Page 8 of Country

I roll my eyes. “Really?”

“What?” He shrugs. “That’s a reasonable question, right?”

I nod. “Yeah. That’s why we’re here. You’re right.” I need to get my head on straight. I glance down at the file in front of me, reminding myself why I sent home the note in the first place. “Well, Belle talks about her feelings a lot.” God this conversation is awkward. I mean, it was going to be awkward anyway, but now that I know Country like I do, it’s even weirder.

“What about her feelings?”

“Well, she talks about not having a mom. And sometimes during class, when the other kids are talking about the things they do with their mother, she detaches from everyone and refuses to rejoin the group.”

Country stares at me blankly and guilt rolls through me like a thunderstorm.

“I’m not saying this because I want you to feel bad. I’m just…” I lean in. “If my students are showing any sign of emotional distress, it’s my duty to let their parents know. I mean, you’re busy, and it’s easy to miss. Maybe you could talk to her and—”

“I’m not good with this stuff. I know she’s sad. She plays pretend mom at home.”

“What’s pretend mom?”

He clears his throat and looks away before turning back again. “It’s basically an imaginary friend… but she pretends the friend is her mom.”

My heart does a sinking, flopping thing that makes me want to reach out and hug Country, then go find Belle and give her whatever she wants. Hugs, money, gifts, ponies… anything.

“There’s no book for this.” I shrug. “It’s not my intention to tell you this needs fixing. I just wanted you to know. You’re a good dad. She talks about you all the time. Well, I didn’t know it was you, but… she talks about you a lot.”

“Good things?” he says, his tone perking.

“She tells me about the fishing trips and all the fun you guys have making jokes around the pond.” My brows raise. “Oh, and she says you make the best spaghetti sauce.”

“Well, fishin’ and spaghetti sauce aren’t cuttin’ it. I need to find her a mother.” He laughs. “You for hire?”

I glance up at him and throw out an awkward laugh. I know he’s joking. Of course, he’s joking… but I kind of wish he wasn’t. I could go for a ‘hired’ mommy position, if daddy comes with the package. That weird moment we had in the living room this morning says he might be interested too.

“Belle is a great kid,” I say, reaching out for his hand. I’m alarmed by how big and rough it is. “This is a phase. Eventually, she’ll realize that you were everything, and that’s enough.”

He shakes his head. “Little girls need a woman in their lives. They just do.”

“Maybe. What about an aunt or a friend?”

“No extended family to speak of and all my friends are guys.” He looks away. “I have the MC and a couple of their wives are helpful, but nothin’ regular.” He grins. “Which is why you should come to dinner tonight.”

I bite the inside of my cheek and glance up at him, my heart pounding in my chest. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Do I look like a joker?”

No, he doesn’t.

“Well, it’s weird. I mean, Belle is my student.”

“So why is that weird?”

I don’t know exactly. All I know is that my clit won’t stop throbbing, and that feels wrong considering the circumstances.

“You don’t have to stay forever, just come to dinner. It would be nice to have the company.” He steps forward, moves around my desk, and takes my hand, pulling it up against his chest. “I like you, Ms. Fraiser. Last night, when I was sitting on your couch, all I thought about was busting through your bedroom door and making you feel good. I can say inviting you over is for Belle, but that’s only partially true. I want you there too.”

My stomach tightens, and a shiver runs down my spine. I’ve never been looked at like this in my life. I’ve never been spoken to this directly either. I squeeze my thighs together to quell the urge, but it’s not working. My breath quickens, my mouth goes dry, my lips part, and he must pick up on all that because his giant rough hand lands on my cheek and he angles in slowly.

“I’m gonna protect you. Whatever it takes.” He leans down and brushes his lips against mine.

As my heart stops, I can feel myself dying. I can’t breathe. I’m not even sure my blood is still circulating.

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