Romancing the Wallflower

by Michelle Major

  He traced one finger over the edge of the fabric, earning a whispered moan from Erin.

  “Amazing,” he murmured, and she shook her head.

  “You don’t have to say that. My body is average at best.” He’d heard plenty of women disparage themselves, mostly fishing for more compliments, but Erin made the statement like it was a well-known fact.

  “Nothing about you is average.”

  She flashed a self-deprecating smile. “Everything about me is average.”

  “No.” He placed a finger to her lips when she would have argued. “You have a gorgeous face and the most kissable skin.” He trailed his mouth down the long column of her throat, and it almost drove him over the edge when she dropped back onto her elbows, pressing her breasts high into the air.

  “The best part is that the way you look is only part of what makes you beautiful. When we’re together, I feel things I didn’t know were a possibility for a guy like me.” He swirled his tongue around the tip of her breast through the fabric of her bra.

  She moaned and he gathered her close, kissing her with all of his pent-up desire, letting her feel exactly how much he wanted her. She tugged on his T-shirt and he pulled it over his head and let it drop to the floor. Her hands smoothed up his chest, making his breath catch. His whole body pounded with need.

  He wanted to strip off her clothes and feast on her. He wanted to lose himself in the moment and take her, make her his.

  No.

  A woman like Erin would never be his. Reality came crashing down around him, and he jerked back.

  She stared at him, her gaze hazy with lust. Her breasts rose and fell as she struggled to make her breathing normal again. She sat on the edge of his counter, soft and sexy and ready for him. Hell, she had no idea how sexy she was.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, and wanted to punch his own face as her gaze clouded with doubt and then embarrassment.

  She scrambled off the counter and turned away, quickly buttoning up her blouse. “Do I thank you now?” she asked quietly, the ice in her tone cutting across his skin. “Are we even? I came to see Rhett and you gave me a little taste—” she waved her hand toward the counter “—of that. I should be grateful, right?”

  “Don’t say that.” He spun her around to face him. “Don’t make this into something it isn’t.”

  “I have a pretty good idea of exactly what this is and isn’t,” she said, her tone miserable.

  “You have no idea.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how kissing this woman had become so complicated. Sex had always been simple. Straightforward. Meaningless. The fact that he wanted it to be so much more with Erin scared the hell out of him.

  But the last thing he wanted was for her to believe he didn’t want her.

  “You mean something,” he said. “To Rhett.” He cleared his throat. “To me.”

  She bit down on her lip and he had to stifle a groan.

  “I’m his teacher,” she said without emotion. “I’m helping you manage these weeks without your sister.”

  “It’s more than that,” he said. “I like you, Erin.”

  “Enough to kiss me,” she said through clenched teeth, “but not enough for sex.”

  “That isn’t what this is about. You’re not the kind of woman I want to sleep with—”

  “I get it,” she said, blinking rapidly.

  Damn. He hoped like hell she wasn’t going to cry. He was making a total mess of everything.

  “We’re obviously done here.” She offered him a stiff little wave. “I assume it’s okay if I let myself out the front door?”

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and pulled her close. “I’m trying to give you a compliment. You deserve more than a quick roll in the sheets after an exhausting day. You’re the kind of woman who men take on dates and home to meet their parents. I told you, you’re apple pie and white picket fences. I’m late nights wrangling drunk tourists at a bar.”

  She tugged her wrist out of his grasp. “You’re a baseball player,” she said, spitting out the words like an accusation.

  “Not anymore.”

  That earned him an eye roll. “You were a famous pitcher for a major-league team. Talk about the American ideal. It’s our national pastime.”

  “I’m not good for you.”

  She threw up her hands. “Why does everyone think they know what I want more clearly than I do? My mom thinks my expectations of life are too high. My ex thinks I can’t be adventurous in the bedroom because I don’t have the body of a stripper. You want me up on some holier-than-thou pedestal.”

  “Your body is perfect,” he said, wishing he could punch whatever idiot boyfriend had made her believe otherwise.

  “Yeah,” she said on a derisive laugh. “Really hard for you to resist. But someone in this town is going to want me.” Her voice cracked a tiny bit and she sucked in a breath. “Even for one night. Hey, we’re standing above a bar. I bet I can find a guy downstairs willing to be with me.”

  She turned on her heel and stalked toward the door to his loft. “Bring Rhett to the community center tomorrow at four,” she called over her shoulder.

  As angry as she was with David, she was still looking after Rhett. Taking care of both of them, really. And David was watching her walk away to find another man.

  How big of an idiot could he be?

  He caught up to her just as she reached for the door handle.

  “Go on a date with me,” he said, pressing his hand to the door to keep it shut.

  She stilled, but it took her a minute to lift her gaze to his. “What?”

  “We can go to dinner or on a hike or whatever you want.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking me out? Is this more payback for helping with Rhett? I care about him. You don’t have to—”

  He brushed his lips across hers. “Do you always argue when a man asks you on a date?” he asked against her mouth, then leaned in to press his forehead to hers, the tips of their noses touching.

