Page 23 of Closing the Distance

She leans against the doorframe leading to the kitchen, her head resting against the wall and her eyes tracing over each item. Her body seems to relax with every breath she takes, and her eyes soften when she looks at me. Her look tugs at something deep in my chest—something so much deeper than just wanting to bury myself inside her.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice low but filled with gratitude.

This woman has no idea what I’d do for her—the lengths I’m willing to go.

Unwilling to stay away from her any longer, I move toward her and wrap my arms around her waist. Without hesitation, she leans against me, her arms wrapping around my neck. Her lips meet mine, and all at once, everything is right in my world. This right here is all I need.

“Is it your morning sickness?”

She tucks her head against my chest, and warmth moves swiftly through my entire body that she’s seeking comfort from me.

“You mean all-day sickness?” she murmurs. “I swear it’s gotten worse this week. I think I’ve just done too much the past few days, and I’m paying for it.”

“How can I help?” My lips brush against her black hair.

She lets out a contented little sigh. “This is kinda nice.”

I tighten my arms around her. “I’m happy to provide this whenever you need.”

“Mmm.”

I pull back enough to see her eyes closed as she rests against me. This close, it’s impossible to miss the bags under her eyes. Has she not been sleeping well?

Bending down, I sweep my arm under her knees and lift her up. She gives a little mumble of protest, but her eyes remain closed, and her arms tighten around my neck. I don’t bother stopping in the living room but head straight to her room, placing her gently on her bed and then covering her up with a soft fleece blanket from a small chair in the corner of the room.

When I move to go grab some of the snacks I brought to put on her nightstand, she grabs my hand, stopping me. Her tired blue eyes blink up at me, and there’s a faint hint of vulnerability in her gaze. “Will you stay with me?”

“Yeah,” I croak, unfamiliar emotion and need hitting me from all sides. God, I’d stay with her every night if I thought she’d let me. The fact she’s asking me to now, and I have to leave her tomorrow, is already killing me.

I kick off my shoes, then climb into bed with her. She instantly curls into my side, her head resting on that spot between my shoulder and chest, her arm draped over my waist. She tucks her nose against my shirt and inhales. I wince, imagining that I probably smell like sweat since I didn’t bother to shower before heading over here. Luckily we were only doing light drills today or else I would stink.

A deep sound escapes her throat, and her whole body seems to melt against me. “You smell so good.”

I close my eyes and drop a kiss to the top of her head. “Glad you think so.”

Her breath evens out quickly, sleep pulling her under, and I don’t know how long I watch her, my heart aching with how badly I want her to want me like this all the time. How much I want her to let herself rely on me. How much I want to let all my own doubts go so I can really enjoy the feelings this woman evokes in me. Eventually, my eyes start to grow heavy as sleep drags me under, all my tight muscles loosening the longer her lavender scent hits my nose.

It’s the best night of sleep I’ve ever had.

THIRTEEN

“I am so sick of people telling me how to do my job,” Blaire says as she bursts into my classroom during our planning period.

“Well, hello to you too.”

She sits on top of one of the student desks in front of mine. “Seriously. Everyone and their mother thinks they can tell us how to do our damn job. Oh, I’m sorry, did you go to four years of college to learn how to individualize instruction for twenty-five plus different learners in one room? No? Then maybe you should sit down and shut up.”

She growls, literally growls, and I sit back in my chair laughing, which only seems to make her ire rise. “How are you not pissed off by these new ‘standards’ they’ve thrown at us that are basically the old standards repackaged and with a bunch of fancy words that don’t actually mean anything but come with a truck-ton of extra paperwork for us?”

I shrug. “Because I know what’s best for my students, and the test scores for my kids prove it. Every year, they show growth, and since those numbers back me up, no one bothers to ask me how I’m doing it.”

“How are you doing it?”

“I teach them the basics and then we go from there. They’re meeting those standards whether I package it that way or not. I also adapt the lessons for my kiddos in a way that can also be helpful for all my students.”

“That’s why you only take Friday nights off. Damn, that’s a ton of work. I didn’t realize you were doing so much extra.”

“I’m going to need to find a better way to do it once the baby is here. I can’t sacrifice my own child for other people’s, no matter how much I love my students.”

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