Page 56 of Breaking News

Probably.

**

Fifteen minutes might have been the record for my shortest lecture so far.

No one complained. Some of my students cheered, actually. Nia asked me if I had a hot date I was trying to get to. My smile when I said no made all the young women in the class go, “Oooh!” Poor Reese had to be told we’d discuss his latest conundrum another time, and he said he’d e-mail me about it.

Great.

As I ushered all the students out so I could lock the classroom door behind them, I heard Michael say, “Mr. H is about to get some pussy.”

“Or dick,” Nia replied. “You don’t know his life.” They were too far down the hall for me to interject, but it didn’t matter. Because I wouldn’t be getting either, actually.

But then I was standing on Jill’s front porch, cereal box in hand. She pulled the door open wearing a silk, floral bathrobe that skimmed her upper thighs, and the memory of Michael’s words made me grin.

Jesus Christ.

“I apologize about my appearance,” she said, taking the box from my hands as I stepped inside. “I just took the longest bubble bath on record.”

My eyes trailed from her hair, half pulled back with a clip, down to her bare legs. “I will somehow muster the strength to look at you, but thanks for apologizing, anyway.”

“I commend your bravery.”

She led me to her kitchen, where she set the box on the counter. It looked—and smelled—like she might have just cleaned in here. Aside from the Cocoa Pebbles, the countertops were bare, and a lit candle flickered on one corner on the butcher block surface.

I adjusted my tie, eyeing the printed photo of her with another blonde-haired woman on a porch swing. The woman looked just like her, just a couple decades older. It was attached to her fridge with a tiny avocado magnet. “That your mom?”

“Yup,” she said, backing against the cabinet to lean on her hands. “Carla Taylor, the crockpot queen of Tennessee.”

I smiled, slipping my hands in my pockets. “She seems sweet.”

“She is.” Jill folded her arms against her chest. “Just don’t cross her when she’s had too much sangria, because she’ll put you in your place.”

“Does that run in the family?”

Jill’s mouth dropped open. “Graham!” She laughed, bending her knee to press her bare foot firm against the white cabinet door behind her. Her bathrobe gaped open a little, coming dangerously close to exposing what was underneath. I grinned at her before glancing around for something I could focus on to distract myself.

“So,” I said, gazing at the floor. “How are you feeling now?”

She let out a long, satisfied sigh. “Honestly? This is the best I’ve felt all week. Not sure if it’s due to the rest or the lingering effects of the pain pill or the scalding hot bath, but I’m finally starting to feel human again.”

“That’s good,” I said, hoping her relief would be more than just temporary. My hands sank lower into my pockets as I tried not to picture her naked body in a bathtub. “I’m glad.”

Jill grinned at me, and I watched her eyes travel up and down my body. “You haven’t taken your hands out of your pockets since you walked in here.”

“Because I’m afraid of what I might try to touch if I don’t keep them there.” I swallowed.

Her smile widened, and her knee shifted just enough for me to almost get a glimpse between her legs. I no longer felt the need to pretend like I wasn’t looking, because this felt like an invitation. “Don’t be afraid, Graham,” she teased.

My eyes flicked up to hers. “I am showingsomuch restraint right now.”

“I’d rather you be holding restraints,” she said, drawing out the “s” sound at the end of that word.

Fuck me.

My hands lifted from my pockets, and I held my breath, feeling my pants tighten at the front. “You should know better than to tease me like that.”

“You don’t think I’m serious?”

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