Done With Men Forever (Clairmont Series Book 3)

by S. Jane Scheyder

  He pulled out supplies to make his lunch for the next day; he’d be too tired to do it in the morning. He pictured making lunches with Becky by his side, giving him a hard time, telling him he ate too much. He’d hassle her for eating like a mouse. Then they’d forget about the food ...

  He shook himself. He was a goner. They were going to have to really talk and figure out where their relationship was going. It was one thing to tease her about being done with men, and he really enjoyed the daily reminders that he wasn’t going away. But she was going to have to figure out if she was ready to trust him and give their relationship a chance. The pressure was on with his job offer. ESPN wasn’t going to wait forever, and how Becky felt about him leaving was a much bigger factor than he cared to admit.

  Four sandwiches later, he packed up what he’d made, figuring he’d finish in the morning. Tomorrow was health class. Tank liked health class. One of the other P.E. teachers was going to be leading a two-day CPR unit, so there wasn’t any significant prep.

  Tank smiled. It was fun to mess with Becky during class. The CPR unit would give him all kinds of opportunities to do it.

  twenty-nine

  “If one more kid would have asked us to demonstrate mouth to mouth ...” Becky stormed through the classroom, shoving the desks back into place.

  Tank grinned. “Well, if you’d have just cooperated, they wouldn’t have had to keep asking.”

  She looked up at him with a glare that had no chance of lasting. She pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “And you needed to encourage them.”

  Tank threw his hands up defensively. “I said nothing.”

  “You smiled and gave me that ... that look.”

  “What look?”

  Becky turned back to her desks, knowing better than to make eye contact. She knew exactly what she’d see in his eyes, and how it would affect her breathing, her coloring, her ability to focus. He had no business giving her that look in front of a roomful of teenagers.

  She shoved another desk over. “You could help with the desks.”

  “Yeah, I was kind of afraid to get in your way.”

  She scowled at him and quickly looked away. “Are you ever going to tell me what happened over the weekend?”

  “Are you ever going to give me five minutes alone with you?”

  Becky kept shoving. “We’re alone now. Tell me what happened.” She looked up from a safe distance across the room. “I really do want to hear about it.”

  Tank finished shutting down the Smartboard. “I have a meeting tonight.” He thought for a moment. “Helping Grace at the shop on Wednesday. How about pizza Thursday?”

  Becky considered the offer. It seemed safe enough. “You working at the house anymore this week?”

  He smiled a slow smile. “I could get called in any time.”

  She’d never seen him smile so much. It made it really difficult to stay irritated with him.

  He pulled his jacket on. “I won’t be over tonight. You’re safe.”

  “Good,” she replied, pretending she believed it.

  “So I’ll need to walk you to your car.”

  Becky sighed and gathered her things. It was a funny game they were playing, really fairly childish. Still, she knew her part. She’d make a fuss and continue to pretend like she wasn’t dying to find out how he’d give her his daily greeting.

  She’d never had so much fun kissing in her life.

  Trouble, trouble, trouble.

  ***

  The students finished their French test, and for once, sat quietly doing their homework until the period ended. Becky found herself distracted as always. Would Tank come and find her after school? She was like a Pavlovian dog, her heart racing because the clock hit 2:45. The image did not please her.

  She did get a visitor on the heels of the kids departure, but it wasn’t Tank. Ed Davidson walked in and greeted her heartily, as he always did.

  “Hello, Ms. Jacobs! How are you, today?”

  Becky smiled, internally switching gears to talk to the tech ed teacher. “Doing just fine, Mr. Davidson. How are you?”

  “Fine, just fine. I talked to old Mrs. Brindle, and I think she’s finally going to retire.”

  Becky cocked her head. “Mrs. Brindle? Do I know her?”

  “The art teacher,” Ed boomed. “Gotta be a hundred and fifty years old. Time for her to retire and make room for some new blood.”

  “Ed!”

