Talked about? What did they talk about?
His rich brown eyes fell over me, draping my entire body in a world of warmth. My muscles shook, stomach twirling and coming alive with butterflies swarming inside. The intense gaze in his eyes flickered in the light, casting the brown in gold sparks and amber highlights.
I was wordless, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to even think straight. I sat there stone still, my lower lip jumping in small shockwaves trying to say anything. But I couldn't coordinate my lips and brain, they wouldn't mingle in the dance of speech.
“Kinsley, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Your friend here has filled me in on a little bit about you, so it's nice to finally put a beautiful face to the name.” His thick fingers coiled around my palm, lifting it to his lips.
And they were more than I imagined. They were soft, gentle, firm; the perfect lips dressing the perfect face.
Okay, what's this? Who's this?
Settling myself, I took in a slow deep breath, and forced my head to clear. “It's nice to meet you too, Layne.” My eyes darted to my friends, who looked like they were about to drool and collapse onto the table. “But my friends here, haven't told me yet exactly what is going on, maybe you can fill me in?”
“May I?” he asked, holding the back of a chair.
Lynn shuffled in her seat, pulling the chair away from the table. “Please, do.”
“Thank you.” Sitting his massive form down, he cupped his hands on the table top. “Well, to put it bluntly, I'm here for you. I'm here to help you with your little problem.”
“Problem?” I asked, eyeing Gina and Lynn. The two girls smiled, and sipped their drinks simultaneously, glancing off into the crowd on the dance floor.
“From what I understand, you're single, and looking for love. Th—”
“Wait, wait, wait,” I said, cutting him off. “Love? No, I'm not looking for love.”
“Kinsley, no one ever thinks their looking for love, but that's what they all want. Love doesn't have to be forever with someone. It can be finding out when your with the right person how to love yourself, how to love your life.”
“What th
e hell is going on? Is this a blind date? Did they tell you to try and swoon me with sweet words?”
Layne let out a deep baritone laugh, drawing his hand over his jaw. My stomach flipped with desire, skin breaking in goosebumps as his eyes fell onto my face.
“No, it's not like that at all. They told me you were single and that they were worried you'd be single forever. That's where I come in.”
“Did they tell you why I was single?” Cocking my head, I shot angry eyes at my friends.
I didn't know what the hell they were thinking, or why they would try and have the sexiest man ever come and spill romantic statements on love and life to me.
Even if he did make my mind swirl in electric sparks, and my muscles jerk to life in a way I hadn't felt in years; I wasn't looking for love.
“No they didn't, and it doesn't matter. Let me tell you what I do know, and what my role is, alright?”
“Okay, I guess,” I said, fiddling with the cocktail napkin under my drink.
I couldn't understand it, but I was suddenly really nervous. The way he looked at me, the way his voice flowed off his lips with the richness of smooth cognac.
Eyes are the window to the soul, the light that feeds our drive and yields all memories. A man's eyes are supposed to speak volumes about who they are, and his drew me in, holding me hostage with magnetic power.
He was alluring in so many ways; the way his eyes pierced my heart, the way he moved his hands as he spoke, the gentle puff of his chest as he shifted in his seat; it set my brain on autopilot.
And I couldn't stop my body from lighting up in warm desire.
“I know you're a single mom, I know you used to love going out and enjoying the world around you. I also know you hate musicals, and porcelain dolls, because you think they're creepy. And I know you have no idea on how to get a man, that's why I'm here. I'm a...” Pausing, his lip lifted to his cheek. “A dating coach, I guess is the best way to put it.” Layne's arms curled, flexing to rock, smile peeling up on one side.
“A what?” My body slumped forward, shoulders falling with the realization my friends had hired someone to help me find a man.
Seriously?!?!
“Look, I don't like labels, but I can help you with your issue. I'll work with you to help you learn what guys look for in a woman, and what you should look for in a guy. I'll teach you the cues to an asshole— to a prick— and hopefully help you find what you're looking for.”
Slamming my fingers to my forehead, I cupped my temples. “Are you fucking serious you guys? Did you really hire this guy?”
Gina leaned over, rubbing my elbow. “Kin, I'm going to be honest, you need the help. You were never good with guys since we were kids, and I just really want you to have the chance to realize there's someone out there for you. We didn't do this to be jerks, okay?”
Layne leaned back in his seat, twining his fingers together. “Kinsley, if you don't want to do this, I can't make you. But I promise you, you'll learn a lot if you let me help. But the choice is yours.”
I didn't know what to think. My friends had hired me a handyman to find a boyfriend, what the hell was I supposed to do with that?
And he's the hottest thing I've ever seen on two feet.
What the hell could he possibly teach me? Aside from how to eye fuck him as he spoke, or dream of all the naughty things he could do to me.
Oh my God...
Wait... No.
Stop, just stop.
“Kin, just try it. See what he can do for you... I know I wouldn't pass him up.” Smirking, Lynn teased the ends of her hair. “Come on, you know we would never do anything to hurt you.”
I knew deep down they were right. My experiences before my husband were not exactly perfect, and fault free. Max happened into my world by chance, and I was lucky for that. Before him I had pretty much screwed up all the other chances I had with men.
But I had always played that up to being that I had been meant for Max, and that was why nothing else worked out. Deep down, I also knew my faults.
