Page 2 of Rascal

Their waitress brought their meals. They cut the burger and the barbecued beef sandwich in half and traded them along with dividing the fries and onion rings.

He waited until she took her first bite. Her slight groan at the taste of the hamburger had him surreptitiously adjusting himself under the table. He hadn’t popped a stiff dick in public in the last twenty years. He busied himself with taking a bite of his burger to keep his mind off the woman in front of him.

“So if the subject’s not too sore, what classes did you teach at the college?”

Margaret realized that although the subject made her blood boil, Rascal’s whole demeanor invited her to share. It had been ages since she’d been attracted to a man. Although she worked in academia, she wasn’t attracted to any of the men she worked with. Part of that was probably a professor she’d been out on one date with bad-mouthing her to other staff. She’d walked around a corner to hear him saying with her size and age, she should be grateful anyone was willing to screw her, and he’d been irritated she hadn’t put out on their date. She hadn’t put out because the thought of his soft, doughy hands touching her had made her want to throw up. Plus, he freaking chewed with his mouth open. If he couldn’t keep his mouth closed while he chewed, did he even have a clue what he’d need to do with his tongue to please a woman? She was thankful she hadn’t fallen for anyone because she wasn’t leaving anyone behind.

Of course, her whole life was changing because she didn’t own her house. It had been provided by the college as an incentive. She wasn’t going to worry about that right now. She was going to enjoy some time with this tattooed sexy man in a vest who had everything inside her humming.

“I teach, I mean taught history, specifically relating to wars like the Civil War, WWI and II and Vietnam up to and including our current ones. Part of my class is how wars happen, if they can be avoided or are they inevitable. WWII D-Day is one of my favorite classes to teach on which is why Remington and Winchester contacted me.”

Rascal’s hand reached over and grasped hers. “I’m sorry they cut your program. I know if I’d ever gone to college that your lectures would have interested me. So they just called you in to a meeting with zero warning and cut your program?”

Margaret let her fingers curl around Rascal’s and nodded. “I’d heard rumors that our admission numbers were down, but admission numbers at colleges are down across the state. We had a faculty meeting with the president of the college two weeks ago. One of the professors in the English graduate program asked if their program was in danger. The president answered that he promised no programs were being cut. The English grad program was cut along with mine.”

Rascal shook his head. “Sounds like your president’s a dick. You know, some of the boys and I could ride up and scare him a little. We wouldn’t do anything illegal, but I bet we could make him piss his pants.”

Margaret chuckled. Oh my, this man had her imagining where things might go with him. “Let’s wait a little. I’m looking forward to this weekend and I’m sure you are too. But I’ll keep that in my back pocket to consider once I get over this initial shock.”

“Papa Wascal, whys you hewe?”

A young boy had asked the question. He was holding the hand of a girl who was a little older. Rascal scooted back and made room on his lap for both the kids.

“David, I am eating lunch with my new friend, Miss Margeret. Miss Margeret, I’d like you to meet two of my grandchildren, David, who is almost four years old and Phoebe who is almost nine years old. We have some birthdays coming up.”

Margaret smiled at the children. Rascal’s face glowed talking with the kids. You could tell so much about a person with how they treated kids. Watching Rascal interact with his grandkids let her know he was a good man. David tugged on Rascal’s beard, getting his attention.

“Papa, I’s really hung’y. Ice cweam would help my tummy not be hung’y. You know my tummy starts huwting if it gets too hung’y.”

Phoebe was shaking her head. “Papa, tell him no. Mama is picking up lunch from here and she said no desserts until later at the thingy at the park.”

David stuck his tongue out at his sister. “Tattletale.”

A woman walked up to the table and picked up David off Rascal’s lap. “David, do we need to have a chat about name calling?”

“No, Mama. I’s won’t.” He laid his head on his mom’s shoulder, then turned his head and stuck out his tongue at Phoebe again. She hadn’t been around young ones for a while. Her parents were gone, and she was an only child. The family atmosphere here was a comfort to be around.

“Mama, he’s sticking his tongue out at me again.”

“You’re not a nice sissy. I need Gwant. Code Wachel right now.”

Rascal and the woman started chuckling and Margaret wondered what a Code Rachel was.

“Daddy, Code Wachel,” David yelled when his mom didn’t say anything.

A tattooed, bearded man walked out of the kitchen wearing a vest similar to Rascal’s. His had a Vice President patch on the front. He took David out of the woman’s arms.

“Was that your outside voice or your inside voice?” he asked.

“Sowwy, Daddy, but Phoebe makes me want to scweam.”

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Rascal’s son Bear.”

She shook the man’s hand. “I’m Margaret Jamison. I’m speaking tomorrow.”

“Oh, I’m Winchester. We spoke on the phone. I thought you weren’t going to be able to come until tomorrow. I apologize for my crazy children interrupting your lunch. I’d promise it wouldn’t happen again but then I’d be lying.”

Winchester was just as nice in person as she’d been on the phone. “My plans changed, so I came early. I’ll need to find somewhere to stay. I’m guessing with the commemoration festivities rooms are at a premium.”

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