  “She’s been waiting for someone ‘worthy’ to replace her. Someone who loves the kids and loves Clairmont. Won’t leave her kids ’til she knows they’re in good hands.” Ed sat on the corner of Becky’s desk. “I showed her your painting of Lillibelle and she loved it!”

  Becky tried to process everything he was telling her. “I’m glad she liked it, but I don’t want her to feel like I’m after her job.”

  “That’s the only thing that’s gonna budge her.”

  “Well, I don’t even know what I’m doing next year, if I’ll even be in the area,” Becky hedged.

  Ed raised an eyebrow. “You don’t see yourself staying in Clairmont? Sure seems to suit you.”

  Becky pulled her coat on. “I do like it here. More than I expected to. But it’s all very temporary. I’m living in my sister’s house, remember. As soon as they finish that apartment, her family will be moving in and I’m going to have to figure out my next step. It may be here. It may not,” she shrugged.

  She could tell that Ed was itching to say something about Tank, but he seemed to think better of it and returned to his original tactic.

  “Well, we sure could use a young, talented art teacher here. We’re going to need one soon, if I have anything to say about it.”

  Becky laughed nervously. “Thanks Ed, but it’s not really your decision. There are a lot of steps to the process.”

  “Right. We start by getting her out of the building.”

  “Ed!”

  “Oh, I’ve known her forever. All my kids had her. She knows I like her. It’s just time, that’s all.” He leaned in and whispered dramatically, “She’s even older than me.”

  “Shocking! And is she also working with power tools like you are?” Becky asked.

  Ed chuckled. “You never can tell with those artsy types.”

  “I’m an artsy type, Ed.”

  “Exactly! And we need you. Now why don’t you run down to the office and see if there’s some sort of paperwork you can fill out?”

  Becky shook her head. It had been a long time since Ed had applied for a teaching job. “The job will be posted after she retires. I’ll look into it then. Meanwhile, why don’t we let her finish her year in peace?”

  “If you’d just go and say hello, and tell her ...”

  “Ed,” Becky used her stern teacher voice.

  “Fine, fine,” Ed grumbled good-naturedly.

  Becky followed him out of the room. “Thanks for thinking of me. I do appreciate it.”

  He grinned. “We’re going to get you to stay in Clairmont, one way or another,” he replied. “Once we get attached to someone, we don’t let go easily.”

  ***

  Becky felt every muscle in her legs as she made her way through the halls to her classroom. She’d run the afternoon before and hadn’t taken the time to stretch like she should have. She’d be feeling it all day. Shifting her book bag, she opened the door to their classroom. She’d arrived earlier than usual, hoping to be the first teacher in the room. It helped her equilibrium the tiniest bit if she could get in and nest before Tank arrived.

  Strong arms enveloped her the minute she walked in, and Tank did his best to cover Becky’s squeal of surprise. Her pounding heart continued to pound for all kinds of reasons, and she finally broke free.

  “You’re crazy!”

  Tank lifted her book bag off her shoulder. “I missed you yesterday.”

  “Well, that was no greeting. That was an assault.”

  Chastised, he set her bag down on the desk and turned to her.
“I’m sorry. I would never hurt you.”

  He was so serious, Becky was taken aback. “I know. You just surprised me, that’s all.”

  “I had just walked in, myself.” He shrugged his big shoulders and grinned a little. “I couldn’t resist when you kind of backed in like that.”

  Becky smiled and shook her head. “You’re lucky it wasn’t Mrs. Whitestone.”

  Tank groaned in horror. “And you look so much alike, I just might have made that mistake.”

  Becky smacked him. “Nice.”

  “Now look who’s assaulting.”

  “Poor baby,” Becky said. “We’ve got one more day of CPR, right? Do we need the Smartboard?”

  “Nope. Just lots of resuscitation practice.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re just ... trouble.”

  “With a capital T,” he grinned.

