He could have dumped a cold glass of water on her. Reality crashed back. “Yes. It does.” Please call me.
No.
Hold firm, Natalia.
How could more heat infuse his gaze? Was her internal struggle obvious?
“That’s a shame.” He went for the door but stopped with his hand on the knob and spoke low. “Nice to see you again, Valaria.”
Her breath caught and she wanted to run after him like a damsel in distress. She wanted him to strip her out of her costume inch by inch while he devoured her body—but that fantasy needed to be relegated to the forgotten zone. She couldn’t be anything more to Chris than his daughter’s principal.
Chapter 4
Chris rang up customers as the store’s Saturday game-day club wrapped up their afternoon. Saturdays and Sundays were always busy days but some of his favorites. It might be the weekend, but it beat sitting through tag-team board meetings Monday through Friday. And he didn’t have to work every weekend. Only when Jaycee was with her grandparents.
Work didn’t stop him from thinking about her. Uptight Ms. Shaw turned Valaria the Assassin. Or vice versa? Was the real Natalia Shaw somewhere in the middle?
How many cold showers had he taken to get her transformation out of his mind? Uptight Ms. Shaw got him as hot as Valaria. He’d be in trouble if trouble were even an option. The way Ms. Shaw had booted Jaycee out of detention when he’d driven up the circular drive to the entrance of the school, she wasn’t harboring aspirations of sneaking in forbidden time with him.
Glad to see the cosmic balance of his life was holding up.
Lose his virginity at seventeen, have a baby. Hit his career stride, become a single dad. Meet the woman of his dreams, discover she’s his daughter’s principal.
The game-club players started filing out. A few stayed behind to browse the aisles. They were all regulars and it’d been hours since lunch. Chris darted to the back office to guzzle a water and check his messages.
His mouth twitched when he opened the picture Jaycee had sent. She was strolling behind her grandparents at the Mall of America. She had her tongue sticking out and her hand in the rock on position. He could make out the designer plush coat her grandmother was wearing and the tweed suit of her grandfather. They made an odd, but expensive pair. Add Jaycee and her torn jeans into the mix and no wonder Jaycee was blowing off steam, though it was in a thankfully subdued and not outrageous way.
It was the weekend Jaycee dined with her mother. At least Cierra was making an effort to stay in Jaycee’s life, even if she refused to take any responsibility for the girl otherwise. Since Cierra did whatever her parents wanted, he probably should thank them.
But they never thanked him for a thing, so…
The bell for the front door dinged. He tossed his empty bottle in the recycling bin and strode back out and around the corner. Stopping, he stared at the new customer.
Natalia browsed through the action figure selections. Her eyes were narrowed and she was leaning close to the hanging display. His lips quirked. She was inspecting the detail on the figures for ideas. Was she coming up with a new character or expanding on Valaria?
This version of Ms. Shaw was better than the rest. She wore an emerald-green sweatshirt that he’d bet his collector comic book stash was a Preston Academy sweatshirt. Soft jeans molded her legs like Valaria’s suit. On her feet were ballet slippers, and the best part? Her hair was down. No wig. No bun wound so tight that if the band snapped it could take out someone’s eye. A cascade of light brown waves fell across the hood of her sweatshirt. His fingers twitched to run through it.
He had it bad.
She adjusted the tote over her shoulder and turned to scan the rest of the store. Had she been in here before? Yes, she’d bought the prism on her bookshelf. The lone object decorating her office, and he was probably the only person in the school who knew what it was. Well, he and Jaycee, but his daughter would never admit her knowledge in Preston.
He scanned his store, trying to see it from a customer’s view. A common tactic he and Mara used to stage the floor, but he and Mara were also customers. Chris wanted to know what Natalia thought of Arcadia. It was more than a comic book store. To remain viable and profitable, they had expanded to any and every product that would sell. But the building itself was an inviting work of architecture.
The front was floor-to-ceiling windows, and skylights continued the open feel to the ceiling. Arched wooden beams mixed with metal supports to lend a trendy industrial feel to the space.
Natalia’s brow formed an adorable crease when she spotted the clothing section. It was replaced by bright excitement. She beelined to the racks.
He hadn’t moved. All other shoppers had filtered out, knowing it was close to closing time.
Good thing. He might growl at someone approaching the register to interrupt his spying.
Natalia flitted through the clothing racks like an evil scientist who’d found a hidden lair full of abandoned inventions. He wanted to call Mara and thank her for expanding their inventory to include pop culture clothing. Not only was it hugely profitable, but it might make Natalia a repeat customer.
She was chewing her lip over a pair of folded leggings in her hands. He couldn’t tell what comic book universe they were from; he just wanted to see them on her.
Setting them back, Natalia turned and wandered to their accessories section. She passed realistic plastic broadswords and battleaxes, slowed when passing the variety of capes offered in all shapes and sizes, then stopped and smiled in front of a full-sized replica of Dr. Strange’s cape.
Yeah, that was his favorite, too.
He tracked her as she moved past the costume selection to the face paint.
Face paint? Really?
She picked through an assortment and chose two. Again, he couldn’t see the colors.
She lifted her gaze to scan the store.
