Page 76 of Taming His Teacher

She’s worried about being my boss, but honestly I find it sexy that she’s so…organized. Administrative tasks don’t appeal to me. I’d rather teach an extra class or tack an hour onto practice than deal with all that paperwork. But I love how she sets out all her color-coded Post-its and pens, making her tidy notes with that handwriting: pretty, round and neat, like her. It does something to me.

Office supplies sexy? Yup, total perv, right here. What I could do with those binder clips…

But we’re back at school and the guys are all wandering back to the dorms from study hall, so there’s no privacy for a kiss, never mind what I’d really like to do to her. I pull my car up behind Sullivan and walk her to the entrance, taking the chance to slip my little finger around hers at the door before the guys see.

“Have a good night. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Go work on your application. It’s due by six on Friday, right?”

Her cheeks go pink and the hand not linked with mine clutches her skirt. “Yes, Zach.”

She’s such a tease sometimes, and the devious smile on her face tells me she knows it. Two of the guys are approaching and I lean down to threaten her mildly before they get too close. “Your ass is going to look so pretty with my handprints all over it this weekend.”

“Yes, Zach,” she whispers as she slides her finger out of my grip and turns to open the door, her skirt twirling out and showing a few inches of thigh. Christ. I know what I’ll be doing when I get back to my apartment. But I have one more stop before I get there.

I drop off my car behind Meyer and walk across campus, keeping away from the lit paths and sticking to the shadows of the trees and buildings. The guys are all in their rooms, but it’s not them I’m hiding from. Erin’s got a good view of the quad from her apartment and I don’t want her to see me.

When I’ve reached my destination, I rap on the door and it opens a few seconds later. I’m expected.

“Shep. Come on in.”

A few minutes later, I’ve taken a seat in a green leather wingback chair and Mrs. Wilson has foisted a glass of brandy on me. I’ve never had brandy and I’m not in a hurry to start, but I take a sip to be polite and to sand off the sharp edges of anxiety digging at my stomach. I’m not a nervous person and I’m dead certain about what I’m about to ask for, but it doesn’t stop my lungs from feeling too small, like I can’t take a deep enough breath.

Headmaster and Mrs. Wilson are both staring and I should speak up, say something, but I’m overcome by the memory of eating pot roast in this house after being with Erin at the hospital. They exchange a glance and then the Headmaster clears his throat. “You wanted to speak with us?”

I take another sip because my throat’s gone dry.

“Is this about Caleb?”

“No, sir. It’s about Erin.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yeah. I mean, yes, sir. She’s good. Really good. She’s going to apply for the department Chair.”

“Good, I was hoping she would. I’ll expect her application by Friday evening. I don’t think that’s what you came here to talk about, though.”

“No, sir.”Come on, Shepherd, man up.“I guess you know Erin and I have been spending a lot of time together.”

“I had noticed that, yes.”

“I’d like to spend even more time with her. Like, forever. I…I’m going to ask Erin to marry me.” I’ve already started thinking of how I might do it. It needs to be something that’ll make her bubble over with bliss. I’d want to do something special anyway because I love her and I want to make her happy any chance I get, but it’s a little selfish, too. I want this to feel miles away from when she had to marry Will.

Headmaster Wilson, on the other hand, does not seem excited about the prospect at all. His white walrus eyebrows have drawn together and he’s frowning. Fuck.

“She’s not—”

“No, she’s not pregnant. You have my word. I’m not asking her because I have to. I’m asking her because I want to. I want to be with her, every day, for the rest of our lives.”

“You’re young for that, aren’t you, Mr. Shepherd?”

Oh, we’re back to “Mr. Shepherd.” But I’ve come prepared for this particular question. “Aren’t you and Mrs. Wilson celebrating your fiftieth wedding anniversary this year?”

He settles back into his own wingback and takes a sip of brandy, looking so much more at ease than I feel here. “Touché. And you’re here because?”

“Because you’re the closest thing Erin has to family and I’d like your blessing. I’m going to ask her whether I get it or not, but I’d like your support.”

“Why do you want to marry Erin?”

Something inside me roars to life, but I smother it. I don’t need to protect Erin from the Wilsons. They love her like a granddaughter and that question is way more about me than it is about her. “Why wouldn’t I want to marry her? She’s smart, she’s sweet, and she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. She loves it here and I do, too. I want to build a life with her here.”

---