  ***

  “So, would you do this year-round?” Becky asked as she helped herself to a second slice of pizza. Tank was on his fourth, and he’d eaten most of his salad. He’d also done most of the talking.

  He’d caught her up on the people he’d met, some of the details of the job, and then taken off on sports analysis. Becky marveled at how it animated him. When she compared the Tank that she’d first met and the man sitting across from her, she could hardly believe they were the same person.

  “There’s work that I can do year-round, of course, but the air time would be late summer through early February.”

  “And you’d move, of course.”

  He looked at her intently. “It would make sense. I’d probably keep the beach house, that is if I can ever buy it so that I can keep it.”

  Becky nodded and took a bite of her salad, chewing thoughtfully. “And what are your options if you don’t take it? I mean, I’m sure you will; that makes sense, of course, but I’m just curious why you’re even deliberating. What else would you do?”

  Tank took a break from eating and sat back in his seat. “They talked to me about the P.E. position.”

  Becky smiled; that was no surprise. “I don’t suppose they’re trying very hard to replace you. I’m sure they’d love it if you stayed on.”

  “Thanks,” Tank replied. “I do like working with the kids. And I like the town.” He looked around the pizza place like it was all right there in front of him. Then he leaned forward. “They asked me to join the coaching staff.” His eyes snapped with excitement.

  Becky marveled at how much she enjoyed seeing him so happy. “Oh, how great is that? Is somebody leaving?”

  “Defensive coordinator would appreciate the break. He came on a few years back when the staff was short. I don’t think he’d planned to do it long-term.”

  “Wow, that would be perfect for you.”

  “Yeah, I have some pretty sweet options.”

  Becky pushed her salad plate away. “So, how long do you have to decide?”

  “School’s giving me some time. ESPN wants to know yesterday.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  Tank reached over and traced Becky’s fingers on the table. It tingled right up her arm. “Do you know what you’re doing next year?”

  It made sense for him to ask, of course. No one was talking about commitment, just looking ahead to job prospects. Still, they were forging new territory.

  “I’m not sure. Ed Davidson’s trying to kick the art teacher out so that I can have her job.”

  Tank laughed. “Good for Ed.”

  Becky smiled. “Yeah, it’s not quite the concrete job offer that you have, but it’s something to think about.”

  “She close to retirement?”

  “According to Ed, she is. I haven’t met her.”

  “How about French? They hiring a new teacher?”

  “Yeah, I think they’re looking for someone part-time. I’m going to need to go back to full-time with benefits - the whole deal. This year was a little off the beaten path for me.”

  “You’ve been a big help to Maddy.”

  Becky grinned. “There was a time you wouldn’t have admitted that.”

  Tank leaned back and stretched. “I was determined not to like you.”

  She watched and enjoyed the stretch, then tuned in to what he was saying. “Really? Why?”

  “Because you’re beautiful, smart and funny. All of those things bugged me.”

  Becky wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or offended. “Do tell.”

  His lips twitched. “It’s a deadly combination, and not many people handle it well.” He leaned back in and took a hold of her fingers, playing with them more than holding them. “But you’ve figured out what matters and there’s a really cool woman underneath all the rest of it that I really want to know.”

  “So you’ll put up with ‘all the rest of it.’ ”

  He grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

  She blew her hair out of her eyes. “I haven’t figured out what matters,” she objected. “I think I just finally realized what doesn’t.”

  “Men?” He gave her fingers a tug.

  She looked at him wryly. “You’ve made it really difficult to stick to my plan.”

  “Maybe there’s a better plan.”

  “Maybe you just want me because I’m fighting you. You probably never had a woman say no before.”

  Tank considered this for a moment. “Guess the only way to find out is to have you throw yourself at me.” He leaned back, keeping a hold of her fingers. “Then we’ll see from there.”

  “Oh, that’s great for me,” Becky said dryly. “And when you decide I’m not such a big deal and move on, I’ll just ...”

