Page 13 of Claimed By my Best Friend

“Me too, angel.” I wrap my arms tightly around her, afraid that if I let go, she’ll disappear. “Me too.”

Chapter Six

Paula

My mind is stuck on Darrell and the weekend we shared, and I catch myself smiling at odd times of the day. Some of the kids call me out on it, but it does nothing to take away from the excitement of spending the weekend with Darrell.

“So, did you finally get to ride that stallion?”

I jump at the voice in my ear, my head whipping around to find my co-teacher, Eleanor, standing behind me. She has a knowing smile on her face, and I flush, looking around to make sure none of the kids running around heard her. The precious little darlings always look distracted, but they have the hearing of bats.

“What’s a stallion, Miss Tate?”

“A horse,” I say, panicked, clearing my voice when it cracks. “It’s a horse.”

The eight-year-old seems satisfied by my answer, and he runs along.

“I bet your man is hung like a horse, alright!”

“Oh, Jesus,” I groan, glaring at Eleanor who laughs at my stricken look. Eleanor has been a close friend ever since I started working at Valor Springs Elementary, where we co-teach second grade. She is crude and nosy, but she’s loyal and protective to a fault.

The school where we work is small and doesn’t have a lot of kids, but I love every inch of the place and the people in it. I feel at home here. Eleanor has known about my crush on Darrell, and I can’t believe she would bring it up now.

“Come with me,” I say, pushing out of my chair and walking to the furthest corner of the room, out of the kids’ earshot but somewhere I can still keep an eye on them.

“You worry too much,” Eleanor laughs, leaning against the flower-painted wall and flashing me a knowing smile.

“They are kids; they pick up things they are not supposed to hear faster than the things we teach them.”

“Sure. So about you and yourbest friend...”

“Why do you say ‘best friend’ like that?”

She laughs again. “Because I think it’s impossible for a man and a woman to be best friends unless one of them swings the other way, and I have seen the way that man looks at you.” She wiggles her brows at me. “So, did he finally swing his bat your way?”

“Jesus, Eleanor!” I cry out, running a hand over my flushed face before leaning in to whisper. “Can’t you just ask if I had you-know-what with him like a normal person?” I ask, not even willing to risk spelling it out.

“So, did you?”

I chuckle. Sex doesn’t begin to cover what happened between Darrell and me this weekend. The word is too simple, too small to encompass what we shared. “All I can say is I had a hard time walking this morning.”

“Why? Are you sick, Miss Tate?”

I jump at the little person I hadn’t seen walk up to us. Shit! This is why we shouldn’t be having this conversation here. I crouch down so I am on eye level with the worried child, and I hate myself a little for worrying the young girl. “I’m not sick, Penny. I just didn’t sleep well and I’m really tired.”

“Oh!” she says. “My mommy says I have to go to bed early if I’m tired during the day. You should go to bed early tonight.”

“That’s a great idea, thank you.”

She nods and then off she goes. Elanor goes to crack a joke—and I can see it in her eyes that it’s a lewd one—but I toss her a warning glare, which makes her laugh instead. “Well, I better get everyone moving for library time,” she says, and I breathe out a sigh of relief, but it proves to be premature. “Oh, and about the thing that kept you from sleeping all weekend, you better be careful, or you could end up losing a lot more sleep in nine months or so.” And with that, she’s gone.

Her words stay with me, and I find my hand going to my stomach the rest of the day. She’s right. Darrell and I didn’t use any protection all weekend, and I am not on the pill. The thought of getting pregnant with the man’s child fills me with so much joy that I find myself smiling whenever I think about him, but this time, for an entirely different reason.

It’s a smile that stays on me even when he picks me up from work. Darrell dropped me off this morning, and my heart jumps when I see his truck pull up in the lot. A pulsing feeling between my legs grows when the man steps out of his truck ina white tee and blue jeans. Christ, he looks so good, I want to climb him like a tree and lick the tattoos on his massive biceps.

“You look happy to see me,” he teases, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him.

“I am,” I answer, slapping his chest playfully. “We can’t do this here!”

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