  She inhaled, her warm breath tickling his skin. “I’m not your type,” she said.

  “No,” he countered. “I’m not your type. You deserve way better than me. But I’m asking anyway. Go out with me.”

  She didn’t answer for so long he thought she might decline the invitation. He didn’t blame her. He knew what he had to offer someone like her. A whole lot of drama and baggage. It would have been smarter to have just taken what she offered earlier. Maybe he could have gotten her out of his system.

  But he wanted more.

  “Okay,” she said when he started to pull back.

  He grinned, feeling like he’d just purchased a winning lottery ticket. “I’ll call you,” he said.

  “Really?” She laughed softly. “We could just grab dinner after you pick up Rhett tomorrow night.”

  “Nope. I’m going to call you, and we’ll make a plan and it will be like...”

  “A date?”

  “Like we’re courting,” he answered, the sound and connotation of the old-fashioned word appealing to him. Thanks to the baseball groupies who had hung around the fields since high school, David had never had to try hard with women. They fell into his lap—sometimes literally.

  The idea of actually making an effort was new and strangely exciting. The thought of earning his place at Erin’s side made nerves flutter through his chest.

  “Courting,” she repeated. “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, and kissed her again.

  Then he opened the door. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

  She looked slightly puzzled, which he found adorable. He wanted to keep her guessing.

  She’d just started down the stairs when he called her name.

  “Um...” He ran a hand th
rough his hair, uncharacteristically anxious. “I hope this means you aren’t heading downstairs to look for a guy. I know you don’t owe me anything but—”

  “I’m going home. Good night, David.”

  He blew out a breath as he closed the door. What the hell was he so nervous about? And possessive? He’d never cared before about being exclusive with the women he dated.

  But it made him ridiculously happy to consider the possibility of Erin becoming his. He rubbed his shoulder as he moved through the apartment, turning off lights. It was still early compared to his normal hours, but David was tired as hell. All he wanted was to drop into his bed and dream of Erin.

  * * *

  Rhett tugged on Erin’s arm as she handed Mari Clayton, the program director for the Aspen Foundation, her grant paperwork the following afternoon. It was just after six, and the other kids who’d come for tutoring and after-school activities had been picked up already. David was running a few minutes late so Rhett had been playing with Lego blocks while Erin began the meeting with the woman she hoped would fund Crimson Kidzone so it could be expanded. Erin needed the money to hire a part-time staff person.

  There was so much she wanted to do for kids in the Crimson community now that she’d started, but all of it took money. Mari seemed receptive to her ideas, so Erin had high hopes that the grant request she was submitting would be approved.

  “Excuse me for a moment,” she said to Mari, and turned to Rhett. “What do you need, Rhett?”

  “Isaac is here.” The boy gave her a pained look. “And Mommy’s boyfriend.”

  She turned to where he was pointing. Another boy with dark hair and eyes stood in the doorway to the community center’s makeshift classroom.

  She recognized Isaac Martin, the boy Rhett had fought with at school, although his family had moved to Crimson last year so she’d never had him in class.

  He wore baggy sweatpants and a Denver Broncos jersey. Next to him stood a tall, lean man close to Erin’s age whom she recognized as Joel Martin, Jenna McCay’s boyfriend and Isaac’s father. His black hair was slicked back from his face and, although his features were classically handsome, his eyes had a hard edge to them.

  He met her gaze and gave her a quick once-over. Goose bumps shivered across her skin, and not the kind she got when David looked at her. This man’s stare made her feel uncomfortable and strangely nervous. She saw his gaze switch to Mari for a second before dismissing her just as quickly as he had Erin.

  “The lady at the desk said this is where I sign my kid up for day care,” the man said, arms crossed over his chest.

  Isaac glared at Rhett, who moved behind Erin’s legs, holding tight to the denim of the dark-washed jeans she wore.

  “I’d be happy to get you an enrollment form,” she answered. “Although it’s not exactly day care.” She threw Mari an apologetic glance. “I offer an after-school enrichment program three days a week and—”

  “Whatever,” the man said. “Can I leave him now? His mom don’t get off work until seven and I have things to do. His sisters are with their dad tonight and he don’t want to stay by himself.”

  Erin had spoken to Melody after the fight about Isaac’s family situation. According to her friend, the boy had two older stepsisters but his mother was single and struggling to keep her household together.

  “Isaac is welcome to be part of the program,” she said, keeping her voice steady, “but it only goes until six and he can’t start until the paperwork is completed.”

  “He’s still here.” The man pointed at Rhett. “Isaac and him can play.”

  Rhett dug his fingers into her legs, and she wanted to wrap him in her arms. Isaac glared at them both. His father shifted to get a better look at Rhett, then did a double take.

  “That’s Jenna’s kid,” he muttered, then swatted Isaac on the back of the head. “He’s the one that hit you, right?”

  “Mr. Martin, what happened between the boys is a matter for the school to deal with. Rhett is going to be picked up in a few minutes, and I can get you an enrollment form but—”

  “How’s your mama doing, boy? It was a shame the crap got out of hand that night. I’m looking forward to her getting back so—”

  Suddenly Joel jerked back as David spun him around and slammed him against the wall, pressing his forearm to the other man’s throat. “You won’t see my sister again. You won’t look at her. You won’t acknowledge her existence. Are we clear?”