  “You’re a big deal, Becky,” Tank gently interrupted.

  She looked into his eyes, lost herself a little. “You should never have kissed me,” she whispered.

  “Can’t say I’m sorry. Don’t know if I can stop.”

  Becky swallowed, tried to concentrate. “You kiss me and I get stupid,” she protested. “It’s a good stupid, a better stupid than I’ve ever felt before, but I don’t feel any control.”

  Tank spun the pizza pan, then sat back and regarded her. “I don’t believe I’ve ever kissed anyone stupid before.”

  “You probably have and you just don’t know it.”

  He grinned and stopped the pan. “Who feels control when they’re kissing?”

  “Oh, please, you never look flustered after you kiss me - just all smiling and pleased with yourself.”

  Tank laughed. “Well, I am happy when I kiss you, but it doesn’t mean I feel any kind of control. This is a ride for me, too, Becky. I’m in it now, and I want to see where it goes.”

  “I just feel like this is all happening to me. Like I’m not choosing it.”

  Tank sat back, concerned. “Don’t like how that sounds.”

  “I’m not saying this very well,” Becky conceded. “I think what I really need,” she stopped and thought for a moment, “is to stop letting men define me.”

  “I’m not men, Becky. I’m one man. I’m not everyone else you ever dated.”

  “I know. I know.” She looked at him longingly. “I just need some time.”

  He sighed. “Okay. I get that.”

  She looked at him. “I need you to be my friend.”

  He squeezed her fingers. “Of course.”

  “And I need you to stop kissing me.”

  thirty

  The snow was falling so hard Becky couldn’t see the ocean from the kitchen window. She looked with relief at the pile of wood next to the fireplace. She hadn’t thought to stock it after her long day at school on Friday. John must have done it when he arrived to work on the apartment. What a guy.

  She glanced outside again before joining Maddy in the kitchen. “Don’t you worry about the boys out there in that blizzard?”

  “I think they’re safe with John and Tank. I’m sure they’re having a blast.”

  “I meant all four boys.”

  Maddy laughed.

  “Seriously. They’
re probably half frozen.”

  “Aren’t you the little worrier today?”

  Becky opened the oven to check the double chocolate chip cookies. The edges looked crisp and the chips were nice and shiny; just about ready. “It’s just coming down so hard.”

  “Maybe we should go out there; make sure they’re okay.”

  Becky slipped on the oven mitts. “Are you kidding?”

  Maddy washed her hands. “No, I’m not. That’s the last batch of cookies. Let’s go surprise them. It’ll be fun!”

  Becky groaned. “Did you not hear me say that I was trying to get some space from Tank? It’s enough that he spent the whole day working here with John. Why would I go out there and play in the snow with him?”

  Maddy rolled her eyes. “Then go out and play with Parker and Blake. They loved it the last time you did it. Talked about your fort all week.” She hovered as Becky pulled the cookies out. “They smell heavenly.” She squeezed Becky’s shoulder. “I’m going out.”

  Becky scowled at her sister, but hesitated only briefly before stomping to her room to get her boots. No matter what was going on with Tank, she was still working on being a fun aunt. She’d go out and mess with the boys.

  The little ones, anyway.

  Finally bundled from head to foot, she tottered onto the porch, following Maddy’s prints out to the snow blown beach. She could hear the boys yelling and laughing, with the deeper laughs of John and Tank mixed in. She headed toward the voices, her movement slowed by all of her layers.

  “Ahhhh! The monster’s got me!” Blake squealed, followed by what could only be Tank roaring. Becky couldn’t help smiling. Blake was usually pretty reserved; it was fun to hear him letting loose in their snow monster game.

  “I’ll save you!” Parker yelled.

  Becky caught movement ahead as Parker ran straight for a very large, dark mass - could only be Tank - and tried to tackle him. The big form, with a smaller, floppy one on his shoulder, dropped back a step and then roared again, leaning down to scoop up Parker.