Page 40 of Prospect Year

Leaning slightly to her left, she grabbed a thermos and handed it to him.

“You just stole my heart.” He leaned close until his lips brushed the corner of her eye. He swore he could feel the heat that colored her cheeks as she glanced away, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

Thermos in one hand and list in the other, Lola turned, walking from the room, but he paused at the doorway. Glancing back, he met her eyes and winked before heading out.

Chapter 19

Lola awoke to his phone going off before his alarm. Grabbing it from the nightstand, he swiped the screen to read the text.

Valentine’s Day. Instructions at clubhouse. On bar.

Typing in his standard reply, he tossed it onto the bed beside him. Throwing his arm over his eyes, he waited to be sure no other orders came on the tail end of that one. When nothing else came, he forced himself up and got dressed. Must be a busy day to begin this early, he thought as he made his way toward the kitchen for a liquid breakfast.

As usual, Mia beat him to the kitchen and was cooking. Today, she stood at the stove scrambling eggs.

“Sunshine, I don’t have time to sit down with you to eat. Sorry.”

She tilted her head and flashed him her sweet smile before pointing toward the coffee pot.

“Ah. I can do a quick drink,” he told her, grabbing a mug from the shelf. He filled the mug and stood, savoring each drop as Mia continued to flit about the space. “I gotta go,” he said, placing the empty mug in the sink.

Her gentle touch to his arm stopped him as always. When he turned back, she held out a travel mug and something wrapped in a cloth napkin.

“What’s this?”

She pointed to the flour tortillas and the skillet where she had cooked the eggs.

“Thank you. I needed this.” He leaned in as he relieved her of his breakfast and brushed his lips across her rosy cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he whispered.

***

The clubhouse was silent as Lola strolled toward the bar. As promised, his instructions were all laid out. He couldn’t help but huff a laugh with a shake of his head. Envelopes were lined up on the bar addressed to the old ladies and daughters. Next to the envelopes were instructions detailing what to deliver and where. Reading through the instructions, he organized them in order by time and place to make the deliveries efficient.

The first stop was the flower shop. Leaving with ten arrangements all securely placed in his Jeep, he set off for the jewelry store. With the single jewelry box tucked in the glove compartment, he headed to his first stop. With half the flowers delivered, he checked the time and headed for the next delivery.

Pulling up to the main entrance of the high school, he reached across the vehicle, popping open the glove box for the long slim present from the jeweler. He stepped to the ground and leaned into the back floorboard, pulling a rose from the arrangements, then headed inside. He had arrived at just the precise time to maneuver through the crowd of students on their lunch break.

“I need to see Skye Jarreau,” he told the secretary.

She glanced at the row of deliveries already lined up on the office desk and looked back at Lola with slumped shoulders and tired eyes.

“Point me in a direction and I’ll deliver them for you,” he told the older woman.

“You know, I shouldn’t,” she told him, “But even one less that I have to handle would be a blessing.”

“No problem. Which way?” he asked.

“Most likely in the cafeteria. Through those doors.” She pointed out the double doors across the lobby from the office.

“Thanks,” he said and headed into the mass of teenagers. Passing through the doors, he hesitated, searching the table-filled room for Skye.

“Can I help you?” a man asked. He didn’t appear to be much older than Lola, so no doubt he was a duty teacher.

“Do you know where I can find Skye Jarreau?”

The man studied Lola a moment, and Lola guessed he was deciding whether to trust him or not.

“You’re not a student here,” the man finally said.

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