  Mari Clayton gasped and Erin peeled Rhett’s hands off her legs and hurried forward. What kind of example were these two grown men showing boys who had just been disciplined for fighting? Not to mention the fact that the last thing Erin needed was a scene in the middle of her meeting with a potential donor.

  Joel coughed and fought, but David had at least thirty pounds on him and showed no sign of backing down.

  “Get the hell off me,” Joel bit out, his voice hoarse. “Jenna can make her own damn decisions.”

  “Tell me you’re going to leave my sister alone.”

  Erin didn’t recognize this version of David. Gone was the laid-back bar owner or the caring—if sometimes clueless—uncle. Anger and violence radiated from him, making him seem like the man he’d warned her about.

  Isaac had moved back into the hall, his small body shrinking against the door frame.

  “David.” She placed a hand on his arm. “Stop. This isn’t the place. You’re scaring the boys.”

  “Listen to the lady,” Joel said, but as soon as David loosened his grip, the other man struck out, his fist connecting with David’s jaw.

  Erin heard a scream and realized it came from her throat. David shoved Joel again, and the tall man stumbled into the wall.

  “Enough,” she shouted.

  Both men stilled at her tone. She might be shaking with nerves, but she had enough experience as a teacher to take command of the situation.

  “The community center,” she said slowly, as if settling a dispute over a favorite crayon, “is not the place for you two to have this...” She searched for the right word and settled on “conversation. You both have boys watching your every move.”

  David pressed a hand to his jaw and glanced over his shoulder to where Rhett was staring, wide-eyed, at the scene playing out in front of him.

  “Dude grabbed me,” Joel muttered. “I got to defend myself.”

  “Mr. Martin,” she said firmly, “you can request a Kidzone enrollment form at the community center’s front desk.” She turned to Isaac and gentled her voice. “We’d love to have you in the program, but there is no fighting or name-calling here. It’s a safe place for everyone. Do you understand?”

  The boy’s brows lowered but he nodded. His father muttered under his breath a string of expletives so explicit it made her breath catch in her throat. David moved forward again with a growl, and she stepped between the two men.

  “It would be a good idea for you to leave now,” she told Joel. “Isaac, I hope to see you next week.”

  Joel’s upper lip curled into an ugly sneer as he narrowed his gaze on David. “A real man don’t let no woman push him around. Your sister knows what it’s like to be with a baller.” His mean brown eyes shifted to Erin. “Maybe Ms. Teacher wants something more in her life, too. What you say, baby?”

  David snarled and tried pushing around Erin. “I’m going to—”

  “No.” She took a step to the side so she was still blocking him. “Mr. Martin, you need to go.”

  With a sickeningly sweet smile and a salute, the man turned away. “Come on, Isaac. Let’s blow this place.”

  Erin stood watching them walk down the hall for several moments, willing her breathing back to a normal pace.

  “Erin.” David’s voice was gentle, but when he went to place a hand on her shoulder, she swatted away his touch.<
br />
  “I’ll deal with you in a minute,” she said through teeth clenched tightly so no one would notice how much they were chattering. “Take care of Rhett. I have a meeting to finish.”

  Nervous laughter sounded from behind her. “I think we’re finished here for tonight.”

  Mari Clayton had gathered her bag and purse and was staring at Erin and David, her cheeks flushed and a hand pressed flat to her chest.

  “Uncle David,” Rhett called. “You got in a fight just like me.”

  She heard David sigh as he moved toward his nephew. “I’m sorry about that,” he said to Mari. “There was some history there but this wasn’t the time or place for us to play it out.”

  The woman swallowed and nodded. “I understand.”

  He turned back to Erin, but she gave him a quelling glare, then focused her attention on Mari. “You can’t possibly understand.”

  “You’re right. This felt more like Fight Club than an after-school program for kids. I applaud what you’re trying to do, Erin, and it’s clear the community needs a safe place for kids to go. Still, I’m not sure your program and the Aspen Foundation are a good fit.”

  Tears stung the back of Erin’s eyes. It was adrenaline, she knew, but this was not how the meeting with Mari was supposed to end. “I apologize for the scene. But I hope you’ll change your mind. I think this demonstrates just how important a community outreach program that brings kids together is for Crimson.”

  “But can you keep the children safe?”

  There was a slight hint of accusation in Mari’s tone; Erin’s doubts crashed around her like a thousand ocean waves. Her mother’s refrain of “be happy with good enough” rang through her mind. Kidzone had been in place one week and already there was a question about whether she could manage it.

  “I firmly believe I can,” she lied to her potential donor. She wanted to make a safe place for kids to come after school, but Erin knew better than most that wanting something and getting it weren’t always the same thing.

  “Let’s touch base in a few weeks,” Mari said noncommittally. “The decisions about our fall funding cycle will be made by the end of October. It may be better to wait until your program is more established.”