Page 38 of Reckless Desire

He thinks for a moment, not jumping at the opportunity. I don’t know if he struggles with the same objections as me or just doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is he considers his failure.

“Okay,” he says at last. “I’m picking her up today. Maybe we can show you our ice cream route.” He glides away to catch up with Caro.

The man glides for real. He moves like a graceful predator. Powerful and lithe. And how did an after-school parent-teacher meeting turn into an ice cream outing with them?

I thought he wasn’t interested. He said he was glad I never called. And now, after the almost kiss in the kitchen, he is acting… I don’t know how, but definitely putting me into an impossible situation.

I’m his daughter’s teacher. Even if he’s not married now, he was at the time of our first meeting, and still he asked me out. That’s not a pattern I can ever accept. I groan again. It seems the sound of the day. I can’t think with this hangover. I’ll be happy if I somehow live through the day.

“Mrs. Lowe, hurry up,” Caroline urges me and I catch up with them, walking alongside her, with Hunter holding her hand on the other side. Our eyes meet and I’m instantly teleported back to his kitchen. He’s devouring me with his eyes. Why? What encouraged him to act like this? It’s very different from last night. The portion I remember.

Did I say something to give him any ideas? Shit. I look away as someone bumps into me. We’re almost at school. Whatever he thinks is possible between us, my temporary paralysis in his kitchen probably sent him the wrong signal.

“Mrs. Lowe, would you like a copy of my magazine?” Caroline snaps me out of my freak-out.

“You have a magazine?” I meet her beautiful eyes. They are large and brown, not like her father’s at all, but they are rimmed with thick, long lashes just like Hunter’s.

“Yes, I have an issue every month, summarizing all that happened. I mean the not boring stuff. Mommy suggested it,” she says with pride.

Of course. She has a mom. And where is she? “I’d love a copy. Thank you, Caroline.”

“You’re welcome. I believe you’ll read it. Uncle Ash throws it out, I’m sure. His understanding of my news is understating.” She rolls her eyes and I don’t hold back my chuckle.

“Underwhelming, Caro,” Hunter corrects her. “A lot of Uncle Ash is underwhelming, but he has a good heart.”

“I don’t think he has one. The other day he yelled at a pigeon who pooped on his jacket. The poor bird can’t choose where its poops fall.”

We both laugh at her stance as she shakes her head and spreads her little arms in dismay. But also because I’ve only met Ash once, but I can picture him yelling at birds.

“I’ll meet you in the classroom, Caro. Can I call you Caro?”

“Of course, all important people call me that.” She turns and hops up the stairs. Her deeming me important spreads a pleasant fuzz around me and scares me at the same time. This is what I’ve been avoiding as a sub teacher. I don’t want to be someone’s important person. It only leads to a brutal heartache.

“I’ll see you this afternoon,” Hunter whispers, and it definitely doesn’t sound like a formal school meeting. I need to stop it now, but he wants to open up about something he clearly considers his failure in regards to Caro. I can’t ignore that.

“Have a nice day.” It’s all I say before I walk away, trying hard not to run. Yesterday was a disaster and today is not shaping up any better. A ball of confusion and guilt rolls slowly around my stomach, adding to my alcohol-induced nausea.

And it only gets worse when I spot Dan who is glaring in Hunter’s direction.

ChapterThirteen

Sydney

Iknew something was amiss as soon as Caro’s large brown eyes widened and her shoulders shot up in tension. Reading in front of the class could intimidate many kids, let alone someone who didn’t yet have friends or any history here.

But her reaction when I asked her to pick up where we left off in the book was more than the usual shyness or stage fright.

She swallowed hard, her eyes pleading.

“Or actually, I just realized it’s almost recess, so let’s talk about your homework.” While the entire class groaned, Caro’s lips quivered with a smile. She exhaled and closed her eyes briefly.

That’s why I asked her to stay behind when the other girls ran out to enjoy the playground.

“What do you mean you can’t read?” I sit beside her at her desk to ensure she feels safe.

“It’s too hard. I can’t learn it. I think I might be stupid.” She shrugs, stretching the hem of her skirt with her fingers.

“Caro, look at me, please.” I teeter between authority and kindness. She lets out the saddest sigh and turns her head, chocolate brown eyes full of hurt. “You’re not stupid. I know I only met you yesterday and I don’t know a lot about you yet, but one thing is clear. You’re very bright.”

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