Page 102 of Grin and Bear It

“But your relationship with Miss Jennings, Ellie… It changes when you decide it does. Me and your uncles have talked a lot, and we share all the conversations we have with her as well. No one is talking about moving in, of trying to replace your mom, or to put Ellie into a role I don’t think either of you are ready for. So you can ride home with Uncle Cole when he picks up Ellie, or with me, or one of your other uncles. I can’t always promise ice cream.” A small smile from them at that. “But you’re welcome to talk to all of us about your concerns.”

“See,” Maddox said in a small voice.

“Shut up, Mads.” Knox gave his brother a shove, but there was no real power to it, so I could tell it was just the usual bullshit.

I could hearEllie’s voice when I walked into the house and she lured me closer like a siren, wanting more. Her and Cole looked up as I slid open the glass door and by that flush in her cheeks, he’d been suggesting something filthy to her. I sucked in a deep breath. Yep, real filthy.

“Hey,” my mate said, turning to the three of us and waving. “Boys, your Uncle Nash said you might like some help with your assignments. If you do, I’m happy to help. If not, I’ll head home and get some of my own work done.”

“I’ve got something you can help me with…” Cole murmured into her ear, but that was cut off by a big oof as her elbow found its way into his ribs. “God, woman—”

“Guys?” she asked, stepping away from my errant sleuthmate.

Maddox looked at Knox and the boy just shrugged, opening his bag up and pulling out an exercise book.

“Is this right?” Knox flicked to a page packed with dense writing. “Mrs Hollows said that I needed to show not tell, but I don’t really get what she’s trying to say.”

“Ah, this is a narrative?” Ellie asked. Knox nodded. “OK, so…”

She sat down at the table and I found myself doing the same, just watching her become this whole other person. Authoritative but not authoritarian, watching the boys as she explained, slowing down to check understanding and then using another method to make her point when that wasn’t working. I stared at her, knowing that I was probably being real creepy, but unable to stop, until Cole caught my eye and then nodded. He knew exactly how I felt. Ellie then grabbed out a red pen and started working through Knox’s draft with him, making suggestions and then helping him rephrase stuff.

“So champ, you want help with your math assignment?” I asked Maddox.

“Mine’s mostly done,” he said, pulling out his book. “But if you could check it for me?”

“Sure thing, kid,” I said with a wink. “Let’s take a look.”

Chapter51

This was awkward. Really fucking awkward.

As a teacher, I liked to keep as much of my home life away from school as possible, and hopefully vice versa. I didn’t manage it well, often having marking, reports and endless emails to send when I got home, but the other stuff? The Ellie is a hot mess stuff, the Ellie as a woman stuff, I didn’t want that in the classroom at all. Walking in wearing my floral piñata dress was embarrassing enough. I hadn’t gotten my shit together enough to wash my clothes, so mad frock from hell it was, but this? I scanned Knox’s work, picking up typos and badly phrased sentences, punctuation errors and underlining them, all the while conscious of them.

Tyson was so damn big I was never going to miss him, but sitting at the table two places away from me? I could almost feel the heat radiating off his body from where I was sitting and then there were those wafts of fresh, piney, masculine scent. I frowned, willing myself to ignore that and focus more on Knox’s work.

“Is it shit?” There was a slightly tremulous element to the boy’s voice that I never heard in class. “It is, isn’t it? It’s shit, total shit.” Knox threw himself back in his chair. “I never—”

“It’s not shit, Knox.” He paused then, eyeing me closely, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but I just stayed as I was, waiting him out. “It’s not. I teach English too, sometimes, so I can tell you categorically it's not shit. It just needs some work.”

“So why were you doing that frowny thing then?” he demanded.

I snorted and shook my head. “I was concentrating and my head hurts.” It didn’t, but I couldn’t exactly tell the truth. “I think I need a coffee.”

“I’ll make you one.” Cole’s rich, deep voice, his presence as it got closer, I frowned when I felt his hand on my shoulder, giving it a little squeeze, the heat still there after he’d moved into the kitchen. Probably because I could still hear the words he uttered as the boys walked in the door in my ears.

“I want to paint you,” Cole had said when we got to his home.

“What? If this is more of the paintbrush kink shit,” I’d replied in a hiss, “this is so not the time. I’m here to help the boys. And only to help the boys.”

“Interesting that that’s where your mind went, beautiful, but no, not that kind of painting.” Cole had nodded to a solid wooden building in the garden. “That’s my studio. I paint whatever takes my fancy in there.”

“I thought you gave up wanting to be an artist,” I’d replied.

“I have, but… Some blokes like to go fishing or hunting.” He’d shrugged then. “I like to paint in my spare time.” But any hint of awkwardness on his part was shoved to one side as he stepped closer. “I’d really like to paint you. Nude, sitting on the little daybed I’ve got inside there. I’d use these soft brushes I’ve got to paint every curve, right before I—”

The sound of the sliding door opening had stopped that conversation cold, but I wasn’t exactly feeling chill about it.

Then Cole returned.

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