And they didn't come without a price... It came with a lot of baggage and broken hearts.
Hot air fell from the back of my throat, a deep grunt followed, hitting the roof of my mouth. “Alright. I'll do this, what the hell could it hurt right?” Shaking my head, I snapped it up to look at Layne. “But what if I decide this isn't for me?”
Holding his palms out, he said, “Then you call it off, and we part ways. It's that easy.”
“And how do I know you're not some crazy stalker who hunts down single women?”
“If I was a crazy stalker, Kinsley, you wouldn't be seeing my face right now.” His brow arched up playfully, teeth tugging on his lower lip. “I'm a man of my word, you will find what you're looking for.”
And somehow with that little gesture, he had comforted my worries. I wasn't sure how, or why I suddenly trusted what he was saying... But I did.
Maybe it was the sternness of his voice, maybe it was the confidence he emitted as he spoke, the certainty that he was a man who knew what he was doing.
Maybe I just knew my friends were right, and it was time for me to get back out there.
I wanted to be ready to let go of the life I wanted, and finally embrace the life that had so unkindly been tossed at my feet.
Either way, I couldn't spend my time wrapped up in the dream that one day my husband would come home and my world would go back to the way it was.
The way it should have been.
It's time to move forward, Kinsley.
“Okay, I'm in.”
I hope I'm making the right choice.
Let this be a deal with the devil I won't want to give back.
Chapter Three
Layne
“So you're telling me you're from the board of directors with the teacher's association?”
The man behind the desk held his hands flat against the wood, eyeing me like a criminal. I couldn't blame him entirely. I was a stranger who had invaded his school unannounced, and uninvited.
As far as a criminal goes, that was only as a teenager. I grew out of that stage a long time ago. A few stolen cars had gotten me into some trouble, but I left that in my past. Money and the wrong people had power over my life at one point, and I definitely wasn't going to go down that road again.
I controlled my life now.
But he didn't need to think that way, not if I could play my cards right. I knew if I wanted to get in, I had to be convincing. Which was one thing I was very good at.
“Yes, Sir. Mr...” Tilting up his name plaque, I said, “Mr. Clint, it's vital that you let me do my observations as required by the state of Rhode Island. You certainly wouldn't want this to come back and bite you in the ass, excuse my language, would you?”
Tilting his head a hair, his brows quirked. “How come no one informed me of this pop in today? Why wasn't I made aware you would be here?” Folding his hands together, he brought his chest closer to the ledge of the old, withered desk.
There was intimidation in his demeanor, a powerful man, set in charge of a world within itself; Mr. Clint had an ego that went well beyond his name plaque.
And he wanted me to feel it.
This school really needs some new supplies. A man of power shouldn't sit behind a desk that was designed in the sixties, and had probably been there since it came off the line.
Even with me biting my tongue to stay calm and neutral, I wanted to knock him off his golden stallion. Intimidation... That didn't work on me.
I was the intimidation.
“Sir, does the health inspector announce to restaurants that they're coming in?” Holding up my hand, I stopped the answer resting on the tip of his tongue. “No, they don't, because that gives them too much time to clean up any messes. What I'm doing is the same.” Grabbing the folder I brought, I flipped through blank pages of nothingness, staring at imaginary words. “If you want me to leave, I will. I'll just place a check mark here in the refusal to cooperate box. T
he board will discuss further action with you at another date.”
Is he going for it? I wondered, eyeing him under hooded lids.
The principal of Hopkins Elementary shifted in his seat, his beady little eyes trying to read mine as they darted back and forth. “What did you say your name was?”
“Layne, Sir. Layne Torres.”
“Mr. Torres, I don't want to cause any issues with the board, I just would've expected some notification of this, that's all.” Leaning back, his fingers danced across his bottom lip. “How long is this inspection, and how many teachers are you observing today?”
“Just one to start, we don't want to overload the teachers or the children.” Lifting a finger, I bounced it in the air. “And we've realized that by doing it this way, teachers increase their attentiveness to the classroom by a margin of thirty percent.”
Am I good on my toes or what?
Pressing his fingertips against his jaw, the balding man drew in a slow breath. “Really? Thirty percent?” Shaking my head sternly, I closed my folder. Mr. Clint held his hand as a tight smirk raised across his lips. “Mr. Torres, welcome to Hopkins Elementary, I hope you enjoy your experience today. I believe you'll find that Ms. Davidson is one of the top kindergarten teachers in the state, and we are proud to have her as one of our own.”
Gripping his hand with firm fingers, my lips formed an excited smile. “I'm sure I will, Sir. The board appreciates your cooperation.”
I knew he'd fall for it.
Maybe I should've gone into acting?
“Please, follow me, I'll lead you to her class.” Principal Clint, stood up, and he was much shorter than I'd expected. By the way he sat in his chair, and puffed up his chest, I would have thought he came close to eye level on me. But he wasn't even close, he lacked at least four inches, reaching five foot six—tops.
Looking down on the top of his head, I hadn't noticed before how intense his combover truly was. The thin patch of hair was stretched to its limits, tugged as tightly as it could be across his scalp. The suit dressing his oddly shaped body looked like it came off an already buried corpse, made from cheap fabric with cracked leather patches stitched around the elbows.