I inhale and stand up straight, determined to be professional. I will not embarrass myself and I most definitely will not embarrass a parent. I like my new job, even if I need to find a second one to pay my rent and my school loans. Losing the job I have because I’m an idiot is out of the question.
I take his hand, shaking once. His fingers are roughly smooth, with that thicker texture testosterone gives a man’s skin, and they engulf mine.
I inhale again.
“Ms. Frasier.” He nods toward my name tag and I swear his eyes are lingering on my chest. “You’re new?” Oh, his voice really is like sonic velvet.
When he releases my hand, I almost sigh. His gaze does the unconscious dance over my breasts and my hips that straight men’s eyes do, and it takes all my effort not to wiggle where I stand.
The man is too damned distracting.
But I think he’s trying to be professional, too. Because I’m one of his kid’s teachers.
“Started this week.” I smile as I pretend to look for his name on the list. “I’ll be teaching pull-out art classes as soon as my room is set up.”
“Bart will like that.”
I look up again. He’s still smiling, but now the muscles of his face have taken on a deeper pull. His stance changed, too. I can’t put my finger on it, but I’m sure, all the way to my bones, that this man loves his son.
And I want to sigh again, but I don’t. I dig through the pile and pull out a neon pink, size medium t-shirt. “I have your t-shirt right here.”
No way is it going to fit.
Mr. Quidell laughs when he holds it up. “We match.”
He’s right. I hadn’t thought about it, but the store only had six colors, so there’s doubling. Each teacher got a color and Sandy put one parent with most of us.
And I got Mr. Quidell.
I am blushing. I must be the same color as our shirts.
He’s making a face and yanking on the seams of the shirt, like he’s trying to stretch it. “Is this the biggest you have?”
He laughs again and that crooked smirk reappears—and my stray thought about vanishing into a supply closet with him for a quickie jumps back into my head.
Why am I thinking this way? I know how to keep my libido in check. I’m not some young freshman with a crush on the senior quarterback. Or a hero-worshipping fangirl.
The last thing he needs is to think that I’m some firefighter bunny.
His brow crinkles. His gaze drops away and he steps back, holding the t-shirt up between us like a screen. “I’ll make do.” When he lowers the t-shirt, he’s looking down the hall. “Should I go to Bart’s room?”
Did I make some unfriendly facial tic? Did he pick up something from my body language? I stiffen, thinking my ogling made him uncomfortable. He’s a parent of one of my students. Damn it, I need to be professional.
Kids are so much easier to deal with than men.
I hand him his group’s pink t-shirts and his list. “We’ll be lining up in a couple of minutes. Will you be riding on the bus with us?”
He glances at the names before answering. “Had an indicator light come on as I was parking, so it looks like it.” A frown jumps across his face before he flashes another friendly-but-distant smile.
I make a show of marking my sheet. Dan Quidell nods one more time, watching me for a longer moment than I expected, then walks away, toward his son….
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Also available from Kris Austen Radcliffe:
The Fate - Fire - Shifter - Dragon Series
Fantasy and Futuristic Romance
Trilogy One: Activation
Games of Fate
Flux of Skin
Fifth of Blood
Short Fiction:
Prolusio
Conpulsio
Trilogy Two: Redemption
Silence Summer 2014
All But Human Coming soon
The Quidell Brothers
Contemporary Erotic Romance
Daniel’s Fire
Robert’s Soul Coming soon
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