Page 1 of Baby One More Time

CHAPTER 1

Lucian

The bus pulls up and it’s so damn loud that my head hurts immediately. The brakes squeak and grind and I have to wonder how the hell they picked this bus to take on the field trip today. It sounds like it’s on its last legs.

I turn to look at the teacher. “Mrs. Framer? Are you sure about this?”

She grins. “I know it sounds bad but it’s actually a pretty good bus. Runs every day with no problems.” She turns back to the kids, her short, iron-gray hair curling wildly in the heat. School is barely getting going this week but this field trip takes the kids to the fair that runs on the outskirts of Pine Grove every year at this time. It’s a tradition that I took part in when I was younger. I like knowing that my daughter is following in my footsteps to participate in the same things I did. Makes me feel settled and I hope it does the same thing for her.

I know she’s been upset for a long time. Her mother left us when she was only six and it’s been just us since then. I’d like to say it was a huge fight or something dramatic that sent her running instead of she just got tired of being married. Just got sick of being a mom and did a runner.

Two months later, when I’d almost given up hope of hearing from her, she popped up again but not in the way I’d maybe hoped. She had me served with divorce papers.

I don’t know that I was ever in love with Melissa but I cared about her. I wanted to make our relationship work after she got pregnant. But it just wasn’t working. All we did was fight and I suppose I should thank her for having the strength to leave and hold firm to the end of what we had.

I reach down and drag my daughter up against me for a quick hug. “Hey, kiddo! How are you doing?”

She flushes and pushes me away from her. “Stop, Dad,” she hisses. “You’re embarrassing me!”

She wriggles out of my arms and stomps away from me. “Hey!” I holler quietly, my heart knocking against my ribs as my lovely, grumpy, nine-year old daughter leaves me in the dust.

A soft chuckle wisps out of the woman standing next to me. “Don’t you just love the kids at this age?”

For some reason the voice sounds familiar and my heart bangs against my ribs as I turn to face the woman to my side. Her wild blond hair corkscrews out of a simple ponytail and her pale blue eyes stare up at me, narrowing like she sees a familiarity too.

My eyes widen as it hits me. “Serena Shire?”

She flinches and my eyes wander down her softly-curved body which is even sexier than it was when we were dating in high school.

Her blue eyes narrow. “Serena Talon.” And I see the exact moment that she realizes who the hell I am. Hurt radiates from her soft eyes before she covers it up by staring down at the concrete of the sidewalk like it’s the most amazing thing in the world.

“Lucian Marino. How…interesting to see you.”

I tug at my neon tank top and groan silently. This is awful! But she looks so beautiful. Even more so than when I first saw her in high school as a very nervous freshman. We were both scared freshman and I knew as soon as I saw her that she was special. Her hair was up in a scrunchie and just a mass of corkscrew golden curls. She was wearing a pair of overalls and a soft green t-shirt that made her look gorgeous. Her big blue eyes stared around and her pink lips were smashed into a tight line nervously.

She was gorgeous and sweet. I stopped in front of her and smiled. “Are you new here?”

She looked up and up. Then dropped her gaze. She was so damn tiny. “Yeah.” She stared at her sneaker-clad feet and shuffled a bit.

“Do you have your schedule yet?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I see it?”

She holds out the piece of paper in a shaky hand tipped with neon pink nails.

I take it and smile at her. “Well, you’re in my English class first so I can walk with you?”

Her head comes up and for the first time I see her smile. My heart stutters to a halt. Lord, she’s pretty. “Thank you!”

“What’s your name?” I handed her back her paper already and I could kick myself for not looking.

“Serena Shire.”

“I’m Lucian Marino.” The bell rings and the crowd starts moving, carrying us along. I block somebody who shuffles along and gets knocked over into her.

She smiles at me again, her blue eyes dancing. “Thank you.” I can’t catch my breath. Everything about her makes me want to hand her my heart on a silver platter for all time.

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