He grinned when her eyes roved past him, then jerked back. A blush stained her cheeks.
“Can I help you find anything?” he called and started her way.
“I-I—” She looked around, noticed they were the only two now in the store, and hastily put her face paint back. “I came to ask if you can post… You know what, never mind.” She flashed him an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
His strides ate the distance between them before she could run. “It’s all right. What’d you come for?”
“You work Saturdays?” she blurted.
She’d only come because she thought he wouldn’t be here? His earlier thrill at seeing her threatened to die a slow, painful death. Unless…she’d hoped he’d be here. Even if it was only subconsciously, he’d take it.
“Jaycee stays with her grandparents one weekend a month. Then I work weekends.” He shrugged. “They’re fun.”
“Oh.” Her gaze strayed to the door, but she didn’t move.
He kept his tone from being too pushy or eager. “What brought you here?”
She dug in her tote and withdrew some papers. “Since you’re already keeping one secret for me, we can add this to the pile. Can you hang this by the entry?”
He accepted the paper. It was a poster for…the roller derby? “From assassin to Minneapolis Mean Streaks?”
Her flush deepened. Seeing him here had obviously thrown her, but that hadn’t stopped her from sharing another part of her life with him. Was there a loophole in her fraternization policy?
Because this woman was intriguing.
So far, he’d met three sides of her, and Ms. Shaw was the oddball in the bunch. “Why the secret identity? Ms. Shaw by day, cool-as-hell chick by night?” He probably didn’t phrase it the best way, but he’d never been one to hide from himself. He let his geek flag fly.
Her shoulders drooped. “I’m a principal at a prestigious private school. How seriously do you think the parents and the school board would take me if they knew I cosplayed—after someone explained what that is—and bashed into other women on roller skates?”<
br />
“Why do you care what they think?” He was no longer in the same social circles as a lot of the other parents, and his quality of life had greatly improved.
“Says the man.”
Whoa. Yeah. He got what she was saying. And how could he argue? Some of the parents were nice, decent people. Others would use every angle they could to skewer someone who’d done them wrong. And if invalidating Ms. Shaw because of her social activities did the trick, they’d be ruthless.
“To be fair, being a dude who owns a comic book shop doesn’t impress them either.”
She smiled, then blinked. “You own Arcadia?”
“Co-own. Arcadia was Mara’s idea, but when her husband shut it down, I offered to go halfsies to resurrect it.”
“Her hus—”
“They weren’t seeing each other then. It’s quite a story. And Wes was quite an asshole then. He’s not now. Not to us anyway.”
“That’s good.” She gave the store another cursory glance. “I’m impressed with what you’ve done with the place. When I searched for comic book shops, I expected a closet shoved in a strip mall.”
He laughed. “Like I said, Wes shut it down. Want the tour?” When she nodded, he pointed to the windows. “Wes’s friend is in construction and he gave us a deal to use Arcadia as advertising. Most of what Flynn did before this was office buildings and they can only have so much flair.”
“It’s definitely inviting. Makes me not want to leave.”
He hoped she didn’t. Leading her around, he explained his and Mara’s reasoning with their options and displays. Natalia nodded, her interest genuine. As long as her eyes weren’t glazing, he kept talking.
The open sign had flicked off, thanks to a timer. He didn’t want to be interrupted.
“This is just…” She spun around, her gaze sweeping the entire store. He’d thought his pride was boundless before her reaction. “I’m really impressed. I’ve never seen a comic book store quite like this. There are a couple in Seattle that are bigger than a hole in the wall, but nothing like Arcadia.”
“Is that where you’re from?” He couldn’t help trying to get to know her.
The corner of her mouth lifted. “Sort of. I was born here, when my dad was— But I call Seattle home.” She gestured to the flyer he still held. “If you wouldn’t mind posting that? I told them I’d drop it by, so you shouldn’t have more solicitors showing up.”
“Here, I’ll show you where we’ll hang it.” She was ready to bolt and he didn’t want her to leave yet. There had to be some way around the fraternization policy. Was it Preston Academy’s policy or her personal one? It was a smart one, unless you actually met someone you wanted to get to know. Then it was a pain in the ass.
The bulletin board where they hung announcements was by the entrance. She was primed to leave anyway; he might as well squeak out more time with her before she jetted.
“I’ll also add the information to our website. We have a community section for related events.” She stopped next to him and he was about to stick a tack into it but thought better. He paused and grinned at her. “I forgot to mention there’s a fee to post this.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Oh yeah?”
“What’s your derby name?”
Her lips twitched, reminding him how they’d felt pressed against his own. “I haven’t played an official game yet.” She cleared her throat and looked around. “Shaw Shank.”
He laughed as he stabbed the tack into the poster. “Nice. I would’ve thought you’d avoid Shaw. For anonymity.”
She crossed her arms. “My personal and professional worlds don’t normally coincide. You seem to be the exception.”
His grin faded. “I wish I was more of an exception. Like taking you to dinner tonight.”
Her arms fell and regret passed through her eyes. “Chris, I…”
The way she said his name. So much better than Mr. Halliwell. “I know, Natalia. But I’ve been single for a long time and you were more than a passing interest. I don’t normally kiss convention attendees.”
