Page 5 of Guarding Her Heart
Jenny: Sounds good. See you then.
Ethan: Looking forward to it.
Tucking my phone back into my pocket, I try to focus on the rest of the day, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Ethan. He’s charming, confident, and clearly interested. And while part of me is cautious, thanks to all that Richard has put me through, the other part is excited—excited to see where this could lead.
When the final bell rings, I’m practically buzzing with anticipation. Brooke pops her head into my classroom just as I’m gathering my things to leave, a knowing grin on her face.
“You’ve got that look,” she says, crossing her arms as she leans against the doorframe.
“What look?” I ask, feigning innocence as I slip my phone into my bag.
“The one that says you’re about to do something exciting,” she teases. “Come on, spill it. Did he text you?”
“Maybe,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant even as I feel a flutter of excitement in my chest. “We’re meeting for coffee after school.”
Brooke practically bounces with excitement. “Yes! This is going to be so great. You’ve got to call me with all the details afterward.”
“I will,” I promise, laughing at her enthusiasm. She may be more excited about my coffee date than I am. “But let’s see how it goes first.”
“Fair enough,” Brooke says, giving me a quick hug. “Good luck and have fun. You deserve it.”
“Thanks, Brooke,” I say, feeling a warm surge of affection for my best friend.
With that, I grab my bag and head out the door, my heart pounding with anticipation. The drive to the café feels both too long and too short at the same time. When I finally arrive, I spot Ethan sitting at a table near the window, a smile lighting up his face when he sees me. I could get used to that, quickly.
“Hey, you made it,” he says, standing up to greet me.
“Of course,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady as I take in the sight of him. He’s got muscles with muscles and is so tall that if I stood right in front of him, I’d have to look all the way up to see his dark brown eyes. With his military haircut and bright white smile, I could stare at him all day. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
“Good,” he says, his smile widening. “Because I was starting to worry you might have gotten cold feet.”
“Not a chance,” I tease, slipping into the chair across from him. “But if I had, would you have come looking for me?”
“Oh, absolutely,” he replies, his tone playful but with a hint of sincerity beneath it. “I’d have tracked you down, coffee in hand, ready to convince you to join me. It’s a SEAL thing.”
I laugh, feeling the tension in my shoulders melt away. “I can’t say I’d mind that kind of persistence.”
“Good to know,” he says with a wink. “Because I’m not the type to give up easily.”
Our banter continues as we order our drinks from the shops owner, Kate Benson, the conversation flowing effortlessly. There’s a lightness between us that makes it easy to let my guard down, to just be myself. And the more we talk, the more I find myself drawn to his wit and charm.
“So, tell me,” Ethan says, leaning forward with a grin. “What’s the most outrageous thing a first grader has ever said to you?”
I think for a moment, trying to sift through the countless hilarious moments I’ve had in the classroom. “Oh, that’s a tough one. But there was this one time when a little boy raised his hand in the middle of a math lesson and asked, ‘Ms. Dalton, do you think dinosaurs had belly buttons?’”
Ethan bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s priceless. And what did you say?”
“I told him that since dinosaurs hatched from eggs, they probably didn’t need belly buttons,” I say, grinning. “But then, of course, he spent the rest of the day trying to convince me that maybe, just maybe, they did.”
“That’s amazing,” Ethan says, shaking his head in amusement. “Kids are the best. They have no filter, just pure curiosity.”
“Exactly,” I agree, feeling a warm glow in my chest. “That’s why I love teaching them. Every day is an adventure.”
Ethan’s gaze softens, and for a moment, I feel like he’s seeing past the playful banter, really seeing me. “You’re amazing, Jenny. You know that?”
I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks. “I think you might be a little biased.”
“Maybe,” he says, his smile widening. “But I don’t say things I don’t mean.”
