Page 10 of Just a Little White Lie

Wine bottle’s empty.

That explains the slightly dopey look on her face.

Cute. I snicker, but she doesn’t seem to hear me. Instead, she lets out a sigh and slumps back on the couch, closing her eyes like she’s just giving up for the night.

“Night, night,” she mumbles, smacking her lips together like she’s a cartoon character or something.

I can’t help another soft snicker as I quietly approach her.

Peeking at her screen, I can see she’s got theTeacher’s Gazetteopen and is looking for jobs.

Good on her.

I wonder if she’s finished her résumé yet. I’d love to take a look at it, but that would probably be crossing a line. If she asks me to proof it for her, I’ll happily oblige, but I better not go sneaking around on her laptop.

She lets out a little moan, and I settle down beside her. I can’t help it. She’s looking all cute and sweet on the couch, her hair all mussed up and her Tinker Bell nose twitching. I’ve always loved her nose.

Closing my eyes, I tip my head back.

You can’t love anything about her, man. Check yourself.

Rolling my eyes, I shake my head at my inability to just look at this woman and not think about how much I like her. Has it always been this way?

Okay, yeah, I don’t want to answer that question.

With a short sniff, I reach for her laptop, ready to shut the lid and somehow get Lauren to bed.

Luke will—

She lets out a sudden gasp and bolts upright. I’m guessing she regrets that decision, because the little groan that follows her sudden movement is pitiful. Holding her head, she slumps back down again.

“You finished the whole bottle,” I murmur, trying to keep my voice light and playful. “Only you, Drunk Skunk.”

“Shuddup,” she mutters, cracking one eye open to glare at me. “What are you doing?”

“Uh… looking at theGazette.” It’s the best I can do. It’s not like I can admit that I’m checking her out, admiring her fairy-like nose and trying not to notice the beautiful shape of her breasts. I force my eyes back to the screen. “There are some pretty decent jobs here. You’ll easily pick something up. As soon as your résumé’s done, you can—”

“It’s done!” she slurs with a triumphant smile. “It’s amazing.”

I grin. “Good for you.”

“But I can’t apply.” Her bottom lip sticks out, her head lolling from side to side. “I can’t go back to teaching. London was hard, and I don’t know if I’ve got it in me.” Her voice starts to wobble like she’s gonna start crying.

It makes my chest all tight, and I have this overwhelming need to fix it for her.

“Yeah, you do.” I soften my voice. “You’re a great teacher.”

She frowns, then huffs and closes her eyes again.

“Need a job so bad,” she whines. “Screwed up so bad.” Her eyes pop open, and I see how glassy they are. Glassy with tears that are about to fall if I don’t do something to stop them. “I don’t want to go back, but I can’t do anything else. I just have to suffer.”

I give her a sympathetic smile, which seems to weird her out because she leans away from me, the frown on her face deepening.

“It’s not funny,” she mumbles.

“I’m not laughing.” I’m about to ask her how I can help when she randomly opens her mouth and starts singing.

O-kay.

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