The ridges of her cheekbones flushed. He hoped it was because she liked remembering their kiss and not because she was ashamed of it.
“My job” was all she said, but it was half-hearted.
“Jaycee doesn’t graduate for four years. I don’t want to write us off because of a career.” A career that doesn’t suit you. The more he got to know her, the more he couldn’t understand the Ms. Shaw side of her. Valaria? Shaw Shank? Neither of those screamed uptight principal. Neither did the form-hugging jeans that cradled her body the way he wanted to.
Skepticism entered her eyes. “I’m sure you have plenty of options.”
“Have you ever tried dating—leading with ‘I work in a comic book shop’ and ending with ‘I have a teenager’? I haven’t had to lock the door against a line of single ladies waiting to ask me out.”
A laugh burst from her. “Maybe if you’d quit being so hostile when someone criticizes the latest DC universe movie, you would have better luck.”
“Then I wouldn’t have a sexy assassin coming to my rescue.”
Her laughter faded, but her smile stayed. “I think you could’ve handled it yourself.”
“Not without losing business. They were about to diss my favorite character.”
She hadn’t left yet, but indecision warred in her gaze. “I just… What if we’re seen together?”
He didn’t want to push it and seem desperate, but he was. For her. Talking to her was as easy as talking to Mara, who’d become his best friend. But he didn’t want to kiss Mara. Natalia was another story. “How about you come over? Jaycee’s gone for the weekend. I don’t burn too many meals since I learned to cook.” If he had anything to throw together for dinner. He’d planned on having a sandwich.
“What if I have to discipline Jaycee again?” Her tone cut like Ms. Shaw. He almost sighed. Because like it or not, that’s who she was.
“The first time went well. Jaycee needs to learn consequences for her behavior. My concern is her grandparents, but they’re for me to deal with, not you.”
She was going to turn him down. He’d have to spend the night dealing with his disappointment and bemoaning the one that got away.
“Okay.”
His brows popped. “Really?” His voice damn near cracked like he was one of her students.
“I won’t confess my giant disappointment at learning you are a parent of one of my students, but since I don’t usually lust after the other moms and dads, maybe it’s worth exploring.”
If her tone weren’t so clinical, he’d feel better. But at least she was willing to give them a chance. “Want to follow me home?”
* * *
Natalia Shaw Preston, what the hell are you doing?
She steered her silver Lexus behind Chris’s practical Ford. It was charcoal gray and not exactly what she’d expected. Since he didn’t seem concerned with others’ opinions, she wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d rolled up with an Arcadia advertising wrap around his entire vehicle. But at the same time, his Edge fit him exactly. Understated. Efficient.
What a gorgeous store he owned. It had more artistic flair than some museums she’d been in—some art studios, for that matter. What career had he left that he could afford to build such a state-of-the-art comic book shop?
Either he or his partner had to be business savvy, and while she’d never officially met his partner, she’d gotten lost in Chris’s keen gaze long enough to know he was capable.
The combo of brains and looks was why she’d embarked on this foolish endeavor to have dinner with him. Volunteering to drop off the flyers at Arcadia, knowing full well Chris might be working, was one thing. But dinner at his home? Sure, it was private and she didn’t have to worry about being seen on a date with a Preston Academy parent. But it was his home. It was more…intimate.
She didn’t usually jump between the sheets with her dates. Usually there was a waiting period. The guy often knew
her father and suspected the sum in her bank account. He’d have to show off his own talent and business acumen. When he thought she was duly impressed, then he moved in with the underwhelming physical prowess. If she orgasmed, she considered the relationship a success, no matter how short-term it was.
And they were usually brief. Even if they were physically compatible, she quickly grew stifled, holding a huge part of herself back. She wanted to see superhero movies, he wanted to see the latest critically acclaimed indie film. She’d once missed Emerald City Comic Con because her boyfriend had had March Madness fever. Was there anything more boring than a basketball game full of people she didn’t know? She often attended high school games Preston Academy played in, but that was to cheer on kids she’d seen put in hours of effort—and who weren’t being paid millions to play.
Unless they were given a free ride to Preston Academy, which happened all too frequently. Thus the financial issues of the last school she’d taken charge of.
She switched her concentration back to Chris. He was pulling into the driveway of a cute little clapboard house. The academy was nestled in the trees in a suburb outside of Minneapolis. Chris also lived in Eden Prairie. Should she have followed him home in her own car?
The part he lived in screamed middle-class, unlike the neighborhoods the rest of her students lived in. His house was one of many on the block; it didn’t take up the whole block. She had rented a town house in a gated community in Bloomington. Maybe she should’ve invited him back to her place.
The garage door opened, and he pulled inside. She was debating pulling into his driveway or parking along the curb when the second garage door opened.
She chewed on her lip. They both knew they were hiding what they were doing, but parking in his garage made it sneakier.
But she had a job to do and someone spotting her car wouldn’t help. Especially after the talk she’d had with Dresden Wentworth’s parents. Do you know how much I pay this school every year?
Based on Principal: Fanboys Book 3 Page 4